Suchergebnisse

Issue 38.1 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15,00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1979 Volume 38 Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW Fort R~LICIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Review for Religious Volume 38, 1979 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108" Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, SJ. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Stewardship, Justice and the Religious Purpose in Education William J. Byron, S.J. Father Byron is President'of Scranton Univergity; Scranton, PA 18510. ere are three ideas°ar'ound which I would like toor, ganize this essay. The first two., stewardship and justice, will be relat~ ely brief. The tfiird notion concerns ou~" religious purpose in edu'cation. I holSe to develop it'in~ a way that will make a case for the educ~itional apostolate as'an +xercise of stewardship arid an instrument of justice. Stewardship It has been interesting to obser~ve in the 15as! several°years a renewed' interest in the notion of s~eWardshil5°in the Catholic 'community. We are discove'ring (or rediscoverifig) that"riOt ~0nly is stewardship a simple term, it is also an uncbmplicated~solutioh to significant portions "of some major s~ciai prolSlems. In practice, stewardship is an instrument of social justice. Reflo~ztiOn°ofi'ste~a~dghil~ might begin with the first verse of the Twdfity-fourth Ps~l~a: '"The earth is the Lord's iind"the fulhess thereof." All of material 6reation, as Well as all wealth flowing from it, b~longs to God. Wealth possessed ~r~produced by human persons is owne~ by' God. We own nothing abs0iut~ly; all We have we hold in trust. Thi~ is the ffiith foundation of th6 stewardship perspective. As composites c~f body and soul, we include our intellectual and spiritual resources as part, of the basic endowment which belongs ~to the Lord: Our use of both ~nateri~l and immaterial r~sources is intended to be an exercise of ste,.wafdshio.~ , .~ 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 All we have we hold in trust for other~for those who inhabit this planet with us.now, and for those who will live here in the future. Stewardship has inescapable societal obligations. Why do I say all we have is held in trust for others? Why not owned by God and held by me for my personal use? Why the social dimension? Possession of a particular share of created resources may be private, but that private share cannot be used without regard for others. There are two considerations here: one of equity, the other of responsibility. On the equity side I have to ask, "Is my share a fair one relative to the needs and claims of others?" Put another way, does my share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of others?" The equity issue quite obvi-ously relates more immediately to the possession and use of material re-sources rather than to those that are spiritual and intellectual. It is not necessary for someone to .know less mathematics so that I might know more. My food supply, however, may be held at the expense of someone less fortunate than I. Broadening the equity consideration from the individhal person to a larger group (as, for instance, one's race or nation) one can ask the equity question this way: does my group's share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of other groups-? The responsibility consideration looks to the future. Are resources being used now in a way that will provide for future generations a secure basis for their existence? Again, this is easier to see with respect to material re-sources. If we depli~e our oil supplies, will they have an alternative source of-energy? If we pollute our lakes and streams, will they have ffater to drink? If we fail to sustain our soil, will they have bread to sustain their lives? What we refer to as "our" resources are also theirs, for they, like us, are sons and daughters of the sole owner, the Lord, who has entrusted his creation to our care and for our use. We are stewards. We own nothing absolutely. All we have we hold in trust. As inhabitants of this earth at this time, we religious educators, like our feilow~ on this planet, have stewardship responsibilities. As members of a religious community, moreover, we possess a tradition, a history, a style, some physical assets and an impressive array of spiritual and intellectual resources. We own none of these absolutely; all of these we hold in trust. We are stewards of this collective religious-community endowment. We face, therefore, considerations of equity and responsibility as we manage our collective endowment. The equity donsideration relates directly to justice and will be discussed in the next part of this article when we have to ask ourselves whether our share of these resources represents an unfair gain taken ai the expense of others. The responsibility consideration looks, as I suggested earlier, to the future. Are we using our resources, particularly our intellec.tual and spir-itual resources, in a way that is likely to enrich the lives of future inhabitants Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education of this planet?°The steward is in charge ofla household he does not.own. Is that ho, usehold being maintained by us in a state of apostolic readiness for effective service now and in the future? The story in ,Luke 16:1-8 of the "unjust steward" or "dishonest manager" serqi~s as a reminder that we can miSlase or misapply our heri-tage; we can indeed violate the trust that is ours. Failure to meet our responsibilities as stewards would mean failure to preserve a heritage that the Lord, the dominus, the owner of the householdmay well intend to have available for the service of future generations. To take my own Jesuit household as an example, I would include in my list of the central elements of the heritage that is now ours tb use and to preserve for the future these four: (1) The Spiritual Exercises, (2) development of the intellect, (3) service to the Holy See, and (4) apostolic flexibility. These four elements suggest that the Society of Jesus intends to foster in itself an embodiment of(1) holiness, (2)learning, (3) service to the Church, and (4)availability for necessary service ~an. ywhere in the world. ,~ Further specification of these elements rais'es four disturbing questions and one simple observation. The questions are these: 1. Does the prefer-ence .for poverty which characterizes The Spiritual Exercises also charac-terize the holiness of the Society today? 2. Does the emphasis on learning, present at the origins of the Society, remain an active emphasis in thisstage of the Society's growth and in all stages of the individual Jesuit's growth? 3. Does service to the Church of Christ and to the Vicar of Christ charac-terize our labors now as in the days of our origins? 4. Are we individually and collectively free to move our heritage and our resources in the direction of the greatest need, wherever that may be? The one observation I ~ould want to make in connection with the stewardship of the Jesuit heritage is this: formal education through the operation of schools, although part of the Jesuit tradition, is neither essen-tial to the heritage nor identifiable as an element that characterizes, the origins of the Society of Jesus. Similar reflection~, questions and observations can be directed toward the heritage and "household management" of any other religious commu-nity. " .~ o,~ 7 Justice Justice is symbolized by trays in balance on a scale. We speak of the "scale~ of justice." ~Vhen one tray yields weight to the other and imbalance occurs, the weights have to be adjusted to restore the balance. Imbalance symbolizes injustice; compen.sation makes adjustment (ad-just-ment), '~the achievement of justice, possible. Three years ago it was my privilege to address the New Orleans (Jesu'it) Province Assembly on th~ justice dimension of our apostolates~ In that paper I asked, "is ~our corporate apostolic service compensatory; are we 6 /ReviewforReligious; Volum~e 38, 197911. throwing our weight ~onto .the side of the oppressed?" I went on to say Symbolidally, justice is ~+l~resented by trays in balance on a scale.- The unbaladce of social injustice, where one group's advantage (th 'down tray) is taken at the expense .of another group (the up tray) calls for compensatory action.As a social group, we Jesuits should sh~ft our weight over to the weak stde. We see gaps between r, ch and poor, powerful and powerless, advantaged and disadvantaged. In exercising our min- " istry of justice, by whatever apostolic instruments, we sl~duld, it seems to me. trans- "' late the ideal of the Third Mode of humility into practice by choosing to be with Christ and as Christ---on the short side of all those gaps. Where do we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income, our apostolic energy? One of the delegat6s to that assembly was the talented young lawyer-activist Alfred C. Kammer, S.J. In the question peribd following my talk, he expressed his personal view that the Society, as a group, occupier solidly and squarely the down tray in most" of the gap-comparisons that come to mind. In his recent contribution to Studies in the' Spirituality of Jesuitst Fr. Kammer~returns to my question, "Where d6 we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income; our apostolic ener-gy?" and addresses it in these words: Th~ activist answers Father Byi'on's question by saying that the Society largely casts ' its weight with the "haves.'"with those who at best "don't care" and at worst are'the oppressors. He sees the institutional and personal weight of the Society lined up with the "haves" in such popular dichotomies as .these: white vs. black white vs. brown male vs. female U.S. vs. Third;World powerful vs. , powerless rich vs. poor . suburban vs. urban well-educated vs. poorly educated And, Fr. Kammer continues, "the,activist concludes that no matter how much Jesuits 'tinker' with their present .institutional commitments to facilitate the entry of some minority composed of the poor or disadvan, taged, th~e,.Society's weight is stii! .cgs.t overwhelmingly on the side of the well-off" (p~p. 10-11). I think Fred Kammer locates us Jesuits correctly. Weigh'ted do~v~ with the advantages of education, nutrition, health care, secure housing and all the other physical things necessary for our work, as well as those things less necessary but useful and convenient, we are on the down. tray, on the side of the well-off. Now_this raises many quegtions. What is the relatedness or relati0nship-between us and those who are less well off, those on the up tray, the disadvantaged. Are we Wher~we are because they are where they are? Has our gain been taken at their expense? With whom do we side when the issue ~" 'Burn-out' Contemporary Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist." Vol. X. No. 1, January 1978. Stewardship~ Justice and Purpos~e in Education is ,raised of redressing the balance? Without attempting to answer these difficult questions, I raise another that resurrects the,notion of stewardship. What are we do~ing ._with what we have? Do we manage it responsibly, share its, apply it,to the i,mprovement of life for others now and in the future? The Religious, CommUnity's Purpose in Education Many if,not most of us religious in America are stewarding our resources in an institutional educational environment. Will our stewardship-have anything .significant to contribute to .the promotion of justice? It may well be true that ~tinkering with our institutional arrangements will not shift our weight completely and existentially to the side of the poor and powerless. One need not conclude, however, that we must abandon our advantages. Nor does it follow that the down tray is necessarily the wrong place for' many religious to be. If we de=institutionalized our works, if wee gave away every physical asset we igossess ~nd went to live with the poor, poverty wo(dd be fieither relieved nor ~r~duced. We ar~ ~lo~t,lbcked 'into an adversary rel~ti6h~hip on the side ofth( rich againstth6 po6÷, 0n the side of whites against the blacks, on the side of a@ dominantgroup agaii~st any oppressed minoi'ity. We are in a position to'convert the "versus" linkages into hyphens find to forge connecting links of ~:econciliation between rich and poor, black and white, and other- di~,ided ~roups. A~dmittedly, many if not :most of us, a?e on the down tray. Admittedly, all occupants of the down tray will have to give somethingup if some semblance of balance is to b~.realized, and'most are unwilling to give up anything. And admittedly, the effort tO~'fi'chieve a balance between the trays is uphill and long range. But that is ttie.hatu're of the work we are called to do. Are we'free enough to do l~h~at i,v~b{k well? Central to an~ educational ~ork isthe develop~ment 0f"tiun~a~] potential. Human potential stretches into eternity;~the positive~side toward union with the Creatoi"bf that human p0t.e0[i-hl; the negative side points to the possibil: ity of eterh~i! alienation. , Formai education's inte{ests are coextensive with the entire range of positi~,e p~ssibiliti~s for human development. Recognition of this fact came early in Jesuit historY,. For more th~n four centuries now, we have been choosing formal education as an extr~brdinarily v~luable instrument for our work in the development of hum~.n potential. Many other religious in-sii'tutes have made'the same decision. ,:~ ,,~ ¯ At.this moment in our history, we Jesuits of the United States are faced with a.decline in numbers,'a fairly widespread loss.of nerve, some uneasi-ness ,about the appropriateness of our life-style and our ability, to live harmoniously and work effectively in companionship, and we are also faced with nagging doubts about.the apostolic value of what we are doing in,our schools. Our experience is.not uriique. In addition, we Jesuits have~lSeen challenged to redefifi~ ourselves~.and our mission.in terms of the service of 8 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 faith and the promotion of justice: Can this redefinition and concommitant rededication happen without abandonment:of our commitment.to formal educatiori? I think it can. Our Jesuit purpose in education is a logical extension of our stewardship and justice responsibilities.~And the same is true for many other religious. Formal education's interests are coextensive with the entire range of positive possibilities for human development. That is why religious communities choose formal education for their members, and choose to offer formal education to others. Higher education touches that ra.nge" of positive possibilities in a priv-ileged way. Wisdom is areal possibility at the stage of human development associated with higher education. At this level it is the privilege of educa-tors to group themselves into communities of inquiry which may become or beget wisdom communities,. The religious purpose in higher education is to move the minds and hearts of developing persons. The direction of this movement is Godward. The norm is truth. The outcome, it is to be hoped, is wisdom. And wisdom, we would all agree, is a gift from God. As the religious is a faith-committed person, so religious education is intended to be faith-commjttedactivity. If, as faith directs, everything depends on God, then wisdom would suggest that every'thing must be entrusted to God. If such wisdom is present with us at the beginning of religiously sponsored education, it may well be expected to reside with our students at the end of the edpcati0nal experi-ence. Any religious experience involves a search for God's will. This search, in the vocabulary of spirituality, goes b.y the name of discernment. And discernment, as we all know, is a wisdom characteristic. As any Jesuit knows, the Igna.tian way of discernment cannot be learned, from books. It can only be exp,grienced under the direction of a sensitive gpide. Hence, a special task, a privileged opportunity for Jesuits in higher education is to offer the e,xperience' of The Spiritual Exercises to those in .the learning community who want to grow spiritually. In the context o'f the Exercises, as in the classroom, learning should be directed by a motivator-organizer and assimilated by an active participant in the process. As a classroom educator or spiritual guide, the Jesuit, as an instrument of God's grace, is expected to assist the Spirit in moving the minds and hearts of those who want to grow. -' In the domain of higher education, there are many with the potential for wisdom. That is why Jesuits gather there to work. Their task is not only to teach and search for truth in all its forms, but also to share their founder's special grace with those who want to grow the Ignatian way. The Ignatian way toward wisdom is part of the heritage, the endowment over which every Jesuit exercises a stew~irdship responsibility. His antecedent respon-sibility; of course, is to have internalized the Ignatian way. His educational methods :will; not surprisingly, reflect it. Normally, his desire will be to live and work in companionship with others who are familiar with the Ignatian Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education way. And the Jesuit's hope, wherever he works, will be to share this way Or see it shared with others. That is responsible stewardship. It is also part of the Jesuit purpose in education. Parallel purposes, hopes and apostolic approaches characterize the work of other religious who are educators. There is much of a practical nature that (ould be said of education-for-justice efforts now underway in Catholic educational institutions. A lot of experience is accumulating. Rather than listing courses, projects and field experiences of demonstrated value, I would prefer to mention only one program that is designed to assist all educators in addressing the world hunger issue. Atthe 1974 World Food Conference in Rome, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger pledged the cooperation of the United States to work with other nations so that "within a decade no child will go to bed hungry" anywhere in the world. In hopes of facilitating contributions from educational institu-tions toward this goal, Bread for the World Educational Fund launched in 1976 a Decade of Commitment on World Hunger (DCWH). The program is designed for institutions of higher education. It provides conference oppor-tunities for administrators, faculty, campus ministers, career guidance counselors and students to share ways of placing and keeping hunger on the academic agenda. Emphasis is placed on four areas within which colleges ~:an deal with the hunger issue: curriculum, research, campus ministry and career choices made by students ("In the face of the world hunger problem, what are.you going to do with your life?").?~ Som~ of.the best work in justice-education is happening in secondary schools. Again I refrain from listing the specifics. I would, however, like to say a word about the person of the secondary educator. To put it more pr.ecisely, I would like to repeat a great theologian's reflections on the value of the person and importance of the work of the religious who is a high school_teacher. The Jesuit secondary educator is the man John Courtney Murray, de-scribed with admiration and affection as "The Schoolmaster." He spoke of the schoolmaster as the grammarian, the person who is knowledgeable in the elements of his subject, whose knowledge is, in this sense, elementary but certainly not superficial. The schoolmaster is devoted to the communi-cation of these elements as a lifetime work. Being a schoolmaster, said Fr. Murray to a Jesuit audience at Woodstock in 1961, is '~being on the growing edge of things, beca.use the growing edge is youth." "We are supposed to be Jesuit ministers of growth," he added, "'ad profectum animarum." "We are supposed to be men of tomorrow. One of "~The Educational Fund, which can also provide worship aids and high school course-materials on hunger, is a separate corporation closely related to the Christian citi~.ens lobby known simply as Bread for the World (207 East 16th Street, New York City 10003). Membership in Bread for the World (annual dues $10) will keep one informed, by means of a monthly newsletter and background papers, about the hunger issue. "10 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 our earliest undertakings was to become schoolmasters, schoolmen. Doc-trina exacta et solida is first the tradition of the Church; it is also the tradition of reason. We are committed to an intellectual apostolate--a min-istry of and io intelligence." The schoolmaster imparts the skills and guides the maturation process. The more fully the religious schoolmaster or schoolmistress has assimilated the basic elements of his or her religious, heritage, the more valuable is he or she as a role model in the 'midst of the young. The classroom teacher's task is largely one of method and motivation; the object is to move both minds and hearts. Inevitably, the response the teacher stimulates will be a response to himself or herself. This is a privileged relationship. If the sct~oolmaster (or the scholar, for that matter) is a person of justice, a sense of justice will be communicated to the students. If the institution-alized set of arrangements known as a school embodies in its procedures relationships of justice, then those who teach and learn there will, in vary-ing degrees, embody in themselves the principles of justice. The religious schoolmaster has, of course, a life outside the classroom. There are pastoral opportunities and citizenship responsibilities. The apostolic base, the school, can and should.be a place from which the religious reaches out to the Christian and civic communities for the service of faith and promotion.of justice. That outreach will, it might be expected, involve both witness and advocacy roles in 'the cause of justice as an expression of faith. Education for justice is a challenge we religious are capable of meeting. We should have no doubt about that. Whether we will. meet it or not is another matter. But we can, if we choose. The educational outcomes, the results of our efforts to educate for justice, depend on powers beyond our own. There is no reason to believe that the Lord will not raise up men and women of justice in our midst and in our times. I recognize that there is no bne method known now to be the most effective in educating for justice. The argument over method goes back to the Aristotelian notion that the one who does justice will come to under-stand justice; and back as well to Plato's view that the one who first understands justice will then act justly. In this important matter of educat-ing for justice, we Catholic educators have a laboratory system in our American schools and colleges. We can try different methods in different situations and compare results. The findings of our experiments in educa-tion for justice can be shared with other educators in other systems. We can make a difference here. As we do it our way, in the intellectual-educational mode, unjust, ex-pioitative, discriminatory and oppressive situations will remain in our world. But in direct proportion to our success in educating fqr justice, future world situations will have a reduced share of injustice. It is a Chris-tian characteristic not to give up on the future. Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education / 11 Father BenWren, a New Orleans Province Jesuit whose scholarly inter-ests include Eastern mysticism, tells me that there is a Chinese saying to0the effect that one who is concerned with planning for a year should plant rice; the person interested in planning for a decade should plant trees. But one who wants to plan for a century will surely want to educate people. There.is a religious purpose in education. That purpose is consistent, for example, with our contemporary Jesuit focus on the service of faith and the specification of that service in the promotion ofjustice. The activist impulse suggested by the word promotion is quite congenial with our purpose and style of education. Through education; we can touch both trays on the scalEs of justice. When we work with the advantaged, we should have the disadvantaged in mind. We can challenge ourselves and all others who occupy the down tray to dedicate ourselves in conscience to making life livable for the poorest of the poor. When we work directly with the e~onom-ically disadvantaged, we can assist them in developing the competencies that can help them move toward a better life. The earliest Jesuit schools were free. But never, so far as I can deter-mine, were Jesuit schools exclusively for the poor or exclusively for the rich. Today, we are with the rich,much more than we are with the poor in our educational work. Who can say that we cannot somehow, somewhere in the decades ahead bring our educational energies into more direct contact with the poor? Who can say that we will not, in the meantime, find new and effective ways of bringing the "haves" with wtiom we work to an accept~ ance of their obligations injustice toward the "have nots"? And who woul~l want to take responsibility for disengaging ourselves from the apostolate that makes either option possible? That last question, in my view, highlights the importance of personal and community life-style for those who work in the educational apostolate. We religious in America are perfectly capable of going soft. We can indeed insulate and isolate ourselves from the condition of the disadvantaged masses. We are capable of-violating our stewardship. If that should happen, justice will not be served and the religious purpose in education will have lost its salt. In The American Mind (Yale, 1950), Henry Steele Commager remarks that for Willa Cather, the past was significant for its moral qualities. Her long literary life was, according to Commager, an elaborate remembrance of things past--the past of the pioneers who had built the West, of the immigrants who had carried with them into the New World their sense of beauty and art, of those earlier spiritual pathfinders, the Franciscans and Jesuits, who had served their fellowmen and their God so selflessly. And all her novels and stories., were animated by a single great theme as they w.ere graced by a single felicitous style, the theme was that of the supremacy of moral and spiritual over material values, the ever recurrent but inexhaustible theme of gaining the whole world and losing one's soul (p. 150). Dealing, as she did, with the frontier as the setting for many of her 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 stories, Miss Cather apparently found inspiration in the frontier idea and saw it as a setting for clarification, and dramatization of moral issues. Hence, as Commager points out, the passing of the pioneer generation meant, to Miss Cather, the passing of all the old virtues, "and she was incapable of believing that there could be different virtues in a civilization whose standards were those of the countinghouse, whose habits were predatory, and whose rewards were social and ostentatious rather than spiritual and private" (p. 154). Commager cites a tribute to Nebraska writ-ten by Willa Cather in the early 1920's: We must face the fact that the splendid story of the pioneers is finished and that no new story worthy to take its place has yet begun . The generation now in the driver's seat hates to make anything, wants to live and die in an automobile, scudding past those acres where the old man used to follow the corn rows up and down. They want to buy everything ready-made: clothes, food., education, music, pleasure; Will the third generation--the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill--be fooled? Will it believe that to live easily is to live happily.'? (p. 154). Two generations have passed since those words were written. Religious at work in Nebraska and elsewhere in America are prepared to admit that many of us in many different driver's seats have been fooled. Regrettably, some of us, by witness and word, have foolishly encouraged others to believe that to live easily is to live happily. The "new story" thatoWilla Cather was looking for in Nebraska,can be written anywhere in America by contemporary religious educators, if they choose to. I suspect that "the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill" are not now being fooled; they recognize that if we want to live happily, we will want to do what we can to make life livable for the poorest of the poor. Schools alone cannot do it and they certainly cannot do it right away. But without the schools, it will not be done at all:. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley lectures in New Testament Studies at Ushaw College, the Senior Seminary for the Northern Dioceses of Eng_l, and. He lives in the Salesian community attached to Ushaw College; Durham DH7 9RH; England. His last article, "'Jesus, Poverty and the Kingdom," appeared in the July, 1977 issue. Your vow to remain unmarried for the sake of God's kingdom will draw you into the loneliness of the cross of Jesus and reveal the basic loneliness of every man.1 In his,book The Calvary Christ Gerald O'Collins writes: "Too often a cloud of stale words covers Calvary. Theologians and exegetes can use a language remote from anything we feel. Conventional-religious art asks for our conventional reaction. Tendencies .towards evasion in all of us allow this art to continue and the dull language to grind on. We accept the old fo.rmulas, the familiar crucifixes and the ponderous pronouncements of scholars with a mixture of loyalty and mystification. We need to find and fashi6n ways of reflecting on the crucifixion which can let it speak to us again with. new power.'' How far this statement mirrors our feelings and experience, each indi-viduai must judge. I should like to suggest that one way of reflecting on the crucifixion which can indeed let it speak to us again with new power is to tRulefor a New Brother (London; Darton, Longman & Todd, 1973), p. 16. 2G. O'Collins, The Calvary Christ (London, SCM, 1977), p. ix. 13 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38,~ 1979/1 take one evangelist's presentation of the passion of Jesus, to meditate on it, and to allow its impact to challenge our lives. For each of the evangelists narrates the story in his own way, with his own particular emphases, highlighting different aspects of the drama, f~cusing different facets of the person of Jesus,.communicating his own theological vision and understand-ing of the significance of the event. Unfortunately, the originality of each approach is often blurred, and the sharpness blunted by the comfortably generalized picture which most of us have. In this article I shall concentrate on one of the motifs which dominates the passion according to Mark, namely the loneliness of Jesus.3 It is this which constitutes his greatest suffering, far more than any physical pain. In fact, Mark, as indeed the other three evangelists, evinces little interest in the physical torments of the Master, laying little stress upon them. Mark's Gospel has been called a passion narrative with a long introduction. This reminds us to view the passion within the framework of the whole Gospel; consequently, in our consideration of some of the elements of the narrative, it will be necessary to refer back to earlier sections of the Gospel. The earliest passion narratives probably began with the arrest scene. "Suddenly, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, appeared, and with him was a crowd armed with swords and ~cudgels; sent by the chief priests, lawyers and elders." The man responsi.ble .for the success of the arrest is not one of those whose constant opposition had dogged Jesus' tracks, but "one of the twelve," one of his friends. Our minds flash back to an earlier scene in which Jesus "then went up into the hill country and called the men he wanted: and they went and joined him. He appointed twelve to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the gospel, with a commis-sion to drive out devils. So he appointed the twelve .-." (3,13-16). Discipleship is primarily a personal call to the intimacy of friendship, a being "singled out" in order to "be with." It is one of these chosen ones who had shared his fellowship who is the traitor; and the sign of his treach, ery is the normal sign of respect and friendship: "When he reached the spot, he stepped forward at once and said to Jesus, 'Rabbi,' and kissed him. Then they seized him and held him fast." The verb Mark uses here means a particularly ~iffectionate kiss, a firm embrace. After a futile act of token resist~ince which served only to emphasize Jesus' defenselessness, "they deserted him and fled, every one of them," including the~youthful follower who narrowly evaded capture. , Mark recounts this Scene with a laconic matter-of-factness that is chill-ingly disconcerting. Earlier that evening, as they walked together from the supper room to the garden, Jesus had predicted their flight: "You will all fall from .your faith; for it stands written: 'I will strike the shepherd down and the sheep will be scattered.'" And Peter, not untypically, had insisted that he would die even, rather than disown Jesus. "And they all said the same" 3cf. Hendrickx, The Passian Narratives (Manila, East Asian Pastoral Institute, 1977). Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation / 15 (14, 26-31). Yet they were not Slow to seek their own safety and leave Jesus to face his fate alone. This flight and abandonment, the memory of which haunted the early Christians, was in fact the culmination of that failure on the part of the disciples both to understand and to accept the messiahship of Jesus which Mark traces throughout this Gospel, especially after Caesarea Philippi in Chapter Eight. On that occasion, in answer to Jesus' questioning concerning people's opinions about him~ and his further probing as to the views of the disciples, Peter, as their spokesman, professed Jesus' messiahship. Jesus responded by speaking openly about his passion for the first time, which provoked a bewildered attempt to dissuade him. At this time Jesus rebuked Peter in ~strong terms for his thinking as men think rather than as God thinks, and proceeded to outline the nature of discipleship: "~nyone who wishes to be a follower of mine must leave self behind, he must take up his cross and come with me" (8,34). A little later in the narrative, as they journeyed through Galilee, Jesus again spoke of his passion, "but they did not understand what he said and were afraid to ask" (9,32). And on their way they argued about seniority and importance and greatness. Jesus predicted his passion for the third, time on the road going up to Jerusalem in terms which were unmistakably clear. The failure of the disciples to understand is illustrated by the next incident, in which the two sons of Zebedee made a bid for the top jobs in the Kingdom. The rest were naturally indignant about this, a row broke, out, and Jesus, in patient frustra-tion, attempted to open their minds to the nature of his messiahship and of his kingdom, and to the real meaning of discipleship in terms of service (10,44-45). It is this inability or unwillingness to grasp and to accept what messiah-ship meant for Jesus when this proved to be different from what the twelve were expecting and hopiag for; this inability or unwillingness to embrace in vision and in lifestyle the kind of discipleship such a messiah demanded, which expressed itself so decisively in their garden choice not to be "with him," to care for their own safety (8,35), to forsake him and flee. The next scene in the passion drama, comprises Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and the denials of Peter; the~e two incidents are closely inter-locked in Mark's account. '~Then they led Jesus away to the High Priest's. house, where the chief priests, elders and doctors of the law were all assembling." Already Mark has clearly designated the Jewish leaders as the ones responsible for Jesus' arrest (14,43), and he indicates each section that made up the San.hedrin, the supreme religious and legislative body. For Mark, these are his real enemies. From the early stages of the public ¯ ministry they have consistently opposed him. In Chapter Two, when the paralytic is brought to Jesus, the doctors of the law consider his talk about 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 forgiving sins quite blasphemous, and Jesus vainly attempts to open their eyes as he cures the poor man. A little while la.ter, after the call of Levi, when Jesus is at table with tax-gatherers and sinners, the Pharisees com-plain~ to his disciples about the types he"mixes with; Jesus, on hearing this, retorts, not without a touch of irony: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to invite virtuous people, but sinners" (2,17). Mark now records the Pharisees' criticism of the disciples for plucking corn on the Sabbath, a complaint which stung Jesus to challenge their basic tenets in enunciating the principle that people mattered more than sabbath regulations. This incident is followed by an episode which underlines the mounting hostility, the failure of Jesus to win acceptance of the religious ~lite. It is a sabbath and Jesus goes to the synagogue, where there is a man with a withered arm. "And they were watching to see whether Jesus would cure him on the sabbath, so that they could bring a charge against him." Aware of their malicious intentions, Jesus tries to draw them, to make them aware of the perversion of religion, the distortion of the image of God, that adherence to legalistic casuistry entailed. He encountered an obstinate and ominous silence, saddening and frustrating. "But the Pharisees, on leaving the synagogue, began plotting against him with the partisans of Herod to see how they could make away with hirh." Thereafter Jesus is obliged to live and to work under the shadow of this threat. The rift widens as the ministry continues, and eventually, as the conflict approaches its climax, Jesus takes the game into their own court, openly challenging them by expelling the money-lenders and merchants from the temple .precincts. On hearing of this, the chief priests and doctors of the Law "sought some means of making away with him, for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching" (11,18). Not long afterwards Jesus spoke that indictment-parable of the wicked husbandmen. The inevitable result was that -they began to look for a way to arrest him, for they saw that the parable was aimed at them; but they were afraid of the people, so they left him alone and went away" (12,12). As that fateful final week progresses we hear of the attempts by the Phari-sees and Herod's party to entrap him in regard to the Caesar tribute (12,13), and by the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (12,18-27); and we hear Jesus word-lash the doctors of the Law (12,38-40). And so, finally, as the Passover feast approaches, "the chief priests and doctors of the Law were trying to devise some cunning plan to seize him and put him to death" (14,1). Now these men have Jesus in their power at last. From the commence-ment of the so-called trial or enquiry, their intentions are firm and limpid; with cynical singlemindedness "they sought testimony against Jesus to put .him to death" (14,.56). Mark paints the scene in a few, bold, vivid strokes: the balking incompetence of the false witnesses; the silent, dignified, isolated figure of Jesus; his foes bent unanimously on his destruction. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Swiftly the evangelist brings the matter to a head, as the high priest asks Jesus whether he is in fact the Christ. At Jesus' open affirmation, the high priest, with an elaborate dlsplay of passionate horror, accuses him of blas-phemy; and the gathering ends as planned: "they all condemned him as deserving death' '--again Mark emphasizes the unanimity of the opposition, and the utter aloneness of Jesus. Whilst, in an atmosphe.re of frenzied hate and delighted success, Jesus is beaten and mockbd and humiliated, Mark shifts our attention to the courtyard where Peter stands by the fire warming himself in the chill night air. We are familiar with the painful description of Peter's triple denial of the Master. Mark skiifully orders them in a crescendo pattern so that the third denial is the most intense, accompanied by curses and a solemn oath. Some scholars suggest that Peter, still under fire in spite of his first two denials, resorts to the strongest possible manner of dissociating himself from Jesus by actually cursing him; this is the force to be given to that staggering disavowal: "I do not know this man you speak of"--an even more emphatic restatement of his earlier rejection of Jesus' messianic way at Caesarea Philippi. Peter, singled out to be with him, decisively opts in public not to be with him. Mark heightens the effect of this by juxtaposing the incident with the trial .scene: Jesus, true to himself and his mission, affirms what he cannot deny, his messiahship; and he is rejected by the religious leaders of his own people and by his closest follower. Alone and in chains, he is led away and handed over to pagan power (15,1). The rejection and isolation of Jesus is further accentuated in the subse-quent scene when the ordinary people shout for his death. The fickleness of crowds, the fragility of public opinion, is a commonly recognized phe-nomenon. From the statements of the Pharisees cited earlier, it would seem that Jesus continued to enjoy a considerable amount of popularity with the masses. Yet their acclaim was always suspect. Quite early in the Gospel, Mark describes the wave of enthusiasm and excitement sparked by Jesus' miracles and teaching; the people flocked to him with their sick, and hung on his words. But their response went little deeper. For the most part, they misunderstood the nature of his kingdom, the,genre of his peculiar messia-nism. They were not won to faith; they were prone to disappointment and disillusionment, with the resentful antagonism that this engenders. Now, when Pilate in a desperate effort to release him, offered the mob the option of choosing "Jesus Barabbas," as he was probably called, a freedom fighter convicted of murder, or Jesus of Nazareth, the crowd, incited by the chief priests, clamored for the insurrectionist, and screamed for Jesus to be committed to the hideous torture-death of crucifixion. We should not allow our familiarity with the story to dull our sensitivity to the poignant pain of that scene, the dreadful irony as the nation whose whole history pointed to this moment, the nation chosen out of all peoples on the face of the earth to be God's own people (Dt 7,6ff.), disowned their 11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 Emmanuel. Jesus stands there in the open, alone, the impassioned cries of the people that was his people ringing in his ears, as they chant his rejection. His bitter desolation is intensified by a sense of injustice. Even Pilate was convinced of his innocence: "Why, what harm has he done?" Thus he is abandoned tothe Roman soldiery. In his economic description of the crucifixion and death of Jesus, Mark emphasizes the solitude of Jesus by mentioning details which, because of our acquaintance with the versions of Luke and John, we are apt to over-look. After the passers-by had hurled abuse at him and mocked him in his helpless anguish, and the lawyers had jested and gibed, "even those who were crucified with him taunted him" (15,32). At the end the robbers, too, renounce his companionship; Jesus does not belong even with his fellow-sufferers. Similarly, it is only after the death of Jesus that mention is made of the women who had followed him from Galilee, and who "were watching from a distance" (15,40). At the foot of the cross there is no mother, no beloved disciple; Jesus died utterly alone. The searing anguish of his pain and loneliness arid failure is focused and captured in the loud cry from the cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But he died "without a word or a wink from God to reassure him that, whatever the gawking crowd might think, he knew that Jesus was not only innocent, but valid where it mattered.''4 Jesus' sense of total rejection by men is compounded and intensified by his feeling abandoned by the Father,.by his experience of estrangement and alienation that be-longs to our sinfulness. The psalm that Jesus is citing is a psalm of uncon-ditional trust in God's love and ultimate vindication. The last words of Jesus are a radical expresSion of his loneliness, and a "radical expression of a devotion to God which endures in every adverse experience--a devotion which continues to claim God as 'my' God and will not let him go although he can be experienced only as the absent One who has'forsaken the peti-tioner.''~ It is this surrender in love and trust that is our window into the mystery of his personality, for it is the human expression of what.we have come to call divine sonship; it is this surrender in the brokenness of death which, like the buried grain, is the source of our life.6 It is, I believe, true that Mark's way of presenting the passion of Jesus can allow it to "speak to us again with new power," speak to us with hope and with challenge in the center of our experience. All of us know at first hand the meaning of loneliness. I still vividly remember my feelings of desolate helplessness on the occasion of my first day at school as mother walked out of the playground beyond the iron fence. Or years later, when, having spent three years in enclosed quasi-monastic surroundings, I went to sit my finals in London, sporting a large 4L. E. Keck, A Future for the Historical Jesus (London, SCM, 1972), p. 229. ~E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark (London, SPCK, 1971), p. 353. ncf. my article "Trust--the Life-Attitude of Jesus" in Doctrine and Life, Nov. "76, pp. 803 ft. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Roman collar at twenty-one; everything and everyone seemed to be telling me that I did not belong~°I recall also the numbing sense'of lostness that came over me as' the train hissed noisily to a halt in Wigan station the evening 'my father died. Loneliness has many forms: the jarring sadness of bereavement, the corrosive listlessness of loss and separation, the anguished alienation and shame.of guilt and sin, thedisappointment of failure, the isolation of intense physigal suffering or imprisonment; the d(structive discouragement and paralysis of non-acceptance and rejection, the pain of misunderstanding and estrangement, the gnawing emptiness of unfulfilled longing for intimacy and genuine cbmpanionship, the absence of~God. Loneliness is thic.kly woven into the fabric of our lives, it.is a facet of our human poverty, our poverty of being. But Mark assures us that it is an aspect of being human that Jesus-fully shared throughout his ministry and especially in hi~ final hours. Most of us are anxious to avoid pain, physical pain; our medical and pharmaceutical experts have mercifully developed many varieties of anal-gesic. Most of us, likewise, sedulously attempt to avoid the pain of loneli-ness; and our society has developed a wide range of would-be anaesthetics--from discos to little dog~--to soften the abrasive harshness of our experience. I, for one, am very grateful for the refuge and comfort afforded by the telephone! And yet I wonder whether Mark is challenging us as disciples of Jesus to Cope with our loneliness m. ore creatively. Whilst recognizing with thanks the extent to which he made the experience of loneliness his own, perhaps we are reluctant to recognize that he did what most of us, most of the time, seek to .shun. In spite of gripping fear and instinctive repugnance, he did not run away from it; and his steadfastness transformed it into a life-giving element of redemption. Perhaps it is here that Mark is speaking to us again with new power; perhaps the challenge for disciples of Jesus consists in transforming the pain of loneliness into a source of personal growth and of life for others. It is very important that instead of taking one of the numerous escape roads open to us, we learn to come to terms with our loneliness and listen to our own feelings and struggles, our aspirations and questions, and live themacceptingly. It is here in the unique my.stery'of our personal selfhood, in the depths of our being, that we must have the courage to allow God to find us. It is here that his call is to be heard: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you . " So often God seems absent for the simple reason that we are fearfully evading his loving presence. Loneliness is paradoxically a poten-tial source of enrichment, for it can teach us the meaning of poverty of spirit, which opens us to the gift of God's kingly rule through the Spirit poured into our hearts, that surrender in loving and trusting obedience which is the hallmark of the Master.7 rI'his is developed by Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (London, Collins, 1976), pp. 25-101. 90 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 In learning to come to terms with our loneliness, we may learn like Jesus, to love more genuinely, more compassionately. Our going out to others will be legs oriented to answering our own needs for companionship and fulfillment, and will become an expression of authentic service which can liberate and heal and enliven. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked Peter and the other eleven: ~' And you, who do you say I am?" He reiterates this question to each Christian daily. Peter was able to acknowledge J~esus as Messiah, but his response was inadequate, it did not involve a willingness to follow in his way; he jibbed at the implications of discipleship. Loneliness, failure, misunderstanding, rejection are always painful, very painful, and are a constant in our human experience; a constant, however, shot through with hope because of the paschal mystery of Christ. Our answer as disciples to the challenging ques-tion of Jesus must be expressed in our willingness to take up this cross and go "with him." A Lamb Looks Through the Fence (Where the grass appears to be greener) The grass is greener on the other side: At least, it seems that way. Shepherd, give me a heart content To praise, to server to stay. This is the pasture of Your choice, And lessons here await: Calm the longings of my heart And bid the storms abate. For fences also keep us safe, Hedged in with loving care, Provided for and protected from The lion and the bear. Teach me to trust--this humble prayer Removes the restless yen: Some day we'll see from a higher view How green our side has been. Vi~la Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities Leonard J. Crowley Leonard J. Crowley, Titular Bishop of Mons in Numedia, is Auxiliary Bishop of Montreal. He is Director Of the Office for English Language Affairs in the archdiocese; 2000 Sherbrooke St. West; Montreal, Que. H3H IG4; Canada. n the very fitting context of the Feast of Pentecost last year, two Roman Congregations (The Congregation for Bishops and the Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes) promulgated a very significant docu-ment on Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Reli-gious in the Church. The statement is significant, for its very existence admits that there is room for growth in understanding between the episcopal office and religious communities. For far too long within the Church's often turbulent history there has been too little fruitful communication between the overseers of the faith and those specialists who have a particular and time-honored gift to share with the faithful. Th~ warning of John Cassian to his monks in the fourth century seems, even today, to express a deep-seated mistrust: "The two groups you must avoid at all times are women and the bishops." The Diocesan/Religious Rivalry This basic antipathy often shows itself as well in the ranks of those from whom the residential bishop is normally chosen in North America--the diocesan clergy. What some may naively call a healthy rivalry between religious and diocesan groups is often~ at root, a basic distrust of one another's real motives and abilities in the exercise of the apostolate. 21 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 This recent document addresses itself directly to this sorry condition where it exhorts that "efforts should be made to renew the bonds of fratero nity and cooperation between the diocesan clergy and communities of religious." It even suggests the context of "simple and informal" gather-ings "which serve to increase mutual trust, apostolic solidarity, and fra-ternal harmony" (37). The duty for seeing to it that such fraternal gattierings take place and grow in significance and depth is placed squarely, as it should be, on the shoulders of the bishop. Furthermore, it is the duty of the bishop to so blend the services of diocesan and religious groups that each recognize members of outstanding talent and together support their promotion to positions of service commensurate with their capabilities; for "the bishop should . . . exhort the diocesan priests to recognize gratefully the fruitful contribution made by religious to their Church and to approve willingly their nomination to positions of greater responsibility which are consbnant with their vocation and competency" (55). In basic fact, if we truly are to witness to the mystery of the Lord Jesus in our midst, then there should be no rivalry but only harmony in the service we render. The bishop and his diocesan assistants should rejoice in the presence of specialists who bring a particular talent to minister ina certain area to the People of God. In such a context, "bishops, along with their clergy, should be convinced advo-cates of the consecrated life, defenders of religious communities, promoters of vocations, firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in ihe apostolic field" (28). As a matter of fact, it is the bishop's "specific office to defend consecrated life, to foster and animate the fidelity and authenticity of religious and .~o, help them become part of the communion and of the evangelizing action of his church, acc.ording to their distinctive nature" (52). ~ Difficulties of Identification But herein lies the crux of the problem. Many a bishop would be hard pressed to identify the "distinctive nature" of the religious groups en-trusted to his watchful overseeing. In many instances there seems to have ¯ been a loss of clear identity on the part of religious communities. The bishop i~ fully aware, in most instances, that "the very nature of apostolic action requires that [he] give precedence to interior recollection and to the life of prayer;" but he is also frustrated by the realization that some religious apparently have not taken to heart the realization that they must, "in conformity with their distinctive nature, renew themselves in depth and be assiduous in prayer" (23a). What a bishop must be seeking from religious who reside in or enter his diocese is a specific dedication and consecration to a form of spirituality and to an apostolic witness that is as clear and as vital as it was when the Ruleo that embodies that life was first written. The bishop must be concerned with the future of his flock; but he wants that future founded solidly in the values that have come out of the past. Therefore he must be in search of"religious Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities [who], even while showing a particular spirit of enterprise and foresight for the future, [are] intensely loyal to the intention and spirit of their insti-tute." (34). However, the simple fact appears to be that many religious groups have maintained a loyalty to their institute but have lost sight of both its intention and its spirit. The Second, Vatican Council has urged. The Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life to begin with a sincere return to the spirit and the mind of the Founder and from that unique font to build anew a personal and communal zeal for the spread of the Gospel, in all its richness. It is obvious that many, if not all, religious communities have adapted themselves, their customs, their habits, to the contemporary condition--not without a great deal of soul-searching, painful compromise, and interminable meetings. But adaptation was the easier half of the challenge and directive laid down by Perfectae Caritatis. How many communities have gone on to embrace a radical renewal of their original spirit? For it is in the light of that question that one can honestly ask about the future relevance of religious life. Ignorance of Specific Spirit In many instances, individual religious find it all but impossible to dis-tinguish the uniqueness of their charism from that of other religious commu-nities. Beyond a loyal chauvinism for their own institute, many admit that their vision, their mission, their methodology is essentially the same as evi~ryone else's. The historical reasons that called: the original foundation into existence often are gone now, the needs alleviated, the witness fulfi!led, the expectations satisfied. The more specific the historical reason for the foundation, the more difficult becomes the task of pinpointing its relevance now in the latter part of the twentieth century. This quandary has caused much frustration on the part of dedicated and deeply concerned men and women who recognize the values of their traditions, see a need for apostolic zeal within the mission of the Church, but find it difficult to wed the two into an effective and realistic union within the contemporary con-text. What has happened in the minds of many young religious is to say, "Forget the past. Deal with the present and prepare for the future." But such an outlook definitely isolates one frbmthe ~rich traditions that give reason for the continuing existence of the particular institute. It truly ap-pears that too many religious today are ignorant of the spirit that enkindled the foundation of their community. They may know its historical back-ground; but they have done little to identify with .the charismatic zeal that gives them a uniqueness and an individuality so necessary in building up the full experience that is Church. For there appears today to be little difference between one religious community and another except in terms of an accident of history or geography. Beyond the clear distinctions offered by the stric~tly contemplative and monastic communities, religious orders and societies seem to have Ihid aside those distinctions that called them into 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 existence. Many individuals apparently responded to a vocational urging as personified in a particular individual: a teacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a family friend. The specific community to which that individual belonged meant little, except that it was the obvious context within which the indi-vidual was to pursue his vocation if he intended to follow the lead of his childhood hero. Thus many young men have gone in pursuit of the priest-hood, not as a diocesan priest or as a member of a religious community, but as a priest like Father Racine, or Father Joe, or Father O'Brien. Many young ladies simply continued their religious quest in the same context as the academy or the convent school to which they were sent by parents desirous of the best education possible for their offspring and knowing that the "good sisters" would provide just that. Symbol of Identity Of course, as the individual comes to identify with the community to which he has gone, to learn of its traditions and history during his years of postulancy and novitiate, he doubtless grows in love for and identification with the order or the congregation. That identity used to be symbolized .very powerfully in the reception of the religious habit. More than anything else, the habit had been the external symbol of an internal commitment. For many communities of religious women, the bishop was called upon to participate in this very important step in identification with the spirit of the Founder and the vision of the order. But, for many communities today, the habit stands as a symbol of the past. And the search for a clear, contempo-rary sign of identification whereby new members might feel a sense of oneness with the community has been a very frustrating one. Yet, in the beginning, it was not the habit that gave identity; it was the spirit and zeal of the Founder, as these drives inspired the community, giving a clear sense of purpose and single-mindedness to all who embraced the Holy Rule. It is that spirit which must be renewed in religious communities today if the symbols of religious life are to have any role to fulfill within the Church. The Problem of Stability Because many religious communities have been established for the ministry of the Universal Church and not for the local church alone, many within a diocese, often the bishop himself, tend to resent the fluidity of a religious community's commitment to a particular apostolic endeavor. For such persons, whose commitment to the local church is total, there is a very deep-seated hesitancy to entrust the fulfillment of a ministry to a group whose commitment often seems to be as long as its superior's vision is far-reaching. Such an anxiety seems natural and even fortified by the gospel parable about the hireling and the good shepherd. However, what many, whose commitment to the local church is so intense, fail to recognize or to acknowledge is that the purpose of religious exemption is "so that institutes Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities carl express their identity more adequately and devote themselves~to ,the common good with special generosity and on a wider scale" (22). If all who work together within the diocesan community have a proper appreciation of the exempt status as "a certain expression of that pastoral concern which unites them intimately with the Roman Pontiff for the universal care of all people," such an awareness "will promote greatly increased apostolic' ini-tiative and missionary zeal in every particular church" (22). ' Of course, every religious community that comes to ~erve the local church, even if it does beloia~ to an institute of pontifical right, "should feel themselves truly a part of the diocesan family" (18b). Therefore their com-mitment should be as deep find their solicitude as pervasive as every other apostolic witness within thediocese. However, in those situations where an institution finds itself "unable to carry on a given undertaking, its superiors should, in good time andwith~confidence; make known the factors hinder-ing its continuance at least in its actual form, especially if this lack is due to personnel. For~his part, ti~e local ordinary should consider sympatheti-cally the re~luest to withdraw from the undertaking and in common accord with the superiors seek a suitable solu'tion" (47). in other words, every local Church must always see itself as a vital organ of the universal People of God under the guidance of the Holy F~ther. None of us can afford to allow our apostolic vision to become so myopic as to blind us to the needs beyond our own backyard. Bishops~ especially, must realize that the zealous service of religious in his pastoral domain is always carried on'with a sense-of ministry to the Universal Church. Such a presence, then, is a blessing as it broadens the horizons of our apostolic perspective and helps us to appreciate more deeply the total concern of the Father for all his children. Thus as religious come and go within a diocese, neither the ordinary nor his diocesan assistants should resent their fluidity but shoiald see, in their willingriess to move as the Spirit calls them, a vivid reminder that we all are a pilgrim people on the move to the home that we can ohly begin to build toward in this world. The Church is larger and more loving than any of us. We must always st.rive to be of humble service to her needs and to free those who feel the ardent call to another vineyard, to another manifestation of the Spirit's solicitude in the midst of the people of God. Future Expectations Religious ~ommunities are ~:alled today to "devote themselves with full awareness and zeal to the task 0f incarnating and manife.sting in the diocese the specific witness and the genuine mission of their institute" (22). This is the value and the service that the bishops, are going to be searching for in the future, all the more so ,as they realize quite clearly that they "are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms . [For] in this way;" by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own Review for Religious, Volume 38,~!~979/1 definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real. pastoral duty" (9c). Thus the bi~hopJs going to be in search of and solicitous for those communities that. are responding in the modem day to the needs of the Church after the spirit and .with the zeal of their founders. Quite obviously, then, "religious supe-i- iors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure'the fidelity of the members to the charism of the Founder, by fostering :the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the.times" (14c). The future of religious life will lie in the oab!ljty that each religious community has to move away from the mentali~ty of being an embattled camp; of~asse~ting, by quality of performanceoand depth of, solicitude, the recognition that "every institute exists.for the Church and must enrich her with its.~distinctive characteristics, according~to a particular spirit,and a specific mission" (14b). Eacho!n,stitute-is a shepherd, not a hireling-~.,~but only, ifoit speaks with the voice of its Founder who echoes the voice of the Good Shepherd. "The very charism of the founders appears a_s "an experi-ence of the Spirit' transmitted to their ,disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them, in harm~gny with the Body of Christ, continually in the process oLgrowth" (11). o. The future of the religious life de, pends, then, on a renewal that will be as much new as it will be re-. Besides a deep appreciation of the~historical origin and vision of one's community, each one,must se, ek innovative and creative ways w~ith which to bringthe wisdom an~t°~technology of contempo-rary society to bear upon the timeless values articulated, by the Lord Jesus and specifi.cally~ pursued within a particular religious context. The more clearly and more wholesomely we can make those value~"'li.~,e in our own day, the more relevant and essential becohaes the role we intend to.fulfillS' That is one reason why the renewal of the religio~us life remains ~such a crucial issue. However, that renewal is feasible only if each in~stitiate ,and every member is clearly aware that"it is necessary to preserve the identity of each institute so securely, that the danger of an ill-defined situation be avoide.d, le§t0religi,ous, failing to give .due consideration to the .particular mode of action proper to their character, become part of the ]if~"of the Ch.urch.in~a vague and ambiguous way" (11). ~_ Personal Reflection' As a bishop, I have been renewed by this document from the two ¯ Congregations, with a sense of the very serious responsibility that I have for the religious communities who minister to the people .I w.atgh o.ver.~I have always hoped that the religious who come into our midst would bring their special gifts and talents to' bea~- however or wherever thei.r apostolic pre~s-ence took them. Now I realize more clearlyothat, together wit.h my brother bishops, !' have a duty to help.directly and distinctly the religious commu~ nities in our midst to remain true to their founders' ideals and to fulfill ~their, specific mission in th.e w_ay that they alone °can do. In other words, 9s bishop, it is my duty to see to it that the apostolic commitment of each ~ ~ ~ ., ~ Refie~ctions.-bf a Bishop on Religigus Communities / 27 community is in keeping with and true to the spirit of their Rule. I must be available to help each religious entrusted to my pastoral care--and that includes every one in the diocese where I ministeruto be true to the specific charism of his or her community. It is my deep hope and confident prayer that religious, for their part, will serve each diocese in which they labor, not as general practitioners of gospel values (nor will: they accept ministries which would expect such an approach), but rather will share the fruits of their own foundations with the whole people of God in the particular and unique way that they are able. Admittedly such an approach demands a restructuring on the part of young and old alike. But that revamping is essential to the future flowering of the religious life and the future fulfillment of the Church. Unity Through Diversity In conclusion, the renewal of every religious community is eventually going to bring each congregation to the realization that we are all struggling toward the day when Jesus will be "'all in all," where there will be no distinct communities because the vision of every founder will finally be focused together in~ the one reality of the Lord Jesus. And there will be'no more religious communities because there will be only one religious Com-munity in the City of Goti; there will be, in the-~0rds of St.'Aug~astine, "one Christ loving himself." Yet, as we move toward that day of fulfillment, we musl move in the paradoxical fashion of human naturemfor~we move toward unity through .diversity. It is that great diversity of religious ingight and,~xp~erience which must be shared.with the Christian Community'in order that its unity might be achieved mor~ effectively and all-inclusively. In order to accomplish that objective; y,oung religious must take gr~at pride in the"tradition to which they ~ commit themselves, a pride that will make them zealous sharers, with all'God's people, of:the girls entrusted by the Spirit to their care. For ,those girls shall be, preserved only if they are generously commu-nicated to and'for the Church. And religious must learn to see in the bishop ,a source of support and solicitude, no longer the "'enemy,''-~but a loving brother, deeply concerned for their well-being and their growth. For the bishop clearly should understand that the future of religiousfife is the future life of the Church. - ~0 As the~Spirit shared the great diversity of his charisms on. that first Pentecost, magi the message that Mother Church has given to her ministers on this past Pentecost Sunday fill all of us ~4ith deep respect and concern for the building up of the girls entrusted to each of us for the life of the Church. Th, en.the grace of the Ho!y ,Spirit will fio~d fulfillment in us all as we bec~me truly one in Christ to the glory of God "the Father. From.""Ministry'' tO"Church Work" The.Fate of Tired Souls Paul Marceau, C.S.C.' " Father Marceau is a doctoral candidate in spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union, .Berkeley, CA. Presently he is on the staff of Moreau Seminary; Notre Dame, IN 46556. n the aftermath of the recen~ papal election a news commentator referred to one of Pope John Paul's distant predecessors who, after assuming the office, said that he spent so much time tending to the needs of others that he was in danger of becoming a stranger to himself. The problem of the threat of'being consumed by the demands of ministry is not a new one. Jesus himself seemed to recognize this danger and from time to,time would draw the disciples aside to rest (Mt 14:13f.). In this articl6 I~will sketch what 1 believe ~to be a particular form which that problem' takes 'in apostolic religious life today: the phenomenon of the over-burdened, under-cared-for religious who is being consumed by apostolic and community work and who, in the process, may be dying a slow and painful death as a human being, a minister, and a religious. As the life of such a person gets frag-mented by the constant demands of apostolic ministry there is a danger of losing one's personal center, and one's relationship with God becomes threatened in the process. Whenthat happens in the life of any minister in the Church I would suggest'that the apostolic activity of such an individual ceases to be "ministry" °and becomes only "church work." Most reiigious in apostolic communities have found (and continue to find) the early years of ministry an intoxicating experience. The apostolic life which they enter after their years in formation is challenging and de-manding. There seems to be so much to be done, so many needs to be 28 From ,"Ministry" to '~Church Work" attended. Within a short time the religious begins to feel needed and ap-preciated in ways that were unknown and perhaps impossible in the years of formation? There. develops a greater sense of self-worth as the person begins to do what he or she could only reflect upon or do only in a controlled and well-regulated way in the years of formation. There is a sense that one is finally fully immersed in ministry and with that comes the sense that one isat last doing something with his or her life, and not simply preparing to do so. A.new dimension of the personality develops and becomes more cen-tral: that of the hainister and apostle. The focus shifts from what ~was, in the years of fOrmation, substantially pr.eparatory, receptive, and to a large degre,e inner-directed and reflective to the active, the outward, the full immersion in ministry. The apostplate in these early years after formation makes heavy de-mands on self and time but most individuals are excited by this and would not want it to be otherwise. With the constant need and cpnstant demand of the apo.stolate, however, there come problems with the m.anagement of one's time and, ,indeed, of one's life. There is less and less time (and perhaps even desire) for leisure, for one's own concerns, for reflection upon one's life. Given the choice between the needs of others and one's "free time"0 (and there doe~ not alw.ays seem to be a choice), the religious often sacrific~es w.tlat .is the e~siest to sacrifice: personal time and space. Prior to the Changes in religious iife'which took place following Vatican I1, time for prayer and reflection was protected, at least in theory,2 by being built into~ the schedule. Such tim(for private ~'ea.ding, prayer, and refl+ction, how-ever, isnow no longer "given"; it has to be found and it seems ~ncreasingly difficult.to find it. Personal prayer and reflection gradually have come to be nudged out of the lives of many by the hectic ~nd busy pace of their apostolic.life. Indeed, there was a time in the past decade when such times aside f(om'ministry were rl.o.t only considered luxuries but were Iobked upon as 'selfish luxuries, as time stolen from the service of others in need. Perso'n~l prayer beco~n"e~, problematic, even for those with the best of intentions. Few, if any.~,fiaiike a conscious decision to give UP personal prayer; it gimply gets~ pushed out by the "more important" and more immediate concerns of Io~,e and service to others. It is a gradual process by which people's lives simply become so overwhelmed by the 9postolic and. qn the past. of course, apostolic involvement during the years of formation w~s minimal. Young religious were protected from such "outside" distractions. As a result, for people trained in such a context, immersion into full-time ministry,provided a shocking change from . their years of formation, The change is less abrupt today since significant apostolic involve-ment is seen as a critical part of formation. Nevertheless, the "full-time" ministry has a dynamic of its own which can really be experienced only in the doing of it, no matter how well one is prepared for it. zWhile time for meditation, spiritual ~'eading, examination of conscience, and so forth, may have been provided in previous schedules, there is certainly enough evidence to wonder to what extent such schedules were ac~tually honored--other than by those in formation. 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 community demands that there is simply no time "left over" for oneself., Finding time for' personal prayer becomes a terrible.struggle, the wagingof, ahopeless, losing war. For some, the loss of,,that dimension of their re-ligious life is easily justified by their appeal .to the demands of ministry; for others Such loss is--the Source of much shame and guilt.~ Foi" many, prayer has bedome a time squeezed into'fi hectic and already' cluttered day. It is ~so~ething to be fitted in between Walter Crorikite ahd'~ an evenin~g meeting, or between a dis~tressing hous~ meeting arid the celebration of the Eticharist.:These patterns of prayer-time tend to reflect their livegt prayer time itselfis'9 hectic and bdsy,°'often cluttered, time. Even when the time is fotindfor it, prayer is'filled with the concerns of 0ne's~ day. It is a time full of distractions, a very busy and unfocused time, filled~ with the hundreds of stimuli that the individual brings off ~he street with him: The time which one struggles to have alone'with God becomes a time to do a lot Of religious "business," a trine for pra~,ing for the concerns ministry, .for commending to ~he Lord all the. wounded who ha~d tbuched one's life that day. The time "aside" is really no time aside at'fill but simply a 'diffei-erit'fOi'um for doing what"one had been doing all'day long. " " For"others, the dynamic of personal prayer shiftg from "time aside" to prayer-on-the-i'un, a kind of "are you running ~vith me~, 'Jesus" format. There is sirrligly no 'time to tend to the'personal reli~gidoiums e"n °s i~o'n~ "o:f ~ o' n~e* :s~ ' life, and God is put on "hofoldr "~ n'"creas"~ °ngly lon"g ~er. "p~e ,r i.~ods of time. Not infrequently i'eligious m~ke little bargains with God, prom'ising to return to him at a latCr date when there is more time available: "I'm g?ing tO be very busy this s~'ineste~ and I reall3i won't have mucl~time for prayer ' but I'll get back t'~3ibu at Chris~tmasvacation or during the~summer when things let up a liitle." But Chrqst~n°~s o~:summer vacation corhes along, and when there ts finally t~me for prayer, such individuals find that they can no longer pray as they once d~d because they have fallen out of the habit of personal prayer. The closeness and the ~nt~macy ~s no longer there; God seems to be further away. The more personal, direct and intimat~'relationship~vith God that one might have known in quieter and mor~ peaceful ti~e~ is gone. There is a dis-ea'se about one's relationship to God, and the times alone with him are f0un'd~{o be somewhat strained and uncomfortable. The struggle to fi'nd some t~me aside does not, aftei- all, seem to' be quite worth it because thOre does not seem to be much pbint to it. " ~ Iwshort, given the difficulty of finding times for prayer,~ and the busy and hectic pace we experience,e.ven when they fire found, prayer time becomes~ more and more minimalT"and what there is becomes increasingly lesg satisfying. As a.result,, m~ore and more weight for the spiritual life comes to be put on community, or on "apostolic prayer." Liturgy and'common prayer become the focus and substance of the prayer life .of many to the exclusion of~all other forms. But with that, .there is often felt an, uncom-fortable dissonance between what one says in his~ministry and'what one' From "Ministry" ,to "Church Work" d0es.-,Thus~, although he may preach eloquently; celebrate reverently, discuss the gospel enthusiastically and be complimented and affirmed by his parishioners, students, and fellow community members as being a good priest andreligious, the spiritual dimension of apostolic and community I.ife seems to have no echO;in his ownolife: He believes the message and is sincere when he tblls others about it, but at times it seems very far frorfi what he himselffis experiencing. Neverthe!ess, sharing sacraments,and common prayer~with others is at least a lifeline for many. When there is a dis-ease and a discomfort about being too alone with oneself and with°G0d, one can often find solace in participating in the more formal, more .struc-ttired ,forms of prayer, such as the sacraments and Office, since slach f/arms allow 'one to approach God without being too alone before him. Just as p~ople must build up habits of pr.aYer with time and practice, so it is that they fall out of the habits of personal prayer. Thps, ~hen a pe,rson's life become~ overwhelmed and fragmented by a busy and hectic apostolic ministry, personal prayer becomes difficult not only because of time con-siderations but because the doing of it becomes an uns~itigfying thing. For one who has fallen out of the practice .of personal prayer, moments o~f aloneness can become very frightening, and so instead of struggling tofind such times of alonene'gs and of the oppo~:tunity to foc~us within, the religio0,s may eventually fipd h~mself strugghng to avotd focusing w~th~n for fear of seeing too deeply, with to6"~uch clarity, ~hat may be happening to his fraghaehted life. When tli~it' h~ppens, the 'i~dividual spends an enor~mous amount of time and psychic energy fleeing such moments, protecting him: self from God. P~rsons sensing this dis-ease a, bout the'Jr relationship with God may read about God, talk al~out God, may do'the works of the Church and~ma~ even°hpproach G~d. in the company of othersobut they are often unable to bear facing God' in their aloneness, to be ~ilent before him. If such.is.the fate of n.ot a few apostolic religious in the past decade (and I believe it has b, een), then the task for them, again, becomes one of the struggle t9 av.oid, such moments. The apostolate, itself a contributory cause to this state of affairs, becomes a welcome and easily legitimized.distraction from facing oneself. Religious can throw themselves into their_work and give themselves over to be consumed by the apostqlic need which, as a matter of fact, is always ~,aiting there to be cared for. But this is not the zeal of those early y~ears of their ministry; it is, in fact, just the oppqsite. The work, what one does, is now.no longer ,a way of sharing what is inside, but a way of avoiding it. Instead of zeal andenthusiasm driving one from within to sha~e what.~e .has pers.onally experienced and discovered about'life and about God,,there is flightto the work for its own sake, a flight away from the i,nterior self. ~with diminishing personal energies and resources.tq ~driye and sustain himself, he becomes willingly carried along by the demands of the apostolat~e, .and~ lifebecomes one busy apostolic distraction. When ihat .happen,s, when,a person becomes emptied inside and can live .only on'the 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 outside, then he is:no longer engaged in the doing of ministry but.is simply busy about doing what I would call simply "church work." The irony of all this is that a person may be, and very frequently is at this same time in life, just h!tting his professional stride, doing the kinds of things that he always wanted to do in ministry,~with all the requisite pro-fessional training, and receiving very reassuring feedback from others about his ministry--and yet the.re seems to be something terribly missing, and he cannot understand why~ He may be doing very good work, pro-fessionally satisfying, assisting others in. living their lives and yet feel that he.is not doing a very good job of living his own. He might say to himself: "I should be happy but I am not. What is the matter with me?" As one person expressed it to me: "I am good and successful at what I am doing. ! enjPy it and find satisfaction in it--but why do I feel like I am dying?" The constant concerns and needs of others (and the constaht need to be focusing outside oneself), the very things .which used to energize and sus-tain the person in the early years of ministry, now only drain energies and makes the indiviidpal feel th~it his whole life', by choice"or by abdication, is being consumed by the apostolate. The apostolate has become for him a thousand-tentacled monster, constantly making demands, never letting up, constantly draining him of diminished or even exhausted personal energies. For the weary church worker the apostolate becomes a.two-edged sword: it is a welcome distraction protectin.g him from looking too closely within and, at the same time, a drain upon his personal energies even to the point of exhaustion. There is a variation to the above theme ~f the one who allows his life to become c~onsumed by the apostolate~ in order to avoid what may be dying inside, and this variation is marked by the opposite of involvement: with-drawal. For this person the apostolate becomes an eight-hour-a-day (or less)job and he is quite capable of walking away from it in order, as he sees it, to preserve his own necessary personal time and space; Having created sixteen hours of personal time and space of the twenty-four, however, the task he faces then becomes One Of filling up his space and time so that he will dot be left alone with it. In order to defend himself from se6ing the void within, the individual will do anything to fill up that time, to be distracted. He will read novels and magazines for hours (this may be his'version of "'being alone"). He may spend evening after evening watching television without really knowing or caring what is on the screen. He may arrange a heavy social schedule.'He will do anything rather than face the emptiness and discomfort that is within him. The weary church worker's life has become overwhelmed and frag-mented by the consuming demands of today's apostolate. He may be a victim of the work but. in the end; he knows that b,~ ,.'s a willing victim. He m'ay even see himself in the role of a martyr, giving his all that the world rr]ay be saved (or at least a little'more saved). But underneath the hectic and clu~ttered life of today's church worker, there is the danger of building up F¢om "Ministry" to "Church Work" /,33 increasing levels of resentment against those whom he serves. The de-mands never let up and nobody will leave hi~n alone. He may be tired. There may be a lot of suppressed anger and resentment. But worse than either of these, as long as he seems-to be good and successful in his work, is the fact that nobody seems to care about what is dying inside him and how he feels about himself and his ministry. The problem, in fact, is that no one can see what is dying inside him. All the outward signs appear to be good. The iridividual is busy, involved, committed to the apostolate, and actually doing good work there. He is sociable and affable in community, relating well there. No one can see what is happening inside him because no one is allowed to see it. The individual may have a difficult time even bringing himself tO see it and there may be too much shame and guilt to allow anyone else to see it. All the while the person may be saying: "they (superiors, fellow religious, fellow ministers) are themselves too busy ministering to others and I cannot burden them with my problems; I know what I~feel like when one more problem comes my way and I don't want to be just one more problem for' them." There is a final, cruel irony in the situation of the apostolic religious who, by the process described above, has been turned into a busy church WorkeL There is a rehewed interest and concern for spirituality and praye~ in the Church today--and that is w~lcomed. Religious are once more con-cerned about their relationship with God. But, as often a~ not, that concern is a source of guilt rather'than a source of strength. Concern for spirituality and prayer--whether the concern is assumed or imposed~--isjust one more ~lemhnd placed upon the life oLthe already tired religious. Instead of one's i'elationship with God being the source of personal energy and an impetus to ministry, it can become just one more thing to worry about along with.all the others~ one more thing with which the religious has neither the timenor the energy to contend. Instead of being the place of rest where he no longer has to be doing and Working, his prayer becomeg just one more thing to do and to work at. Instead of his relationship with God being the source and center of life, it is thrown in with all the other things which clamor for attention in a life which has lost its center. Apostolic religious communities in America today are running the risk of producing amongtheir members merely weary church workers suffering from battle fatigue. In the long run, however, there will be a price to pay in human suffering and tragedy, as suppressed anger and resentment can be suppressed no longer and begin to surface, Often in indirect but destructive ways. Religious will retire too Soon from the battle, burnt out men and women who will no longer be driven or taken advantage of. They will unclutter their lives of hectic apostolic activity and then turn and fill them up with other more relaxing distractions; but whether busy with apostolate or busy with relaxing distractions, many will be leading lives of quiet desperation because their lives no longer have any focus or center to hold them together. Review for Religious, Volunie°38, 1979/1 There are alternatives, I think, to the way we live apostolic religious life and the way we do ministrytoday. Just ~as~we do no good for a.materialistic society if we ourselves get caught up in its materialistic ethos, likewise we do little good for a society that runs at an insane pace, fragmenting the lives of its people when we ourselves run at; that.~same pace, becoming quite as fragmented in our own lives. A different style and pace of apostolic religious life need not mean that apostolic ministry be less involx;ed, less concerned, or less whole-hearted than it is now. .~ . ~.," Finding the meaning of one's life in one's relationship to God and sustaining that relationship personally through reflection and prayermmany indeed "take time away from others" but it may also allow us to offer them something more than what had been our busy, overburdened lives. G~'ound-ing our personal lives outside of the work we do may both'free us from the apostolate and, at the same time. free us for it. We will be freed from the apostolate not in the sense that we will lose the apostOlic dimension of our life in favor of the comtemplative life but rather in'!the sense that the meaning of our lives, as individuals and as communities, would no longer be tied to this specific apostolate and this particular work. "We would be freed from the works of our own hands to pursue and minister to the needs of people wherever and whatever they may.be, On .the other hand, it may well be that we would be doing the same kinds of. things ,that we are ,doing now,. but the person doing them will be different: still busy, but less frantic, and bringing to those situations a life which is a little calmer, a little more rootedand peaceful. Our apostolic ministry might be less cluttered but, at the same time, more deeply involved; we might be less frenzied, but also more zealous about the things we do. Finding the focus and center of one's life in God and taking time to tend to that dimension of life will give impetus and focus to our ministry. It will take :nothing away from it but will, instead, make ministry all the more importantmand all the more possible. "Promises to Keep"' A Homily for Final Vows J.Peter Schineller, S.J. Father Schineller, ~ member of the faculty of the Jesuit School of Theology in Chicago (JSTC), shared with those who witnessed his final vows in the Society of Jesus the't~houghts and movements that were his then. He resides at 5554 s. Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60637. While'I was visiting "my brother and sister-in-law over the Christmas hblidays, as oftenhappens with a new toy, an argument arose betweeh their two children. The younger boy was unwilling to let his big sister play with his new eiectriC helicopter. The conversation went something like this: "It's my t6rn! You'have to let me play ffith~it."" "I don't want to and 1 don't have to." "You have to, and you know you have to." "I don't ~have to,' and I ~on't." "You have to, because you promised!" "Well, OK." My five year old nephew was trapped. He was caught by his promise, and he kne~ it. He knew in his child's wisdom that a prom~ise is something special, something sacred, and not just any old word. Promises make a difference.' "The child in me made promises more than 18 years ago, not about toys, but about how to spend my whole life*; promises not to ariother pers6n, but promises to God, tlie Father of all persons. And here I am this ~evening, to *The Jesuit's "first vows," taken at the end of the novitiate, include the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. (Editor)' 35 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 renew and to finalize those promises in my profession of "final vows," and to renew the promises with joy and enthusiasm. And so in these last few moments in which I am still a Jesuit scholastic, I would :like to share a few thoughts on 1) how I see these promises, 2) where the inspiration to make the promises comes from, and 3) how it is possible for anyone to make a profession of vows. First of all, what am I promising and vowing this evening? In one sense, it is nothing new, nothing beyond what I promised eighteen years ago, a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. It is not a new turn, a grandiose new option, but rather a public statement of my choice tO continue on the road begun. Yet in another sense, it is a new choosing, because with eyes far more open than 18 years ago, I am saying, "This is the path for me, and I promise to take this path as long as I live." The promises I make tonight are promises that I can only make tonight, and could not have haade five, ten--or eighteen years ago. Much has been written about the meaning of the vowed life. i donit intend'to present a new theory, but let me say briefly how.I see what I am promising. In the vow of obedience, I am saying that I will not try to build ~a career for myself. Rather my life is a responding life in the Society of Jesus, a response to the call of God as seen in the needs of others. In chastity I am foregoing the joys, pleasures and anxieties of building a home and family and thus establishing family roots. My basic community will be the Jesuits I live, work, and move with. In this way I hope to be available for loving service, wherever the good news of God's love is called for. In poverty I am saying that I will look upon my time, talents, education as always God's gift to me, not for myself, but to be shared in the service of others. Finally, I promise to do all of this as a member of the Society of Jesus. That is much easier to grasp and to explain. For it means living, growing, working, enjoying life, and dying with many of the persons you see here. And it is quite a group: young and old, tall and short, from all over the United States, and even from around the world. What do w,e have in common? All of us are engaged in the serious convers.~ition and ctiallenges of Christian life and ministry, in the~.tradition of Ignatius and the many .great Jesuits of the past and present. We are trying-in many different ways to let the good news of the love of God break into this world. ~ Secondly, where do I get the urge or inspiration to make these vows and promises? If it comes simply from my own imagination, then I could make and break these promises without further ado. But years ago, in quiet and diverse ways, the idea crept into my head to be a Jestlit and a priest. The idea came fr.om reading books, from conversation; from the example of my family, parish priests, and from Jesuits who taught me, And so I responded. "Promises to Keep," A,Homily for Final Vows But it was a long time ago that the journey began. Today where do I get the inspiration to make this profession of final 'vows? It seems to me that the process is quite similar. You, so many here, and so many who couldn't be here, in your own ways, have kept ~the vision and ideal of being a Jesuit priest before my eyes. YOU have been sending me signals, challenging, pushing, leading m.e, ~and so I respond. You have been sending me signals,' as I read them, that indicate that what I am about is good, and is from God. Signals have come from the parish at Harvey, Where I help on Sundays, to friends and teachers at the University of Chicago; from Jesuits in New York to students I teach and learn with here at the Jesu.itSchool of Theology; from fellow faculty members, friends of Hyde Park, to those I live with at Jesuit House. And I have to rely on :these signals, signals which have given me hope, courage, and confidence .,that 1 am on the right path. There is one conviction that has grown over the years, that while the vows are finally from God and made to God, it is according to his plan and purpose that the desire and courage to take and renew the promises of vows always comes mediated through.human lives. I sensed today a new insight into, or application of the parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25. If I might dare paraphrase it, I would say, "what I prpmise or vow to you, the least ofGod's brothers and sisters, I am vowing to God himself." But thirdly, how it is ppssible to make and live such promises? Many would say that this way of life is inhuman, psychologically unhealthy, or even un-Christian. How can i be sure that this is truly the will of God for me? How can I avoid the danger of the vows, the danger of being un-loving, irresponsible, the danger of pride in thinking that I have chosen a "better w~y" than n0n-vowed life? How can I'choose or control the future, and say where I wish to be ten or thirty years from now? Am I not fighting against Christian freedom, the freedom of the Spirit? Finally, and most trouble-some, how can I promise to God what he alone can give true obedience, holy poverty, and perfect chastity? These virtues are his gifts, and so how dare I promise or vow them'before God? The answer to these difficulties and°dangers must be an answer in faith, hope, and loving trust. Let me explain: I used to think I could figure it out--and had figured it out. I had what I thought was an adequate view of God, a solid enough view.of myself and the meaning and possibiliti~es of human life. I thought that on the basis of this perspective I could pronounce and keep my vows. They made a lot of sense. Now I see it is ndt so easy. For I see that vowed life, in common with all life, is, to use Karl Rahner's phrase, "a surrender to the mystery and incomprehensibility of God." I can't give a complete and adequate rational account or grounding for vowed life, for myself or anyone else. But on the basis of expei'ience and prayerful reflection, I dare to say that this life is not only.possible, but it is God's will and graced way for me. Living the vows as I have been about and encoun- 311 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/'1 tering the mystery of God in and through them is. their only final justification. Th.ey have been, are, and I say tonight, will continue to be my way to meet God, to be myself, and to respond to the needs .of God's people., Just as the Jesuit-.style of life has shaped my daily existence, so, in a.mysteriou.s way, the vowed life has shaped and formed my faith-filled idea of God himself. The God, revealed to me through the vows is a God I can and must stand before in trust. He is the one. who gives joy, peace, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose and mission far deeper tha~ any that I could create or grasp on my own. Moving to the center of the mystery of the possibility of the vows, I dare to say in and through these vows that God, the incomprehensible one, is not distant, far-off, uninvolved, but rather he is somehow present and working as the one who makes possible these promises in the first place. I find I am almost forced to say that he, in his Holy Spirit, is making the vbws and promises in and through me. And go only on this basis.do I dare to promise what God alone can give as gift. For I am convinced that it is a response to his impulse and urge that pushes me to make this commitment. I began these reflections with the story of a child:s pr~mise at Christ-mastime. Let me conclude with a poet's words on promises. In the midst ofa busy Week in a snow filled winter in Chicago, a pocida of Robert'Frost is perhaps most appropriate, "Stopping by Woods on a Siaowy Evening." It is good that we are here together, pausing; ~stopping not by woo~is, but in the city i~f Chicago in Augustana Lutheran Church.Tlie poet, stopping with his horse and carriage explains, "The woods are lovely, d~rk and deelS." And ~peaking formyself, Isay, yes,the woods I have journeyed through over ,the past eighteen years have been lovely, dark and deep. The woods a~re lovely--exciting, encouraging, adventuresome and challenging years, with beautiful moments of joy and peace, so lovely that~ I gla.dly, freely continue down this path. The woods are dark--filled with the .unexpected, from a pre-Vatican II Church onward towards Vatican III, with the graced paradox of a Jesuit pronouncing his final vows in a Lutheran church. Final-ly, the woods are deep if nottiing else the years of th~ journey have been deep, far too deep for me to understand and explain all that led me here tonight,, and all that is involved in this celebration, far tro deep for me to adequa.tely thank all who have supported and e, ncouraged me. Yes, the woods have been deep--filled with the mysterious presence of God in one humari life. The,,woods I,have journeyed through have been lovely, dark and deep, and I am saying in effect tonight that I would not trade a~0ay this way of, life through the woods for any other way. I say this joyfully, and as strongly as I can. But we can't stop here and pause here too long in-snow filled Chicago. For as the poet reminds us,'and as his poem concludes: "Promises to Keep," A Homily for Final Vows / 39 The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. May God who is Father, Son and Spirit continue to strengthen and guide each one of us on our journeys in the miles ahead. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "CelibateGerhtality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Celibacy and Contemplatio~n,'~ D. Dennehy, S.J . 30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . 3.0. "Consciousness Exhmen," G: A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. . ~.50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Asch~ffbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation;' S.C. for Rel!gious . ~ . .~. . 35 "Prayer-of Personal Reminiscence," D. J,' Hassel, S.J .6.0. '~Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of .Disdernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J. ' . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in CelibateDevelopment," P. Cristatitiello . . . ~ . 60 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O,P. .~.3.0 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .7.5. "The Contemporary Spirituality of ihe Monastic Lectio," M, Neuman, O.S.B: . ~. . 50 "The Four Momeiats of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J .5.0. "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith,oS.J . :.° . .35 Orders for the' above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St~ Louis, MO 63108 Destructive Passivity Spiritual Direction in Judith Roemer Sister Judith is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. ecently, I have become aware of the work of Aar.on a.nd Jacqui Schiff on psychological aspects of passivity (T. A. Journal, 1:1, January, 1971). As I read some of their findings, I began to see applications to the situation of spiritual direction. I began to realize how important it is for directors to be more alert in detecting patterns of destructive passivity in their directees. I came to recognize how important it is not to foster such patterns. It.seems to me, then, that noting and examining the categories of these psychologists regarding negative passivity can be highly productive in improving the process of spiritual direction. ~ "Passivity" has long been esteemed in the spiritual life. For that reason, it seems necessary to distinguish clearly from the start precisely what is the subject of this paper. There definitely is a time for activity, and a time for passivity. What seems essential is that passivity, as a way of responding, be carefully chosen. When, after looking at a situation and being in touch with my faith, my intelligence, and my affectivity, I decide to do nothing, I have made good use of passivity. This paper is not about those freely-chosen, well-thought-'out, peacefully and joyfully chosen situations. On the con-trary, this paper is concerned .with a form of passivity which inhibits adult responsibility and substitutes an unproductive way of acting for a decision. Previously I had thought of passivity in terms of "'dging nothing," However, the unproductive types of passivity wear many masks. Along 40 Destructive Passivity in Spirit.ual Direction / lll with "doing. nothing," passivity can take the form of "over-adaptation," "agitation," "incapacitation," and "violence." Each form in turn has many other forms as the category is expanded. In writing about the situation of spiritual~direction, my assumption is that, for the most part, I am dealing with normal, productive adults. Hen~e~ without pushing Schiffs' original categories of abnormal behavior beyond their intent, I suggest that the destructive areas of passive behavior noted by them do have potential tendencies that are also to be~found ~n the situation of directing healthy adults. Both director and directee carl profit by being aware of them. Secondly, I want to show that the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius contain some useful tactics for cou.nteracting destruc-. tive passivity. Using these tactics can be the occasion for providing quality decisions for the furtherance of the Kingdom. Doing Nothing In religious circles we often smile knowingly at the self-made martyr; we chide one another with the standard phrase, "Offer it up." We are indignant at the priest and levite who preceded the Good Samaritan and passed by the wounded stranger because it wasn't their business. We scoff at Cain as iii~ asks about being his brother's keeper. All of these are simply good exam-ples of the first category of destructive passivity, of doing nothing. Not quite so obvious is the example of a person who gathers data ad infinitum; waiting endlessly for the perfect insight, the perfect moment, before con-cretizing his dream in decision. Close to him is the example of the person who is caught in speculation to the point of paralysis. His personal intui-tions convolute beyond time and talent, becoming a threatening burden rather than a beaconing light. Substituting one a~tivity for another, washing the car instead of writing the checks, is yet another form of "doing nothing." A quite obvious form is plain indecisiveness. Not quite so easy to detect would be falling into a certain disproportionate balance of activity and passivity in prayer. One of the greatest struggles in prayer is knowing when to let go of activity in order to be quiet. As a person moves from a meditative stance to a contemplative stance, he is faced with the decision to choose or to resist passivity. Instinctively he would tend to resist whatever would challenge his depen-dence on word, fantasy, clarity or concept. In prayer, though, a person at some time is faced with the necessity of choosing the darkness of faith in place of his familiar dependency on thoughts and feelings. In the Exercises of St. Ignatius, the First Principle and Foundation (23) gives a clear direction against ~'doiflg nothingi': "The other things., are created for man to help him . Hence he ought to make use of them insofar as they help., and to rid himself of them insofar as they prove a hindrance." Later, in the Kingdom (91-98) the id quod volo (grace desired) is indicat- 49 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 ed in the petition to be "prompt and diligent., not to be deaf." Further on, the Three Classes of Men (149-155) portray sets of persons in the midst of decisions. At one extreme is the destructively passive man, who, filled with hopes, dreams, doubts, and attachments, comes to the end of~ his life uncommitted, not having "made use of any means." At the other end is the man of the ThirdClass who has developed a sense of freedom, a willingness to work with many options "to be better able to serve God our Lord." Many,, times people are unaware that there is any way out of their unproductive passivity, and thus see "doing nothing" as a way of survival. But this neednot be the case. A director who insists on careful discernment encourages his directee to find and develop many alternatives, thus lessen-ing the need for anyone to be locked into a single unproductive mode of ¯ acting. Over-adaptation A second, kind of passivity is over-adaptation; taking another's goal as one's own. Unlike the former category of "doing nothing," this one of over-adaptation appears to be busy and productive. Yet the exaggerated dependency role continues to operate and the results are destructive. Fear and "peace at any price" are common manifestations of over-adaptation in religious life. Yet it is often close to ordinary adaptation, which is a necessary~part of human existence. Hence over:gdaptation is difficult~to spot externally. However, careful listening to a directee can give a director many hints of how the directee is going to excessive pains not to cause trouble, to be nice, to be cooperative. Unfortunately it is not uncommon to hear of difficult or even impossible situations in which a person chooses to "sit" on his thoughts and feelings, to "adapt" rather than confront another person or a structure. The pain is often "offered up," and the unhealthy situation persists lest the individual be considered unmortified, or narrow-minded. Fear, too, can be used to mask over-adaptation. Especially among reli-gious women, being timid sometimes has an air of virtue about it. The timid woman wants to be rescued, preferably by a male spiritual director who will protect, reassure, and comfort her without suggesting that she move out of her unproductivity :and decide, with his help, what she is to do about it. Rather insidiously, this kind ofpassivity can be a mask for a deeper kind of aggression. It is difficult to challenge someone who is "trying so hard" to cooperate. Consciously or unconsciously, it doesn't take too long for the over-adapter to learn how much control can be gained in such a situation. Unfortunately, this kind of over-adaptation is often canonized as "docility." ,. Ironically, gaining control through over-adaptation often proves frus-trating. In the effort to mold, regulate and maintain the climate of safety created by over-adaptation, the directee often cannot hear the voice of the Destructive Passivity in Spiritua[ Direction Spirit. This kind of person has set up an atmosphere in which he does not have to give up his security. In clinging to safety he has substantially cut himself off from the world of inspiration and challenge. Directors often see this in directees who cannot believe that God could possibly be leading them beyond their self-made rules, beyond their self-made security and safety. Directees see this in directors who speak only of asceticism, never of mysticism, who prefer devotions and practices instead of fidelity to the Spirit. In some way those who claim they have no time for prayer as well as those who claim they cannot be involved with their neighbors both have fallen heir to passivity,in the form of over-adaptation. The former have let the rat race rather than their own head, heart and faith decide their destiny. The latter have refused to be molded by the poverty, particularity, and concreteness of the Incarnation.' Lastly, in our day, we often fail victim to concern for public relations. Our assumptions about what the bishop will think, what the lay teachers will think, what our community will think, what the Protestants Will think, what the children will think, and so on, endlessly, often decide the course of important events ?Further, they are used as a justification and motivation for over-adapting, for decisions which are unworthy of our faith experi-ence. Over-adaptation is an excellent example of how the "angel of darkness" comes disguised as an "angel of light" (Ex 332). We are all familiar with the monsters that have arisen in the guise of virtue under such "headings as availability, community, poverty, or blind obedience. Burning the candle at both ends, :navel gazing, stinginess, and the ill-use of human talents are all destructive~and.unworthy of the Kingdom. Those who have suffered these delusions might well look less to over-adaptation and more to considered responsiveness in their future decision-making. The Exercises are intended to be a celebration of one's gift of spiritual freedom. Key to that~disposition is ~ spirit of indifference. 1 can use things when I need them and put them aside when they hinder'rme. I canchoose the one or the other, not being unduly influenced by position, location or advancement. Such a stance demands a sense of presence: pres~ence to myself ag I accept the wonder and agony of who I am; and presence'to God as I accept the reality of Someone beyond'me who loves me, At the peak~ of the Ignatian ,experience, the exercitant becomes a cor~templative-in-action. Again and again, each one of the exercises faces him with the question: "What do I want?" He is asked to identify his desire and pray for what he needs. He is asked to face the reality of what he can do, what he needs to ask for, what he plans to do about it all. As though this were not enough, he is asked to order his de~i~es, prioritize his Iongings, lest he assume the posture of the man of the Secon~l Class (Ex 154), thus leaving himself open 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 to compromise and mediocrity, It is comforting to note that over-adaptation is often the easiest of the unproductive passivities to remedy. Most people who are negatively pas-sive have done a lot 0fthinking :to arrive at such a position. They are equally capable of assimilating new. information, though. For this reason, it would be a good thing for a director to confront such negative passivity directly. Thinking seriously about developing more positive options, a director and directee can develop new alternatives that lead to more creative results. Agitation The third category of unproductive passivity is agitation, the repetition of actions that have no meaning in terms of what the individual is seeking. In prayer this often shows itself in the kind of spiritual gluttony that ex-cludes the invitation to the darkness of faith. Most of us who pray consistently catch ourselves at times trying too hard, attempting to "program" a religious experience by learning the new-est techniques, and then clinging to the resultant experience as though it were God. Once an individual has fallen into this, it ultimately comes to him asa surprise to find that faith is~dark. His experience with this darkness then arouses anger, possessiveness, the demand that God come to him on his terms. His first experience with this reality often brings about more agita-tion in the form of worry, fretting, the gloomy exaggeration of his situation out of all proportion to its reality. Many persons tend to drop prayer at this point; "Nothing is happening," they say. Or they become over, involved in new techniques, in more interesting works, or in other people, rather than take the effort to learn to live comfortably with dark faith. Since religious people tend to be idealistic, they tend to strive for goals so high that the gap between the real self and the ideal self creates depres-sion rather than energy. Here is where good direction offers an opportunity for balance. Directors should be on the alert for extremes. Wild imaginings in time of prayer, quickly changing moods of sadness, exuberance, fear, or zeal need testing. It seems unlikely that experiences of being "bugged by God" about small ~hings or "being made to suffer" by God hold up in the pro.cess of good discernment. It is more likely that persons have allowed themselves the "luxury" of agitation as a replacement for the decision to accept fully the implication's of their call. Such a decision, lived, is sobering. Life with God becomes quiet, gentle, strong, and often hidden. One must be willing to give up the excitement of flurry, th.e pride of being a "martyr to the cause," the prestigiousness of extraordinary phenomena. The con-crete decision i.s amazingly simple, poor, and hidden, just as it was when the Word was made Flesh. St. Ignatius has many suggestions for coun~teracting agitation. In the Rules for Discernment for the First W~eek (313-327) he describes the behav-ior that is characteristic of those facing their own sinfulness. He warns Destructive Passivity in Spiritual Direction against secrecy, sadness, false reasoning, restiessness, frames of mind that lead to lack of faith, hope, and love. In the Second Week's Rules for Discernment (328-336) he describes the experience of agitation as "'violent, noisy, and disturbing." These, he counsels, are from the evil one. Again, [the course of thoughts suggested to us] may end in what weakens the soul, or disquiets it; or by destroying the peace, tranquility, and quiet which it had before, it may cause disturbance to the soul. These things are a clear sign that the thoughts are proceeding from the evil spirit, the enemy of our progress and eternal salvation ~333). Unfortunately, many enjoy their agitation. Not only does it substitute for their having to make a decision, but they can often find convincing reasons to suggest why it is actually accomplishing something. However, this would be a dangerous area to cultivate.Little that is long-lasting for the K~ngdom is accomplished through such agitation. Further, the'anxiety that I am arousing can move me into the more destructive aspects of passivity: incapacitation or violence. For the director, little or nothing is accom-plished by cooperating with the agitation ofhis directee. In fact, trying to dialog logically with a person in this state often brings the directee more deeply into a dependency role, delaying a good decision. In these cases an effort should be made by both director and directee to calm the agitation, moving it back to an over-adaptive situation where, temporarily at least, the director can give calm instructions that will provide a better atmosphere for the directee to think of alternatives and decide on more productive options. Incapacitation A more entrenched kind of passivity is the fourth type: incapacitation. 'One of the most common manifestations of freezing or incapacitation tn spirituality is stubbornness, an unwillingness to move one step further until I fully understand where I am going. This kind of stubbornness commonly occurs during the transition from meditation to contemplation. "I don't know what is going to happen, and I will not let go until I do," The result is that I stay where I am, often giving up mental prayer as a result. Hand-maid to stubbornness is scruple, a fear of doing something good lest I be wrong or at least somewhat ill-motivated, Much good can be left undone while a person worries about whether or not he is proud, vain, or ambitious, The Exercises answer this frame of mind. lfl such cases one should raise his mind to his Creator and Lord, and if he sees what fie is about to do is in keeping with God's service~, or at least not opposed to it, he should act directly against the temptation. According to St. Bernard, we must answer the tempter, "" I did not undertake this because of you, and I a.m not going to relinquish it~because of you" (351). Refusing to let go of an emotion, pleasant or agonizing, is another form of incapacitation. "'I can only pray provided it is a high experience." ""Io have grown comfortable with my anger (resentment, low self-image) and 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 the atmosphere I create helps me feel secure. I control my environment." Unfortunately, the situation backfires and shields the individual from life, i~ssenin'g the likelihood of his loving or suffering, rejoicing or crying with the rhythms of the real world. Having entrenched himself in his low self-image, he begins to project distorting 'images on God. God becomes the Great Controller, the Life-Taker, the Divine Exactor, rather than the Evoker of Freedom and the Loving Father. Lastly, incapacitation demon-strates itself as an unwillingness, an inability to look at one's blind spots. Fear of losing the security of his images often prevents the individual from being called beyond his own devices to the darkness of faith by the whispers of the Spirit. The Ex~rcises face incapacitation firmly by asking the individual to seek for the gift of knowing that he is deeply loved and ~knowing that he is at the same time sinful. Coupled with that grace is his growing realization of who he i~the wonder and the agonywthat leads him to grow comfortable and free with his own reality. In the protection of this new freedom the person does not.have to struggle for survival. He has experienced love. He knows that he is "precious in his sight" (Is 43:4). The Exercises would stir him out of his inactivity, bidding him to look at his secret stubbornnesses as a "false lover" who readily leaves as soon as he is discovered (326). In #325, I am admonished to face the temptation boldly so that it can be put to flight. My willingness to renounce my incapacitation reaches a high .moment when I honest|y put myse|f before Christ on the Cross "as one friend speaks to another" and hear myself own the answers to the triple question, " What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?" (53). Paradoxically, the most extreme kind of passivity is violence. In it I give up my responsibility for thinking and loving to vent my energy on destruc-tion. Among religious people the violence is often inward: psychosomatic illness, masturbation, guilt, tortured imaginings. These are a poor substitute for the ecstacy to which I am called. The individual prefers the certainty of destruction to the uncertainty of wonder. Even worse, ,he can cloak the mess he has created in a false rationalization of the Third Degree of Humil-ity (Ex 167),thinking that these passivities are his way of bearing poverty, humiliation, and scorn with Christ. Eventually the fruits of distress and frustration, both in himself and in those who have to live with him, will hopefully bring him to his senses. The fruits of true Christian suffering and a true participation in Christ's life always bring forth peace and joy in the depths of the spirit. Violence can also be outwardly directed. We religious may not throw a chair through a window, but we do impose verbal burdens

Transcript of an oral history interview with Priscilla Dole Hatch, conducted by Sarah Yahm on 11 June 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. The bulk of her interview focuses on Priscilla Dole Hatch's family and their long-standing relationship with Norwich University; also discussed are her experiences as an elementary school teacher and her memories of Northfield, Vermont. ; 1 Priscilla Dole Hatch, Oral History Interview June 11, 2015 Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: Hmm. Well, we'll keep trying. This may not work. We might need to reschedule but we're going to give it a shot. I've been having some trouble with my equipment. Um, okay, so you've been here for eighty-something years? PRISCILLA DOLE HATCH: Eighty years actually. SY: Eighty years. Was this the house you were born in? PH: No. No. When my family bought this house when I was four years old. SY: Wow. But you were born in Northfield. PH: Born in Northfield. SY: And where was your, what house were you born in? Where was your original house? PH: The house up on, um, the corner of Stagecoach and Route Twelve. SY: Wow. PH: Right across from the library. SY: Okay. So, you've seen a lot of big changes in your lifetime. PH: Oh, yes. SY: Yeah. So, I guess I'm wondering, so your family has a long-standing history with the University. Right? Could you talk about that relationship a little bit? PH: Okay. Which one? My grandfather? SY: Both. PH: Both of them. Okay. My grandfather Dole, Charles Dole, was acting president for two years. It was at a time when Norwich was having financial difficulties. So, he used his own money to pay the instructors. Of course, there were fewer instructors then than there are now but, um, he did that and then he had, four boys went to Norwich, his four sons. And then he had two brothers I believe that went to Norwich, at least one, maybe two. And then, my other grandfather, Ira Holden, he went to Norwich, I think, two years, because he liked to play football. That was the 2 reason. But then he had to go back and work on the farm. So, he only stayed in for two years. SY: So, I'm wondering, okay, so you were born in Northfield. You grew up here but I'm wondering what your first memory is. PH: My first memory. I don't know if it's from pictures or really a memory but I remember living on Cross Street. And it was a duplex house. We had a family living beside us. Excuse me. We had a family living beside us and there were two boys in the house. And they were, we all played together and had a good time. And let me tell you what I did. Uh oh. One day, I decided to take a walk and I was three, I think. So, I, my mother discovered that I was gone. And so, she started looking for me and they were digging a cesspool line all the way down Vine Street at that time. Of course, they're pretty deep. So, she went the whole length of the cesspool trying to find me. She thought I was fallen in there. Anyway, in the meantime, I had walked down Vine Street but didn't fall in the sewer, walked down Vine Street and then I went down over the bank, walked the tracks until I got into town, into the depot. And then, I went across the, I went across to, um, East Street. Now, I went to visit my mother's hairdresser. That was my point of travel. So, she, of course, was just about crazy and she went to, she finally got the telephone call from her friend, saying, "I have a little girl down here. She walked in just a little while ago." P.S. then, when I got home, I was put on a rope and I was able to, it was on a run and I could, I could move around that way. But I had to stay on that. The little boy next door, the reason I mention him, the little boy next door came running into the house one day, that day, and he said to my mother, "Don't worry, Mrs. Dole. Don't worry, Mrs. Dole. She's all right. I let her go." (Laughs.) SY: Uh oh. PH He thought was, that's pretty much, that's the first big memory I have. SY: How old were you when that happened? PH: About three. SY: About three, oh. So, that was a young memory. PH: I was young. Yes. SY: So, what was Northfield like as a kid? What were your favorite places? What did you do? Where'd you go? PH: Well, we had the, we had the concerts down on the common. We used to go to that in the summer. My father played in the cornet band and as he did at Norwich too. And, oh dear, what else did we do? We didn't have a lot. I mean, we just pretty 3 much played together as kids. My father worked in the post office. And so, he was busy all the time. We didn't have long vacations or anything like that. We pretty much lived at home. And then, I used to go up to my grandmother's, up on Twelve A and they had a farm. And that was when I really had fun, up there too. That was great, great sport. SY: What would you do? PH: Well, if you were really good, you were allowed to ride the hay, what do you call it? SY: Wagon? PH: Wagon! Thank you. The hay wagon, back from the field, when my grandfather was, you couldn't ride it when there was any hay on it. He was too nervous about that. But you could ride once. You could ride down. And so, we used to do that and in the summer, once in a while, I could take a friend and go up there. Then, in the winter, we used to go up to the sugar house because he made maple syrup. You went up over the tracks there and up on the hill behind the, I don't know how to describe that, um, he had a bridge that went across Dog River there and that he had built himself. And then, because he had to take horses upwards to draw the sap. Anyway, he had the sugar house up there and I was allowed to go up there. We would take an egg, one egg with us and it had to be a raw egg. We took that up. He'd put it in the sap. And then, come lunchtime, we had a hard-boiled egg that was cooked in the sap. SY: Oh! Did it have a maple-y taste? PH: Just a tinge. And if it didn't, we thought it did. (Laughs.) SY: Of course, it doesn't matter if it did for real. Yeah. PH: Right. SY: Absolutely. So, I'm wondering what your impressions were of Norwich were as a kid. Did you have much interactions with the cadets? Did you ever get on campus? Do you have any memories? PH: Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. Of course, they were always around. They had more freedom then. They were off campus more. Once we moved here, I don't know how it always happened but they used to come here and, you know, they'd get sick of campus food and they'd come over and have dinner or something like that. My father was acquainted with quite a few of them. And so, you know, I'm just talking three or four, something like that. But they, this kind of got to be their second home. 4 SY: And how did your father know them? Just through the post office or because he was an alum? PH: No. I think through the Masons. He was a Mason and they were learning to be Masons. So, they'd come over here and study, study the, whatever it is. Then, of course, they'd stay for dinner. I can remember my mother making homemade English muffins. They were so good. They would sit down and have those and coffee after their lessons. And they would come. It was interesting. They just seemed to be glad to have a home atmosphere and feel like they could come over whenever they want. Sit on the porch or what have you. So, I knew quite a few of them that way. Of course, we used to go the football games and the basketball games. Then, when I got older, I knew a few of them. Let's see. What did we do when I was older? I dated some of them. SY: Yes. So, you did. You dated indecipherable. So, what did that mean? Going to the balls? PH: I did. Some. Mm hmm. Went to the ball and to the fraternities. They had the fraternities there. We would have parties. One of the boys that I met that I really thought a lot of, after graduation, he came back to visit. On the way back, he was going to grad school in Ann Arbor, Michigan. And on the way back, he was on a flight that went down. So, he was killed unfortunately. Great, great, great cadet. Really nice, nice young man. Anyway, uh. SY: That's very sad. PH: Pardon me? SY: That's very sad. PH: It was terrible. SY: And how old were you when that happened? PH: I was, oh, by then, I was, I had dated him so I was, how old was I? I was nineteen, twenty. SY: And when were you allowed to start dating cadets? PH: It was interesting because then, if you dated a cadet, the town boys wouldn't date you. SY: Why was that? PH: They were jealous, I think. There was a definite demarcation there. You went with one of the other and you didn't go with both. You always had to make a decision. 5 SY: What, why'd you make the decision that you made? Do you remember your teenage thought process about it? PH: Actually, until after I got out of school, I did not date any cadets. I did date the town boys. But then, after that, I don't know. I don't know how it happened. A lot of the boys went away. That was '48 and it was getting close to the Korean War. A lot of them went in the service. Then, I met some through them coming here. I met two of them when they came here. And one of them I dated and we went to the ball, the junior, what was it called, junior. SY: The ring ceremony? PH: Pardon me? SY: The ring, uh, I always forget what it's called. The junior weekend. PH: There was junior weekend but there was a special name for I can't remember what it was. But anyway, it had the king and the queen and the whole nine yards. SY: Yeah. Yeah. PH: Yeah. SY: Would town boys be sort of mean about? PH: No. They just wouldn't date you. It was kind of a, a hidden thing, you know. Nobody talked about it. Nobody said, "I won't date you if you date." That wasn't even part of it but it just happened. That's the way it was. SY: That's very interesting. Let's rewind a little bit and let's talk about, because you're a teenager during World War II. Let's talk about what it was like during World War II in town. Do you have any memories of that? PH: I do. I do. SY: Could you talk about those? PH: I do because I had an uncle and two cousins that were in the War. They were Marines. I was, let's see, at that time, I was trying to think the other day how old I was when the Germans marched into Poland. That was '39, so I would have been eight. I can remember lying in bed and this was a direct route for the planes to go over from Portland to, I think, Massachusetts. I used to worry. I'd hear those planes and I think, "Oh. Are they going to?" You didn't know who they were. Whether they were our or theirs. I used to think about that, lying in bed and I used to think about my cousins, worrying about them, where they were and what they 6 were in to and so forth. Plus, other boys that were in town, you know. You worried about them too. It was an interesting time. I can remember when I heard that the Germans had gone into Poland in 1939. I was walking to school and I met up with somebody who had heard it on the radio and they mentioned it. It was a shock. It was a real shock. Because, of course, we didn't have TV and all of that to get instant information. So, it was hard to take. SY: Yeah. Do you remember deprivation during the War? Do you remember rationing? Do you remember blackout curtains? What was the day to day life like? PH: We had all the curtains on all the windows were all blacked out. SY: So, in this house, all of these windows were blacked out curtains. PH: All the windows were blacked out and, uh, then, they had the civil patrol. What was it called? I think it was called civil patrol. They would go out and canvas the town to see if they could see any light. If they did, they knocked on your door and told you something was leaking somewhere. SY: And was it your job to pull down the curtains? Whose job was it to pull down the curtains? PH: Whoever was near them at the time. Not anybody's job really. SY: Were those blackouts scary? PH: No. No. You just had them all the time. You pulled them down all the time. No. We got used to it. My mother and father were spotters, up on the hill up here. They would go up. Now, my father and friend went from six to twelve because they were working. My mother and the friend's wife went from twelve to six in the morning. So, they were up there all night. SY: Looking for planes? PH: Yes. When a plane went over, they had to notify. If it was going this way, they had to notify if Massachusetts. If it was going that way, they had to notify Portland. SY: And did they have phones with them? How did they? PH: Mm hmm. They had phone service up there. SY: Wow. PH: Mm hmm. SY: And they did that every night? 7 PH: No. Once a week. SY: Once a week. PH: They were scheduled. Different people were scheduled once a week. SY: And it was rotated. PH: It was rotated. It was constantly covered. Somebody was up there. SY: Anybody ever see anything? PH: Just the planes going over, you know. Yeah. No. Nothing happened. Thank goodness SY: No. Nothing did. Do you remember when all of the Norwich cadets left campus and enlisted? Do you remember that? Could you describe that? PH: I do. And then, the ASTP came in. SY: Yes. Could you describe that and tell that story? PH: Well, it's all of the sudden they just were, they left and there was no fanfare, not much fanfare anyway. There was more fanfare when ASTP left. They marched to the train and they went that way, as I remember. SY: Did you see them marching? PH: I think so. I know I saw the ASTP when they went down. SY: What does ASTP stand for? PH: I knew you were going to ask me that. SY: Ha! Ha! PH: Army training service? They were soldiers. SY: Yeah. PH: They were soldiers that, non-com soldiers, you called them, I think. They were up here to, I think they had different stretches like six weeks, six months, I mean. I don't know. I'm not sure what their schedules were. But they were up here and that was time we still had horses at Norwich. They had to, they had to take care of them. In fact, we had two friends, two of the AST people, their wives came and 8 stayed here. One, she could only get away like weekends. So, she'd come here. And then, the other one, she was, oh God bless her, she was only eighteen years old. She followed her husband up here. What the people did around here, they took them in. And they could live with, we had one that lived with us, the one I mentioned for room and board. And they just worked, you know, did the dishes. SY: And they weren't associated with Norwich? They were associated with the Guard or something else? PH: No. They were with ASTP that was up there. SY: But that was up on campus? PH: That was on campus. The boys were on campus. SY: Oh. I see. So, all the Norwich cadets left. And then, the campus was used probably to do some training for the military. PH: Exactly. SY: Okay. Now I understand. Okay. And you remember when they left. And you're a little kid, at this point, watching this happen, watching the country mobilize for war. What were you thinking watching all this? PH: Right. I had to, I don't know. It was just something else that was happening, I think mainly. I don't think, I mean, we knew about it and it was talked about and we were concerned. But we didn't really know what was happening, you know. We couldn't visualize. SY: Was there part of it, because when you're a little kid, any event is sort of exciting, even if it's scary. It's a little bit like a snow day like, "This is a new thing that's happening!" Do remember being excited by all the fanfare? PH: It wasn't that much fanfare, really. It really wasn't. Everything just sort of happened, you know. The fanfare was when they left and I can remember going down to the train with the girl that lived here. And, of course, she was weeping because he was going off. He was going to war then and she was going to have to go back home. She was very distraught. I can remember walking with her down to watch them march down, follow them and to get on the train. It was tough. It really was tough. SY: Was she waving? PH: Yeah. SY: Yeah. And crying? 9 PH: Crying. SY: That sounds hard. PH: They all were. All the girls that were here. Many, many people took the girls in so they could be near them. It just, they were friends forever. SY: Yeah. You stayed in touch with them? PH: Mm hmm. SY: Yeah. PH: Yeah. SY: Wow. Do you know what happened? PH: Went to visit them in Florida many, many years afterwards. SY: Oh. Look at that. So, what about rationing during the War? Were you able, what foods weren't you able to get? How did that, how did daily life change? Did the town feel empty without men? PH: Well, we didn't, we didn't have much trouble as far as meat was concerned because my grandfather had a farm and he butchered the cows or had them butchered. So, we were all right with that but butter and sugar were the two things that were difficult. And, of course, you had your stamps and your little coins that you use. It was an interesting time. You'd go to the store and, oh, and we'd take our fat, fat that you had that you dried out like if you had bacon, if you were lucky enough to have bacon. If you had bacon, then you'd dry that out and you'd take the fat down and they'd give you maybe two cents. SY: For the lard. PH: It was like a donation almost for the lard. SY: And what would they use it for? PH: They turned it back in for, they remade something with it in the war effort. SY: Interesting. Was cloth hard to get? I know that cloth was sometimes rationed. PH: I, probably, probably it was. I know my mother, my mother made everything. She made all the clothes and everything. I don't know if cloth was hard to get. I really don't. 10 SY: Okay. So, you remember your little ration book and stamps and going around and getting things. And was cooking different? Did you cook differently than you had before the war? PH: If you had a pound of bacon, you stretched, I mean a pound of hamburger. You stretched it. You put an egg in it because eggs we could get. You put an egg in it and you'd put some breadcrumbs in it. You really stretched it to make it go. SY: Do you feel like you kept some of those habits throughout the rest of your life? PH: Some of them. SY: Because you also were a Depression baby. You were born during the Depression. PH: Right. SY: Yeah. So, did you feel that that influenced you as an adult, those early years? PH: Oh, it has. SY: How so? PH: My children tell me is has. (Laughs.) SY: Oh, yeah? They're like, "Mom!" So, what types of things? PH: Oh, dear. Well, I'm frugal. That was one thing that I learned. Make it work. What other things? I don't know. Maybe the way I cook. I think that might have some influence on that. And making food go. When you're first married, you don't have much money no matter where you are. You tend to fall back on those old ideas. SY: Yeah. So, were there a lot of men missing in the town? Did it feel empty? PH: Yes. Quite a few. Quite a few of the boys went. Yeah. SY: And boys you grew up with too. PH: We lost one. Tom. Tom Mayall. We lost him. He was missing in action, finally declared dead. They had a funeral for him here. His body wasn't brought back. They had a funeral here. And then, about two years later, he came to life. He was not dead. He was prisoner. I think he was a prisoner. And he surfaced. SY: Do you remember how that news was spread? Tell me that story. That's a great story. 11 PH: Everybody was excited. Everybody, whether they knew Tom or not, they were excited. SY: And had you known him? PH: I did know him. SY: Yeah. So, do you remember where you were when you heard that he was alive? PH: I don't. I don't remember. SY: Do you remember when he first came back to town? Did he come by train? PH: I don't remember how he came to town. I remember just having him here and his mother being so excited and, oh, she was so excited. She had other boys that were in the service too. SY: What a reprieve! Can you imagine? Every mother who loses a son is like, "Maybe it's a mistake." What an incredible thing for it to have actually been a mistake. PH: Yeah. SY: Wow. You said your uncle and cousins were in the War and they were okay? PH: Yes. SY: Any aftereffects? Things like PTSD? Were they different afterwards? PH: No. SY: No. Did they talk about it or did they not talk about it? PH: They didn't a lot. No. My husband didn't either until shortly before he died. I mean, it wasn't that he wouldn't talk about it. He just didn't talk about it. If you asked him something, he would answer you, but he was not, he just didn't make a big deal out of it. That's the only way I can describe it. SY: But then, before he died, he felt the need to talk about it. PH: He did talk about it more. Yes. He was an avid Marine. He was very proud to be a Marine. The other two cousins, actually I had several, my favorite cousin, he was in and his brother and his father was in. And they met over in Okinawa. We have a picture of them where they met, the three of them in Okinawa. Uncle Ray, I think he was a general at that time. He graduated. He's on the flag up there at Norwich. Are they still there, the flags in the chapel? 12 SY: I think so. PH: And his two sons. He met his two sons over there. That was kind of nice. SY: So, he had been a Norwich graduate as well. PH: Mm hmm. SY: So how did you meet your husband? PH: In college. SY: And where did you go to school? PH: At Castleton. SY: You went to Castleton. You met him at Castleton. After the War? PH: Yes. Oh, yes. SY: What did you study? PH: On campus. SY: No. What did you study? PH: What did I study? Oh, teaching. I was a teacher too and he was a teacher. SY: What subject? Or did you teach elementary? PH: I taught elementary and he taught junior high. Then, another interesting thing that happened to me, I laugh about it now. They had a course. I don't know if you've heard about it. They had a course here in Norwich in aviation, in the summer. You've heard about it? Okay. I can't think of his name, the one that taught. Oh, he was wonderful. All of them were. Anyway, I took that course. One day, it hit me. I said, "I'm the first girl to go to Norwich, to take a course and go to Norwich in our family." It was like, okay, so there was my uncle, my grandfather, and my father and brothers. And then, I had the chance to go. SY: You might have been one of the first girls ever to take a class at Norwich! PH: That's right. SY: So, what year was this and tell me what it was like? 13 PH: I think it was 1950. Oh, we had a wonderful time. It was all teachers. I used the material a lot afterwards. I wish I could think of the man's name. SY: And what were you learning? Were you learning to actually fly? PH: Aviation. Mm hmm. Well, we had an hour, two hours in the simulator, the simulator here. We did a lot with, we learned how they studied air currents and all of that and the principals of flying. Enough so that we could take it back and give the kids an understanding of it. They loved it. I did a unit on it afterwards, the first year afterwards. Oh, it was so much fun because they got so excited to be able to do something so different. We had to make planes. They had to fly. I can't remember how long they had to fly but they did. We had to pass that. That was very important we passed that. SY: So, you had to make planes, like miniature planes, and they had to fly successfully so that you could demonstrate understanding aerodynamics. PH: Right. Right. SY: And you got to be in a flight simulator. PH: You got to be in the flight simulator. We took a trip to Sikorsky in Connecticut where, you know, they were building, they were building, I think, helicopters. Maybe they're doing that now. I'm not sure. Anyway, yeah. We had to fly. It was just a wonderful course. Nobody could ask for a better course. They were working so hard to make it successful. They really just put their all into it. SY: And it was other teachers. So, there were other women in that course. PH: Oh yes. SY: Lots of other women in that course. I wonder if you guys were technically the first group of women to take a course at Norwich. PH: I think we were. SY: Huh. How did that feel? PH: I was excited because I liked the idea of going there. SY: And your whole family had gone there. So, it makes sense that you were like, "What about me!?" Yeah. PH: It was really fun. It was a different experience. I'm trying to think how many were in the class. It must have been, I don't know. There were twenty-five of us, maybe. 14 SY: I wonder how long they ran that course for. PH: Only a couple, three years. They dropped it. I never knew why. I always felt bad that they did. SY: Yeah. PH: Because it was a wonderful teaching tool. SY: And it's exciting that they were also attempting to connect to elementary school teachers, right, and create an aviation curriculum. So, it sounds like you worked for most of your adult life. PH: I taught until I went down to New York. And then, I stopped teaching when I went down there. I substituted. That was all. And then, I decided I wanted to be home when my children came home. So, I stopped working. I didn't stop working. I stopped teaching. (Laughs.) SY: Yep. Let's not make that mistake. PH: No. SY: You were working hard. PH: But anyway, yes. That was it. We were there twenty-five years. Then, we came back here, retired back to this house. Been here since '82. SY: I have some more questions. I'm wondering, when you were a little girl, what you wanted to be when you grew up? What were your dreams of what you were going to do with your life? PH: You're going to laugh. I wanted to be a teacher. SY: I'm not going to laugh! And why did you want to be a teacher? PH: Probably because my mother was. I suspect that was my motivation. SY: Where did your mother get her teaching degree? PH: She got it at Montpelier Seminary. There's a seminary down there. SY: So, that was Vermont College, wasn't it? PH: And then it was Vermont College. Yes. But she did not want to teach in village schools. She only taught in the country schools. She loved it. She absolutely loved it. 15 SY: Why not the village schools? Why the country schools? PH: The children are entirely different, entirely different. They're so appreciative, everything you do. You can't do enough for them. They don't have a lot, you know. They just are super kids. SY: So, she was never your teacher. You were going to the village school and she was teaching in the country. Or did she stop teaching when you were born? PH: The way it happened was the superintendent came to her and he wanted her, because right after she got married, she was teaching down in Braintree. After they were married, she came, they came back here. About five years later, I was born. And then, she wanted to stay home with me. I guess I was four at the time because I was going to be five when school started. The superintendent wanted her to teach and she said, "No. I'm not going back in to teaching until Priscilla goes to school." He said, "Well, maybe I can arrange that." He said, "I can't put her in the village school because the cut-off date is six." And I would have been five. He said, "But maybe I could put her up here in the center across from the library, up on the hill." He said, "Maybe I could put her in there and it won't cause a ruckus. Then you could teach." (Laughs.) Who'd do that? SY: So, is that what happened? PH: That's exactly what happened. I went to school up there for a year. And then, I came back down and I went to second grade in the village school. SY: So, you come from a, your mother loved teaching, it sounds like and you love teaching. I guess, where was your first teaching job and what were your joys and failures? I've taught, so I know there are joys and failures. PH: There are. My first teaching job was right here in Northfield. SY: Where you'd gone to school. PH: Yep. And I had what I'd call the best class that ever went through the Northfield school system. 1957, the class of 1957. And they were, oh, they were just wonderful kids. I've kept in touch with them all these years. I go to their reunions. They're just wonderful. SY: What made them so great? Well, what grade were you teaching? PH: Then, I was teaching sixth grade. I was teaching in an overflow class, an overflow group, because there were so many, they divided them. So, I only had nineteen. Perfect! 16 SY: Oh, because this is the baby boom. This is the post-war boom. That was the first year of that. If they were twelve, then. PH: That's why there was so many and that's why they divided them. I really considered myself lucky. To have such a class. Oh! All just wonderful and they've done very, very well. SY: What types of stuff did you do with them? Do you remember some of the curriculum you did, some of your projects? PH: Oh, dear. We had to stick pretty much to the, you know, one time, it was a Friday afternoon and everybody was like this, you know. And so, I said to them, we had to do, it was a literature, world literature. We had a little unit on that. And so, they were working around the Australian area. So, I said, "How would you like to learn to sing Waltzing Matilda?" Well, they thought that was a good idea and I figured it was good for anything else, right. So, the only way that I could do it was by rote, because I had nothing to do it with. I was singing to them and there were two doors on either side. The superintendent could come in. Of course, anybody could come in either door. So, I'm singing away there to them and then, I'd have them do a part of it and then I'd sing some more and then we'd do all of it. I did it that way. I happened to be singing and I didn't have the voice I have now. I happened to be singing and Walt Gallagher was the superintendent and he came around the corner and I looked up and I saw him and I don't know what, there must have been a look on my face or something. He said, "Oh, I won't bother you now. I'll be back later." (Laughs.) SY: (singing) Waltzing Matilda! Waltzing Matilda! PH: That's exactly what I was doing. It was fun. I loved it. I did. I loved teaching. That's all I can say is I really enjoyed it. SY: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It must have been nice to teach in the school that you had gone to. You probably knew the, there were probably just a couple families and you knew all the families. PH: I knew the families but I also taught with some of the teachers that taught with my dad. SY: That's a strange experience, huh? PH: It was very strange. In fact, the eighth-grade teacher, I mean I always called Ms. Lyon, Ms. Lyon, you know. That's what you call her, I mean. She was very strict. When she was the principal, you know, you were scared to death of her. One day, she said, "Priscilla." And then she paused, she said, "Priscilla, call me Vesta. Don't call me Ms. Lyon anymore." Okay. (Laughs.) 17 SY: Yeah. PH: And it was the hardest thing for me to do. The others, there were a couple of others there, I didn't have any trouble with. But to call her, it was really wicked. Oh. I was so nervous. SY: That's hilarious. PH: I had been afraid of her in school and it sort of carried through. SY: What was your biggest challenge as a teacher? What was the thing that was hardest for you in the classroom? PH: What was the what now? SY: Your biggest challenge as a teacher. What was hardest for you in the classroom? PH: Discipline. SY: Yeah. What the expectation then of how you were supposed to discipline kids? PH: Well, of course you didn't harm. I wouldn't think of hitting them. No way. But, it just, I don't know, I never had that much trouble with it really. I had one incident and he's a graduate of Norwich. No names. He was a challenge personified, really. I knew I was going to get him. The others teachers had so much trouble with him and I determined, right at the beginning, I determined, "I'm going to win this child over." So, he came in. He did a couple of things but he came in one day and, uh, I don't know what he did. Oh. Yes. I had already put his desk down beside mine. I was headed this way and he was headed this way. So, he was sitting there for several things he had done and then, I don't know what he did now. I can't remember. I sat down and I put the children to work. I sat down and I wrote and I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I put it in an envelope. And then, I put his mother's name on it and I put it on the corner of his desk. This is in the morning. He's got to look at this until lunch time. So, I guess you'd call it torture. I don't know. He sat there and looked at it. So, he went home. When he came back, I said, "Did you give your mother the note?" He said, "I threw it on the table as I was leaving." I said to him, "Well, that means you've got to wait all afternoon to find out the result. That's going to make it even worse. Isn't it?" And so, that was that. The next morning, I went in. He's sitting at his desk. Now, I went to school about 7:30. Early. I did my best work with planning in the morning. I went in. There sits Gary. I said, "Did you get locked in last night?" He said, "No." He said, "The janitor let me in this morning." I said, "Why are you here so early?" He said, "I just had to tell you," he said, "I didn't know how much you cared about me." Because in the note, I had written, "It's only because I care so much about so much about, that I really want him to do well. Seventh grade is very important because it will be the start of his really having to buckle down in high school and learn to do well. I 18 know he can do it but he's doing too much extracurricular fooling around." He said, "Nobody's ever liked me in school." SY: What a success that is! What a success! PH: It really was. I consider it the biggest success I had in all my teaching. I had written on the bottom to ask his mother to please come in to see me. She came in and we talked about it. She said, "What can I do? What can I do to help this along?" I said, "Well, I don't know." I said, "He's very fond of his football equipment." And so, she took his football equipment away from him and told him he couldn't have it back until I wrote a note saying that it was possible. So, I let him go about six weeks. I was going to win this one. Finally, one day, I sat down and I wrote a note. Put it on his desk. He took it home. The next morning, I came in, same time, there sits Gary, full football uniform on, hat, all this stuff they wear, ball under his arm. SY: That's very sweet. PH: Is that a wonderful story? I love it. I just love it. SY: And how did he end up doing? PH: All I can say is he now, I think he's the registrar of one of the biggest colleges in the country. SY: Look at that! He did all right, that kid! PH: I wish I could tell you his name, but I shouldn't. SY: No. Oh, you shouldn't. That's a very sweet story. PH: Oh, it was wonderful. I was so pleased. He was so cute. After I left teaching, he even wrote me. He would write me letters. He was one of the ones, when we had the, when I had the units on aviation, he really got into it. He did so well on that. He really did. He was interested and excited about it. I remember him probably being the most excited than any of them. SY: It sounds like you were a wonderful teacher. PH: Oh, I don't know about that. We did have a good time. We had a good time. Hopefully, they learned. SY: Were you sad when you were moving to New York, to leave teaching at the village school? Did you teach? PH: I did. I was. Yeah. 19 SY: Did you have a send-off when you left? PH: No. Not really. Not really. SY: So, why and you lived in Northfield your whole life so you must have been sad about leaving Northfield or were you excited about moving somewhere else? What was the, I assume your husband got a job. PH: I was excited about going down there. I just wanted to do something, you know, outside. I knew I could always come back. I liked New York. I really did. Teaching was different. SY: How was it different? PH: I had, I was called in to teach first grade one day and I was pregnant with my youngest son. And so, I kind of hesitated but I said, "Okay." I would go in. I had this little kid who, I had put them all to work and when you go in, you don't have any lesson plans and you've got to figure out something quick. You've taught school. You know. So, I worked on that and then, I was walking up the aisle, between the, of course, the seats were all together. I was walking up the aisle and this little kid stuck his foot out, tripped me and I just barely, just barely held myself up and got out of it. I got home that night. I said to Stanley, "That's it. No more. Not now." SY: What was, you know what? I'm just realizing your chair is kind of squeaky. I'm wondering if maybe we should switch chairs because the squeak is coming up. PH: Is it? SY: Do you think this chair is less squeaky? PH: Could be. SY: Let's try. We'll just move my chair over and hope it's a little less squeaky. Trade. PH: This one's more solid. SY: That's more solid? Okay. Then let's do that one. There we go. So, what was it like to live in Huntington after having lived in Northfield? How was life different? PH: We lived in Northport but he taught in Huntington. It was different but I had very nice neighbors. That made it, you know. SY: And it was suburb then, right? 20 PH: Yes. We even had some potato fields. SY: Really? PH: Yes! SY: Wow! PH: Not now. SY: I was trying to figure out where Huntington is. PH: North Shore. SY: North Shore. And where's Levittown? PH: Levittown is closer to the city. SY: Closer to the city. PH: And it's in the middle. SY: But these were, like, some of the early post-War suburbs, right? PH: Mm hmm. SY: Were all the houses kind of alike? Were they designed neighborhoods or were they older than that? PH: No. You know, Huntington was, Northport especially, they had a lot of cottages out there. People went out there in the summer. A lot of them were converted cottages. Now, they're McMansions. SY: Of course. Yeah. PH: It's entirely different. Even the house that we had, it was built in the fifties. When I go by, I can't believe it. They just sold it so I was able to look at the pictures of the inside and they've done some beautiful work in there. Good ideas. No. They're not side by side really. Now, it's condos and big senior units and things like that. SY: So, how did you like being a mom? PH: Oh, I loved being a mom. SY: You did? Some people like staying at home with their kids and some people don't. You liked it. 21 PH: I did. SY: You really like kids, it sounds like. PH: I do. SY: How many kids do you have? PH: Pardon me? SY: How many kids do you have? PH: Three. SY: Three. Okay. Are they still living out on the island or are they scattered? PH: They are. They're all down there. SY: That's good. So, you can spend winters down there with them. PH: Right. I said, "We left and they didn't." SY: Yep. What made you and your husband decide to retire back up here? PH: After my mother passed away, father passed in '60, after my mother passed away in '75, the house was ours. We'd come every summer, just doing the work that had to be done to keep it up. Other than that, we closed it. He was from Vermont. He was from Calais and I was from Northfield. It was just a given to do this. Get back to where it's quieter and less expensive to live. Right now, it's horrendous to live down there. Awful. SY: Were any of your old friends still around when you came back? Did you still feel like you knew people? PH: Oh, yeah. SY: So, it was easy to slip right back in. PH: Right. Oh, yes. No problem. Between relatives and friends, it was easy. SY: Yeah. PH: That's why I say I have the best of both worlds because I go down there for six months and I see all my friends down there and then I come up here and I have all my friends up here. 22 SY: So, of course, Northfield has changed over the course of your life but I bet there's also ways in which its stayed the same. I'm wondering your thoughts about that, ways it's different and ways it's similar. PH: Well, if you take this street, for instance, every house on this street, except for the one's that painted purple, every house is the same as it was. Off this here, we now have another street off it. That wasn't there. It wasn't spruces. It was grove up there of fir trees. It was gorgeous. They took them down. SY: Oh, that's sad. PH: It is. The Common, the Common down there has changed. And, of course, Norwich has changed. That's what we watched. SY: How have you seen Norwich change? PH: Oh, my goodness! As the buildings go up, it's just amazing. And all we ever had was the, you know, Plumley. SY: The armory. PH: Couldn't think of it. Yes. Plumley. But now they have Kreitzberg. It's just amazing. It's amazing what they've done. And that's all been since, except for the building up on the Quad, all these other new buildings have all been built since the '50s. SY: Yeah. Do you remember how you felt when you heard that girls were going to be allowed to come to Norwich? PH: Oh, that was great! Yeah. I thought it was great. Nothing wrong with that. And I was so glad when we had a girl cadet colonel. I was excited. Didn't know her but I was excited. SY: Yeah. What about it excited you? PH: Oh, I just thought it was wonderful. She did so well that she could do that. SY: Yeah. PH: She had to go over some hard bumps probably to get there. SY: I would imagine. For sure. Yeah. PH: That's, you know, the Common and Norwich, that's basically the changes that have been made around here. Not too many. 23 SY: No. I guess not too many. And, I guess, the house hasn't changed that much. No. PH: No. We haven't changed it. I had the kitchen redid. We made the kitchen larger. There was a sunporch out there and a little pantry. We put that window in which was just like this window. Did that when we first came back. Other than that, no. We haven't changed it much. I like a kitchen where people can sit when you're cooking and you can talk to them. SY: Who doesn't? That's what a kitchen is for. PH: That's right. SY: That's what a kitchen's for. I wonder if you have any last thoughts or reflections about Northfield, about Norwich, about I don't know, last thoughts. You're at this point where you're probably looking back on your life and thinking about it in some ways and, I don't know, what are you proudest of? Are there things that you regret? PH: Hmm. SY: That's a hard one. PH: That's a hard one. Yeah. That's a hard one. I probably do but I can't think of. SY: But mostly, it sounds like you feel pretty good. PH: Oh, I do. I do. SY: Yeah. PH: I don't have much to, I don't have anything to be upset about or sorry. Just getting older. SY: Yeah. PH: I said, "I don't mind." My son's going to be 60. I said, "Gee, I didn't mind when I was 60. That was a good age." I said, "70 wasn't bad either but 80 has been…" (Laughs.) SY: Yeah. It's been hard. Yeah. PH: Awful. SY: Really? 24 PH: Yeah. SY: Yeah. PH: But oh well. It's all a part of it. SY: It's part of the process. PH: It's part of the process. SY: Yeah. Exactly. PH: Nothing you can do about it. SY: No. There's nothing you can do about it. PH: I have such a marvelous support group here. SY: Yeah? Tell me about it. PH: Oh. I'm so lucky. I mean, everybody looks out for me. When I go away, of course, you see my one cat has been roaming around. Got a couple of those, another one, I mean. I have a cat sitter who comes in and lives here. He's very good. He just looks out for the cats. They like him I think better than they do me now. (Laughs.) That's what I tell him. He looks out for me. I get phone calls. "Anything you need at the store?" I am going to have a woman that I go to the store with because I don't have the stamina now to lift everything and put it in and do all of that so. She'll help me with that. At the end of the street, I have Bill Lyon, who, anything goes wrong, he's right here, fixes it. I had a leak in the basement down here along the edge. I have a friend that, her husband's an engineer and she said, "Oh, he should look at that. He can tell you what to do." So, he came down and looked at it. He said, "It's really bad. It's going to cost about $3,000 to fix that." And I go, "Okay." I'm thinking, "Oh, gosh!" Then, Bill said, "Let me take a look at it." He takes a look at it. The next thing I know, the next morning, I wake up and I hear pound, pound, pound. What is that? I go around and I look and he's down there. He's working on it. He's fixing it. He fixed it! All fixed. SY: They're taking good care of you. PH: Yeah. SY: Yeah. I know another question I have – town/gown relations. How have you seen the relationship between Norwich and the town change over time? PH: Very good question. Very good question, because there's always been, the only word I can use is jealousy, a bit of jealousy of Norwich. I always say, "If it wasn't 25 for Norwich, Northfield would be Bethel." You know Bethel? Northfield would be Bethel! I said, "I don't know how you can say that because, I mean, yes, they've taken a lot of the houses over here, down." They've done things that are maybe not to everybody's liking but the good they do. Helping with the EMTs. There's just so many things that they are responsible for, helping with the police department, the money they give for that. Sure, granted, they use them. I think people resent the fact that there's no tax and nothing coming in to the tax indecipherable, but it's a college. SY: Did the cadets also have a reputation for being kind of wild at different points in time? PH: Yes. SY: Carousing in town. PH: But it depends who you ask, you know. It really does. They were boys! (Laughs.) They would do some things some times. I don't know if you ever notice the centennial stairs had chips on them. Those chips were made, if I can remember, those chips were made, I believe, I'm going to say 1950 but give it a couple years either way. They did things like that. They rolled a cannonball down those stairs. SY: Oh my. PH: That was bad. SY: Wow. PH: It was bad but it's kind of funny now. SY: Do you remember when all the horses, during the War, all the horses left at one point, didn't they? Do you remember that? Visually, what was it like? How did the leave? PH: They must have put them on a train. Must have. SY: You didn't see it? PH: I didn't see that. That was right after the ASTP left, about that same time, '40s that they left. Oh, I know what I wanted to show you. SY: Okay. I'm ready. I won't go anywhere. I'll stay right here. PH: Oh. I'm sorry. Are we still working? SY: No. No. Is it something that should be on tape or not on tape? 26 PH: Not on tape. I don't think so. It's about the drum. SY: Oh. PH: I mentioned the drum. SY: And where does the drum come from again? PH: Will that be all right? SY: Yeah. Okay. So, tell me again about William Holden. PH: He was in Gettysburg. He came back here to Northfield. He was a very active man. It will tell you some of this in there. No. Maybe it won't. He ended up having a farm up on 12A. He was in the slate business with my other grandfather that lived on Dole Hill. That's where that comes from. I forgot how hold he was when he went into the Corp. Anyway, he was there for the duration of that. Then, he came back. He did a lot of things but he was a great part of the town business, things that went on. I believe he was also in the legislature. He just kind of had his hand in every pot. SY: Did you hear stories about him growing up? PH: Let's see. I was pretty young when he died. I can just barely remember him. SY: This is Holden or Dole? PH: Holden. SY: Holden. So, your grandfather you remember? PH: Yes. SY: Yes. PH: Well, not very well. Grandfather Dole, no not very well because died in, actually I can't remember him. He died in '29 and I was born in '31. SY: Okay. So, you never met him. PH: Never met him. SY: Yeah. 27 PH: No. I just know stories about him. Change the subject here, there's a book. There are two journals, big fat books like this. You know them. I think they go from 1885 to – SY: This is Norwich history? PH: Yeah. SY: The Ellis? Ellis? Yeah. PH: Okay? All right. It tells you about Dole. SY: About Dole? Yeah. I actually wonder about your father too. Do you know what his experiences were like at Norwich as a cadet and did he enter the service afterwards? PH: I could tell you a story. SY: Yeah. Tell me a story. PH: When he was at Norwich, he used to go home on the weekend. You could go home on the weekend. His mother made all sorts of goodies, little pies, cakes, and everything. He'd come down and he'd sell them to the cadets. There's stories about him coming back with great big boxes of goodies. They'd all be waiting for him when he got there. SY: He was a little entrepreneur. PH: Yes. He was. SY: Do you also remember, after the War, when married Norwich students were living in this sort of family housing? Do you remember that? PH: Mm hmm. SY: And it was, I guess it was over by the intersection with Route - PH: It's on 12A. SY: Yeah. Do you remember that? PH: Mm hmm. SY: What was that like? 28 PH: They were little duplex houses. There was one bedroom, one living room, sort of a dining room, and the kitchen was off that. That's what they were, pretty crude, but livable. That's where, they lived there. A lot of professors lived there too. SY: Yeah. PH: For housing. SY: For housing. People were desperate for housing after the War. Well, I don't think I have any other questions. That was great. Then, this article about the drum, where was this from? What newspaper? PH: Okay. I don't know. See, my grandmother, great-grandmother, W.W.'s wife, so that's in the late 1800s, she would take anything that was happening in the paper about them. See, even down here, there's something, I think. Isn't there? SY: Yeah. PH: Right here. Were they celebrating a – SY: Yeah. PH: She had a book, a medical book and I wish I had it downstairs. She would paste articles in it. So, I don't know whether that came from a Vermont paper or, doesn't look like a Northfield paper. SY: No. It doesn't. I don't know. Well, I'll hand it over and we'll see if we can figure it out. PH: I figured it's documentation. As you read it, you'll see, because they never had anything to know. SY: Anything about the drum. PH: Anything about the drum. SY: Your family donated it but they don't know anything about it. PH: W.W. donated it. SY: I'll go find out what the deal is with it. PH: I'd love to know when you find out. SY: I will. 29 PH: Because I've never known. I mentioned it once when I was up there and they didn't have a clue. SY: There's a new registrar. He's very conscientious. End of Recording

Abstrak Karya sastra merupakan miniatur dari dunia nyata, dimana sebuah karya sastra biasanya mengungkap beberapa masalah yang berkaitan dengan makhluk hidup termasuk isu-isu tentang hubungan manusia dengan alam. Manusia lebih cenderung melakukan kerusakan pada lingkungan daripada menjaganya, hal ini menyebabkan kehancuran bumi beserta isinya. Hal ini tergambar pada novel The Road karya McCarthy dimana lingkungan yang menjadi setting utamanya hancur berantakan. Lansekapnya tertutup oleh abu yang berterbangan. Dan ketika salju turun, ia berwarna abu-abu. Langitnya juga terlihat gelap. Oleh sebab itu, ada beberapa masalah yang berhubungan dengan kehancuran bumi yang tergambar pada novel yang kemudian memunculkan dua dasar pertanyaan (1) bagaimana kehancuran bumi digambarkan dalam novel The Road karya McCarthy? Dan (2) bagaimana kehancuran bumi memberikan dampak terhadap karakter utama dalam novel The Road karya McCarthy?. Untuk melihat masalah ini perlu teori yang pas yang biasa disebut ecocriticism. Ecocriticism melihat kehancuran bumi sebagai hasil dari tingkah laku manusia terhadap lingkungan misalnya: eksploitasi dan colonialisasi. Seperti yang dikatakan Lawrence Buell bahwa kondisi lingkungan itu ditentukan oleh manusia. Ecocriticism adalah suatu istilah yang berada dibawah payung postcolonialism dimana seorang postcolonialist meyakini bahwa kolonialisasi mempunyai campur tangan dalam penghancuran bumi. Para penjajah merasa percaya diri untuk mengeksploitasi bumi karena dianugrahi kekuatan oleh modernism. Untuk mendapatkan analisis yang jelas, skripsi ini menggunakan metode descriptive quality dimana kualitas data menjadi poin utama daripada jumlah data. Jadi, terlihat jelas bahwa kehancuran bumi terjadi diseluruh lapisan lingkungan; yaitu atmosfer, permukaan tanah, dan laut. Seluruh atmosfer dipenuhi oleh abu, debu dan karbon, tanahnya terkikis, tandus dan gundul, dan lautnya berubah menjadi abu-abu. Kehancuran bumi ini juga memberikan kesuraman tersendiri kepada tokoh si bapak dan si anak. Mereka harus melalui hidup yang keras, susah untuk bernafas, susah untuk menemukan sesuatu yang bisa dimakan dan secara mental mereka selalu takut akan ancaman-ancaman dari kehancuran bumi. Kata Kunci: kehancuran bumi, ecocriticism, postcolonialism, modernism. Abstract Literary work is a miniature of larger world or reality, whereas a literary work reveals some problems related to humans being including issues of human relationships with the environment. Humans tend to do damage to the environment rather than maintaining it, thus it causes devastation of earth. It is reflected in McCarthy's the road where the environment is devastated. The landscape save the ash on the wind, and when the snow falls, it is gray. The sky is also dark. Therefore, there are some problems of knowledge about how the devastation of earth portrays in the novel, which are delivered to two main questions of (1) How is devastation of earth depicted in Cormac McCarthy's The Road? and (2) How does devastation of earth give impacts to the main characters in Cormac McCarthy's The Road?. In case to observe these problems, it needs a suitable theory which called ecocriticism. Ecocriticism sees the devastation of earth as the result of humans' behaviour such as exploitation and colonialism of the environment, as Lawrence Buell says that the condition of the environment is determined by humans. Ecocriticism is under umbrella term of postcolonialism in which postcolonilist believes that colonization has intervention in devastating the earth. Colonizer is encouraged to exploit the nature because of power that is given by modernism. To get a clear analysis, this thesis uses descriptive quality method; it means the quality of the data becomes the reference to work rather than the quantity of the data. Thus, it is seen clearly that devastation of earth happened in the whole layers of environment; atmosphere, land and sea. The atmosphere is occupied by ash, dust and carbon, the land has eroded and barren and the sea have changed into gray. This devastation also gives a misery to the father and the son as the main characters. They have to undergo hard life; hard to breathe, hard to find food and mentally they are haunted by the devastated earth's threatens. Keywords: devastation of earth, ecocriticism, postcolonialism, modernism. INTRODUCTION Humans often feel indifferent toward nature. For them, nature is something considerably as a 'mystic' thing, when it goes right, humans forget it, when it goes wrong, they worry it. People tend to prefer natural environments more than built environments, and built environments with water, trees, and other vegetation more than built environments without such features (Kaplan & Kaplan, 1989). On the other word, humans tend to permit the nature walks down by itself. They seem to just let it flow without thinking how to keep and maintenance the nature. The study of humans' relation with nature which is known as ecology was begun since years ago when humans lived in harmony with the nature. However, in line with development the nature also changes. Unfortunately, this natural changes brings devastation on earth, as Donald Hughes says that looking back to our historical ecology, Humans have related in multiple ways to the Earth's systems; some of these ways promise a sustainable balance with them, while others are destructive (Hughes, 2001: 269). Historically, through devastation of earth Humans have made major changes in their environments. This is happened almost in the whole surface, as Hughes says that devastation of earth has happened in every historical period and in every part of the inhabited Earth (2001: 1). In order to observe those processes of change that affect the relationship, ecologist studies the mutual effects that other species, natural forces, and cycles have on humans, and the actions of humans that affect the web of connections with non-human organisms and entities (id. at 4.). This ecologist's study shows that devastation of earth is the result of humans' behaviour toward environment. This bad behaviour has changed the environment that will bring devastation to the humans themselves. Humans seemingly don't care of the environment. Severity, humans tend to be more destructive. It forces some Ecocritics who concern in literary study and environment in late nineteenth criticized humans' behaviour toward nature. This criticises show how important avoiding that kind of behaviour toward nature which brings devastation of earth merely, it signed that the study of literature which related to the environment has to be discussed. There were in fact some isolated calls for an ecologically oriented criticism during the 1970s (Rigby, vol 2: 2). However, it was not until the end of the twentieth century that the study of literature and the environment was finally recognized as 'a subject on the rise'. In studying of literature, humans ordinarily focus on the relation between humans and others (society) or between humans and themselves (psychology), whereas, the relation between humans and environment actually is tightly connected. Unfortunately, the study of literature which related to the earth was often forgotten, whereas, the study of literature which related to the environment is greatly important. The study of environment is not merely observing of the nature or nonhumans aspect but it tends to study the relation among nature, earth and the humans themselves. Human actually is a part of environmental system, and therefore the environment has the crucial role in humans life in which it is become the main point of literary study. In some respects, it is perhaps not surprising that the study of literary texts should be coupled with such forgetfulness of the earth. Thus it is needed a study of humans' relation and environment. The study of literature and environment got a full attention when modern era begun to destruct the environment. Since last decade ago, especially years ago, humans consciously realized the impacts of their behaviour toward nature, moreover when they become crazier of invention, exploration and exploitation of the nature. Surely, this impact is indirectly causing ecological changes. However, actually what people do about their ecology depend on what they think about themselves in relation to things around them. Human ecology is deeply conditioned by beliefs about our nature and destiny (White 1996, 6). It can be imagined when humans were only thinking about themselves and forgetting the nature or they were just considering their needs without considering the nature needs, it can be ascertained that the nature will vanish and be extinct. This idea or thought about indifference toward nature is criticized by the Ecocritics. Ecocriticism maintains that literature may be approached in a way that examines humans as part of an ecosystem; they are neither master nor slave to it, but simply one part of an intricate system. Literature and environment truly can't be separated each other. Moreover, Lawrence Buell argues in his book The Truth of Ecology as quoted by Dana Philip that literature would be environmental. It would evoke the natural world through verbal surrogates, and would thereby attempt to bond the reader to the world as well as to discourse (Philip, 2003: 7). It can be assumed that through the literary work, the reader will be brought to the environmental world and devastation of earth. Indirectly, literature causes the reader's interpretation of the environment. Thus, it is important to understand the relation between humans and environment through literary work. It needs to notice that ecology is not a slush fund of fact, value, and metaphor, but a less than fully coherent field with a very checkered past and a fairly uncertain future (Philip, 2003: 45). By understanding the relation between humans and environment, it is beneficial to determine the act effectively on the impact of natural destruction and to integrate knowledge and actions. The study of literature and environment works in tandem in determining humans' perception and interpretation toward nature. As Lawrence Buell says that literature and environment studies must make their case for the indispensableness of physical environment as a shaping force in human art and experience, and how such an aesthetic works (2001: 9). It can be assumed that environmental interpretation is a humanistic inquiry. In other word, what people think about nature, and how they have expressed those ideas is what people interpret of the nature. Generally what people expressed the idea of the nature is a Realistic depiction of the world. Thus, it needs a tool to see this depiction. Surely Ecocriticism is a proper tool to see the depiction of the world. Ecocriticism is the most suitable binoculars to telescoped ecological issue and ecological changes in such literary work, as Sheryl Glotfelty (1996: xviii) says that Ecocriticism is the study of the relationship between literature and the physical environment, Ecocriticism takes an earth-centered approach to literary studies. Only Ecocriticicism observes the relation between humans and nonhumans aspects. What Ecocritics do, in short, is attempting to discover nature as absence, silence in texts, and construe environmental representation as a relevant category of literary (Buell, 2005: 30). Ecocriticism encourages the changing of canonisation through entering literary works which carry up natural issue. Ecocriticism ecologically oriented critique of the way in which Nature is constructed in certain canonical texts. Environmental literature constitutes the third way in which Ecocriticism recasts the canon. According to Lawrence Buell (1995, 7-8), an environmentally oriented work should display some characteristics; first, the nonhuman environment is present not merely as a framing device but as a presence that begins to suggest that human history is implicated in natural history. Second, the human interest is not understood to be the only legitimate interest. Third, Human accountability to the environment is part of the text's ethical framework. The last, some sense of the environment as a process rather than as a constant or a given is at least implicit in the text. In such literary work; Cormac McCarthy's The Road the nature as the setting represents ecological changes. Surely, this change causes devastation of earth. Nothing is more miserable on earth but devastation. The world which is the closest place we live at is not convenient again when it was devastated. Thus, literary and environment has interrelation that cannot be separated. Then, it is important to analyze such literary work through Ecocriticism. Ecological issue commonly represented by the presence of natural thing such as; tree, land and also circumstance in the novel which it become the setting. In other word, ecological issue become a centre point of setting. One of great writers in narrating the setting is Cormac McCarthy. Not only known as a king of the setting, McCarthy also has known as famous environmental setting as Addy Haddock (a writer of McCarthy's bibliography) says that his ability to provide eloquent descriptions with smoothly rolling darker undertones and poetically dismal nuances makes him become a writer with powerful setting. Thus, McCarthy is a right author referenced as a study of Ecocriticism. Indirectly, McCarthy's proficient is caused by his settled at a barn near Louisville, Tennessee. All the stones he gathered, all the wood he cut and kiln dried by himself to renovate his small house. Seemingly, McCarthy's life is not far away from the nature. Years later, after marrying fellow student Lee Holleman in 1961, he and she moved to a shack with no heat and running water in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains outside of Knoxville. These experiences of life sharpen his idea toward nature. McCarthy reveals that he is not a fan of authors who do not deal with issues of life and death; it can be assumed that his writing tends to be explored issues of life including devastation of earth. Recalling blithely the months he spent without electricity in a house in Tennessee. Without money, and he had run out of toothpaste and he was wondering what to do when he went to the mailbox and there was a free sample. It made him become more sensitive facing the nature and more respect it. In 2006, McCarthy writes The Road that grants him a change to be interviewed by Oprah Winfrey. Surely, this interview related to his writing especially devastation of earth and won Pulitzer Prize for fiction. McCarthy told Winfrey that related several stories illustrating the degree of outright poverty he endured at times during his career as a writer. He also states that his novel; The Road inspired when he was standing at the window of a hotel in the middle of the night, his son asleep nearby, he started to imagine what El Paso might look like 50 or 100 years in the future. He just had this image of these fires up on the hill. It shows the condition of the nature at the time which the hill was fired up. McCarthy can be categorized as a weird person. People usually gathered with other people who have same hobby or pleasure. However, it doesn't apply for McCarthy. As a writer, he doesn't like to gather with other writer. He would rather hang out with physicists or scientist than other writer. He does not know any writers and much prefers the company of scientists. No doubt if his knowledge of nature is rich. His knowledge of the natural world is vast and includes many of the Latin names of birds and animals. His pleasure gathering with physicists and scientist caused by his interest in science and environment, by absorbing the intelligence scientists, he realizes that in 100 years the human race won't even be recognizable. For him, what physicists did in the 20th century was one of the extraordinary flowerings ever in the human enterprise, which would much prefer to befriend a scientist than another writer. Most of McCarthy's novels are portraying about life or reality which many of them associated to ecological issue. In 1985, Blood Meridian was published. Blood Meridian portrays the desolate and indifferent 1850s Texas-Mexico borderlands. The extreme violence which takes place comments implicitly on both the environment and human nature. The novel's full title- Blood Meridian, or The Evening Redness In The West- is indicative of the novel's portrayal of the environment. A relationship between location, nature and violence is created in the symbolism of the sun as a "blood meridian". To call McCarthy's environments as constructed in Blood Meridian simply violent is an unsatisfactory conclusion. What is more appropriate and evident in the text is that man is inherently violent and the indifference of nature to this creates an amoral setting. In 1979, McCarthy published his fourth novel, Suttree. In short, Suttree tells the reader about a man named Cornelius Suttree, a fisherman, disillusioned scholar, alcoholic, nihilist, existentialist and transcendentalist. The attention to detail identified earlier in Suttree is telling in terms of his relationship with his environment. Generally, to an Ecocritical reading Suttree shows that, stripped of societal anthropocentrism, man is forced to reassess his relationship with nature. It could be said that McCarthy's prose style is often atavistic (anti-civilization, anti-materialism, anti-industrialism, anti-progress and pro-Nature) in that it both reflects natural processes and often appears primitive, stripped of culture. In 1973, Child of God was published. It was inspired by actual events in Sevier County. Child of God begins with Lester Ballard's dispossession from his parent's house. McCarthy's description of Ballard's lone nomadic wandering after he inadvertently burns down his squat uses the same free indirect discourse. Child of God can also be described as an existential text, particularly for the authenticity of its protagonist. Lester Ballard's atavistic tendencies bring him closer to an animalistic level. From those all of McCarthy's novels, The Road which was published in 2006 by Vintage book publisher is the most representative novel which is related to the study of Ecocriticism. The novel is generally thick of environments' issue. The issue for instance is the fire of woods that happened along the country which give the reader an image of burned land, ash and dust everywhere and so on. Because of this reason, the writer felt that The Road is interested to be analyzed through ecological critics. In short, the novel portrays a journey of father and son as the main character in a burned land in America. The issue of devastation of earth becomes the centre point of interest which grasps the whole setting of the novel. The Road brings the readers onto 'the future' in as much as it is set in a time after an ambiguous 'end' has occurred and society has collapsed. The reverse of the most recent reissue claims that it is the first great masterpiece of the globally warmed generation. It is also the first of McCarthy's novels to have provoked Ecocritical study. This wide appeal to the novel relies strongly on its environmental themes. The use of allusion to genre and form elsewhere in McCarthy's novels can be said to universalise his appeal but in The Road the key concern is the 21st century's most immediate global problem; the irrevocable damage global industrial capitalism is doing to our environment. It is difficult to read The Road without feeling the overwhelming cumulative force of the novel's desolation, and this desolation is most prominently present in the landscapes McCarthy portrays. The setting is almost entirely bereft of life; the little that is found is often malign humanity. The Road greatly represents a study of Ecocriticism. It portrays the colourless world because of devastation of earth. This devastation issue is common object of the Ecocriticism study. The Road continually reminds us of the bleakness of the landscape in the earth. As readers, we only experience bright colours through the characters' dreams or memories, if someone happens to bruise or bleed, or through fire or flare guns. The rest of the time we see a gray ash covering the landscape. As a reality, our landscape is actually green and natural. However, The Road shows the possibility of devastation of earth when humans did devastation to the nature and they can't live in harmony with the nature. Therefore, there is no doubt that The Road becomes the most influencing novel toward environment. It proves from the acclaim written in the novel by George Monbiot, an environmental campaigner that says "It could be the most important environmental book ever. It is a thought experiment that imagines a world without a biosphere, and shows that everything we value depends on the ecosystem." According to the brief story in background of the study that gives perception about the devastation of earth in the novel, it appears two questions as the problems: 1. How is devastation of earth depicted in Cormac McCarthy's The Road? 2. How does devastation of earth give impacts to the main characters in Cormac McCarthy's The Road? METHOD The used method is descriptive quality; it means the quality of the data becomes the reference to work rather than the quantity of the data. Besides, a technique is needed to understand the data. Technique of interpretation must be used to interpret and analyze the data. Through interpretation the analysis can be worked. Interpretation is a crucial step that has to do before analyzing the data. Then, extrinsic approach is used as an approach toward the analysis in which environment belongs to it. According to method above, the first thing that has to do is collecting data. In collecting data this research focuses on reading and documentation. Reading novel. In this step, novel becomes the object of the research. The novel is entitled The Road, written by Cormac McCarthy. To collect the correctly data, it needs reading more than once, because to get interpretation, it needs understanding all contents completely with all possibilities both intrinsically and extrinsically. Inventorying data. This step is collecting data through noting the quotations related to the statement of the problems and objectives of the study, it is including in words, sentences, and discourse that can represent devastation of earth in Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Thus, all data that will be analyzed are started and sourced through the novel's contents. Classification data. It is appropriate to the statements of the problems about devastation of earth in Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Tabling the data. It is to simplify reading the data and classify data that is used in the analysis for the readers. Continuously, the selected data or the collected data, which are related to the statements of the problems and the objectives, are analyzed through Ecocriticism in depicting the devastation of earth and its impacts to the main characters in Cormac McCarthy's The Road. MODERNISM The word "modern" closely means to up-to-date, abreast of the times, and going beyond the past in more than a temporally or chronologically literal sense (Greenberg, 1979; 2). Marshall Breman as quoted Jan Rada defines modernism as a trend of thought that affirms the power of human being to create, improve, and reshape their environment, with the aid of scientific knowledge technology and practical experimentation (2008; 6). Breman then argues that modernism is as any attempt by modern men and women to become subjects as well as objects of modernization, to be modern is to find ourselves in an environment that promises us adventure, power, joy, growth, transformation of ourselves and the world-and, at the same time, that threatens to destroy everything we have, everything we know, everything we are (Berman, 1982; 5; 14). The development of modernism emerged two poles that confront each other; science and technology and natural degradation. As Helena J. Keler explanation that the image of 'creative destruction' is very important to understanding modernity precisely because it derived from the particular dilemmas that faced the implementation of the modernist project. This destruction of a holistic universe in the modern era shatters the conception of human beings and societies as total entities, instead inaugurating an era characterized by a never-ending process of internal ruptures and fragmentations within itself (Keler, 2005: 4). According to Horkheimer and Adorno as quoted by Helena, modern capitalist society is engaged in a pattern of domination: the domination of nature by human beings, domination of nature within human beings, and this system of domination is driven by fear of the human and nonhuman unknown the Other (Keler, 2005: 3). Movement of modernism manifests itself in the self-destructive nature of symbolism: when pushed to its logical extreme, the symbolist aesthetic starts to forgo any notion of an organic, necessary relationship between signifier and signified, and simply imposes a particular motif as an arbitrary symbol of something else (Hutchinson, 2011; 58). Modernism often demonstrates the destructive rather than constructive nature. Modernists argue that the ecologically destructive projects are not viable because of climate change but modernism movement (Johnston, 2012: 207). Specifically, Barbara Rose Johnston states that Human conduct that contributes to the destruction of our ecological balance. Such interpretations of environmental change, however, can have undesirable effect of deflecting responsibility, since blame is placed on a cycle of time about which a person can do nothing (Johnston, 2012: 212). Global environmental change, which spans natural sciences, policy and development studies, is currently experiencing its first waves. Perhaps it is time to recognize that already some people are getting their feet wet. On what criteria should one decide to retreat to higher ground or stick it out unmoved until the tide turns. Modernism challenges the modern project of understanding global environmental change and doing something about it when it causes problems (Blaikie, 1996: 81). According to Piers M. Blaikie, modernism First, it challenges all embracing world views or 'meta narratives' which tend to be highly teleological and assume the validity of their underlying assumptions and their claims. Thus, the role of environmental scientists in policy making as 'talking truth to power' and as the only rational and legitimate brokers between the 'real' environment and the rest of us, is rejected. Second, it challenges the tendency that is more pronounced in areas of global environmental change where the local hands on experience of the environment (land degradation, desertification and biodiversity). Third, it challenged that reality is socially constructed. An epistemology which builds models of society and environment with causal connections is challenged by one which is constituted as a series of descriptive accounts according to different actors' perceptions (Blaikie, 1996: 81). Modernism encourages people and countries to over-exploit natural resources, and contribute to reductions in spending on social and environmental welfare (Huckle, 1999: 36). Moreover, environmental reductions being blamed on the impact of foreign cultural domination this has allegedly eroded and damaged the 'essential harmony' between humans and nature (Mawdsley, 2001: 96). Evernden contends that the second instrumental vision of control and domination over nature is the historical product of modernity, more specifically of Renaissance, when a new mode of knowledge, based on reason and experimentation replaced the medieval search for knowledge as contemplation and wisdom (1992). This argument is supported that Modernity is thus responsible for creating Nature by abstracting from nature, and with it a whole history of conquest and domination comes to be enacted. In the words of C. S. Lewis: "We reduce things to mere Nature in order that we may "conquer" them. We are always conquering Nature because "Nature" is the name for what we have, to some extent, conquered" (Lewis, 1978: 42). Latest, Environmental problems and other risks encompass less than the globally catastrophic. More and more disaster experts, development agencies, and citizens' groups are supporting that the globalisation is largely responsible for such human misery (Huckle, 1999: 36). Modernism signed by the development science and technology (Somerville, 2006: 17-18). Further, given the increasing production by technologically advanced capitalism of risks that threaten us all ironically that technology induced catastrophes and environmental disasters (Simon Cottle, 1998: 8). Since the Enlightenment, technology, especially science-based technology, has offered the promise of a better world through the elimination of disease and material improvements to standards of living. On the other hand, resource extraction, emissions of dangerous materials, and pollution of air, water, and soil have created conditions for unprecedented environmental catastrophe and have already caused irreversible damage to the biosphere (Vergragt, 2006: 7). Ironically, the persisting contradictions between a better life created and supported by technology for the wealthy few, also caused the increasing environmental degradation and persistent poverty for the vast majority calls for a deeper exploration and understanding of the nature. Philip J. Vergragt then, states that technology will support and enhance a "good life" for all of its citizens, in both rich and presently poor countries, without compromising the Earth's ecosystem or the prospects of later generations (Vergragt, 2006: 8). Thus, science and technology which shaped to the sophistication give man a power to colonize the earth. POSTCOLONIALISM Environmentalism in post-colonial discourse has its beginnings in Alfred Crosby's account of the impact of European incursions into the Americas and the Pacific (Ashcroft, 2000: 71). This incursion of course destructs not only the country; physical building and ideology but also the environment and nature. The conquest and colonization of so many extra-European environments produced irreversible changes in land use, in flora and fauna and frequently damaged beyond repair traditionally balanced relations between indigenous communities and their environments, a relationship unlike that of their conquerors crucial to their understanding of their 'being' as of the land rather than merely on it (Ashcroft, 2000: 71-72). He adds that imperial incursions and colonization have been regarded as environmentally destructive, yet as Richard Grove argues, the perception of what had already been lost in Europe, the sense of intrinsic connection between the 'more-than-human' and the human, and thus the urgency of environmental preservation became strikingly evident in Europe's colonies, particularly in the late nineteenth century. Much environmentalism in theory and practice has emanated from former imperial centres such as Europe and the United States. While belated recognition of the crucial importance of other forms of life on earth is both welcome and necessary, its export and sometimes imposition on postcolonized cultures invites the obvious charge of hypocrisy and generates resentment against former imperial states which having degraded their own and their colonies' environments in the 'interests' of progress and 'development' now encourage (or impose) the theory and practices of environmental preservation on other peoples (Ashcroft, 2000: 72). This also frequently creates division within post-colonized cultures themselves, where, for instance, peoples are moved off their traditional lands to make way for game parks, essentially for the benefit of wealthy tourists. Demands for the 'global' preservation of endangered species frequently clash with the policies of post-colonized governments eager to use their regained environmental sovereignty in the interests of a modern capitalism from which it is difficult for them to escape. Devastation of earth has highlighted how human–environmental vulnerabilities are amplified not only by anthropogenic climate change but also by the capitalist exploitation of natural resources (Carrigan, 2005: 1). Harmful environmental conduct exposes several broader dimensions such as the nation's ability to use its resources as determined by domestic political processes, such as; it changes the natural forest microclimates that have been transformed into new microclimates increasing sunlight and lowering humidity (Nazzal, 2005: 6). The ecological crisis is not merely an isolated event but has its roots in the modern materialistic civilization that makes man becomes the butcher of earth (Huggan and Tiffin, 2010: 1). They argue that one way out of this morass is to insist that the proper subject of postcolonialism is colonialism, and to look accordingly for colonial/imperial underpinnings of environmental practices in both colonising and colonised societies of the present and the past (Huggan and Tiffin, 2010: 3) Colonialism greatly changed the environmental condition of colonized country. Alfred W. Crosby (Crosby 1986) as quoted by Aschroft describes the ways in which the environments of colonized societies have been physically transformed by the experience of colonial occupation, imperialism/colonialism not only altered the cultural, political and social structures of colonized societies, but also devastated colonial ecologies and traditional subsistence patterns (Ashcroft, 2000: 69). Indirectly, colonization influences ecological changes in the past which cause ecological destruction in the present day. More importantly, based on Crosby statement in Aschroft explain that introduced crops and livestock not between colonizer and colonized country only supported conquering armies and colonizing populations, radically colonizer altered the entire ecology of the invaded lands in ways that necessarily disadvantaged indigenous peoples and annihilated or endangered native flora and fauna (2000: 69). Arguably this has led to one of the most profound ecological changes the world has seen. Colonization or colonialism can be defined as the conquest and control of other people's land and goods (Loomba, 2005: 8). Colonialism means a conquest which is done by the west or European and American country toward Asia and Africa by exploitation the land, surely it causes natural destruction. Elleke Boehmer has defined colonialism as the settlement of territory, the exploitation or development of resources, and attempts to govern the indigenous inhabitants of occupied lands (Boehmer as qtd. in McLeod 2000: 8). The term colonialism is important in defining the specific form of natural exploitation that developed with the expansion of Europe over the last 400 years (Ashcroft, 2000: 40). With the end of the cold war, global infatuation with neoliberal economics has intensified the peripheralization of the South along economic, political, social, cultural and natural lines (Geeta Chowdhry and Sheila Nair, 2002: 1). Postcolonial critique bears witness to those countries and communities - in the North and the South (Bhabha, 1994: 6). The assumption of postcolonial studies is that many of the wrongs, if not crimes, against nature are a product of the economic dominance of the north over the south (Young, 2001: 6). Thus, the Norh represents the West and the South represents the East. Postcolonialism sees the natural destruction on the South as the impacts of colonization The northern environmentalism considered as the rich (always potentially vainglorious and hypocritical) and the southern environmentalism considered as the poor (often genuinely heroic and authentic) (huggan and Tiffin, 2010: 2). However, northern needs of the natural need were supplied from the south in the name of colonization. Colonialism granted imperial powers the rights to arrogate and exploit the territory of a subject people as well as to appropriate unlimited property rights, post-colonial states acted quickly to regain control over their natural resources both through expropriation of foreign property interests and through the legal arena (Nazzal, 2005: 10). Colonialism, through both practice and discourse, has separated man from his natural surroundings and has given him a false idea about the meaning of nature: on the contrary, nature is not there to be plundered, but to be cared for, tended and made to yield its produce. Then, Man is ennobled by the relationship with the environment, by his power to make things grow and watch over their growth, but the reverse also holds true: devastation returns man to his primitive condition. It is not surprising when the the nature did reverse destruction to the humans. It is the result of what they do exploit to the nature. On the other world, man as the colonizer has colonized the earth which caused the devastation of earth. (Chrisman and Williams, 1994: 1–20). Thus, postcolonialism can be considered as umbrella term of ecocriticism in which it criticizes the relation between human and nature including criticizing humans' behaviour precisely humans' exploitation toward nature. ECOCRITICISM Humans truly can't be separated with environment. human beings are engaged in the eternal search for connection, for that which connects us to others and for that which connects us to ourselves, culture, language, history, belief systems, social practice, and other influences on human development are as much a part of place as the physical landscape one crosses (Dreese, 2002; 2-3). She emphasizes that environmental factors play a crucial role in the physical, emotional, and even spiritual configurations that determine our ideas of who we are. All human beings develop their own sense of place through life that determines why they love certain regions or feel utterly alien in others. The study of relations between humans and environment called ecology. Lawrence Buell defines ecology as the study of the interactions between organisms and the environment (Buell, 2005; 139). Meanwhile, Glen A Love defines ecology as not as merely a study of the relationship between organisms and their living and nonliving environment but also a combination of science and a sense of responsibility for life (2003; 37-38). Ecology as Lawrence Buell say above is drawn in the life circle; the life processes of many organisms put into their surroundings environment whose presence of other organism affects the life processes of these and other organisms sharing the same environment. When these processes are cut by such destruction, e.g. chemical by-products of the life processes of one species (or occupational group) are harmful to another species; the relationship between the two species is "antagonistic." Increased population density increases the probability of antagonistic interactions (Catton, 1994: 80). It is essential to be aware of the environmental damage which caused by ecological changes. The development of humans' ecology slowly damages the environment. The ecology of human development involves the scientific study of the progressive, mutual accommodation between an active, growing human being and the changing properties of the immediate settings (Bronfenbrenner, 1979: 21). Imbalance fine relations between humans and environment emerged a critic called ecocritic or ecocriticism (Buell, 2005; 2). John Elder as quoted by Dana Philip says that The science of ecology confirms the indivisibility of natural process: each feature of a landscape must be understood with reference to the whole, just as the habits of each creature reflect, and depend upon, the community of life around it (1999; 581). Ecology when it counts as science tends to be a lot more reductive, thus many of the core concepts of ecology once notable for their expansiveness have in recent years been cut down to size, made more particular, or abandoned altogether. It now appears that even the ecosystem concept may not be valid biologically, but valid concept or not, an ecosystem is primarily a theoretical entity, and therefore could never be the reality that somehow underwrites poetry, even if that poetry is of the good old-fashioned, supposedly "organic" sort (Philip, 1999; 582). By that kind of reason, Elder argues that culture too may be understood organically: it is the field of relationship between organisms and, as such, a complex organism in its own right (Philip, 1999; 582). Ecology is not merely bound to science and technology, but also moral and politic. Greg Garrard assumes that ecology itself is shifting and contested, the emphasis on the moral and political orientation of the ecocritic and the broad specification of the field of study are essential (2004; 4). Problems of ecology are features of our society, arising out of our dealings with nature, from which we should like to free ourselves, and which we do not regard as inevitable consequences of what is good in that society (Garrard, 2004; 5). Lynn white, Jr argues in his article on Cheryll Glotfelty's The Ecocriticism reader: landmark in literary ecology that environmental crisis is fundamentally a matter of the beliefs and values that direct science and technology and dominating attitude toward nature (1996; 4). Discoveries in ecology and cellular biology revolutionize our sense of self, teaching us that there is no such thing as an individual, only an individual-in-context (Neil Evernden, 1996; 93). Discoveries of course get much of invention. Unconsciously, humans' behaviour (ex: exploitation) toward environment was changed. Industrial Revolution affected humanity's conception of its relationship to nature, warning that technology has created the false illusion that we control nature, allowing us to forget that our "unconquerable minds" are vitally dependent upon natural support systems (Harold Fromm, 1996; 31) Ecocritic or Ecocriticism is an umbrella term, used to refer to the environmentally oriented study of literature and (less often) the arts more generally, and to the theories that underlie such critical practice (Buell, 2005; 138). Cheryll Glotfelty simply writes the definition, ecocriticism is the study of the relationship between literature and the physical environment, ecocriticism takes an earth-centered approach to literary studies (1996: xviii). Ecocriticism might succinctly be defined as study of the relation between literature and environment conducted in a spirit of commitment to environmental praxis (Lawrence Buell as quoted by Dana Philip, 1999; 583). Ecocriticism is, then, an avowedly political mode of analysis, ecocritics generally tie their cultural analyses explicitly to a 'green' moral and political agenda. In this respect, ecocriticism is closely related to environmentally oriented developments in philosophy and political theory (Greg Garrard, 2004; 3) Ecocentrism is more compelling as a call to fellow humans to recognize the intractable, like-it-or-not interdependence that subsists between the human and the nonhuman and to tread more lightly on the earth than it is as a practical program (Lawrence Buell, 2005, 102). Ecological criticism shares the fundamental premise that human culture is connected to the physical world, affecting it and affected by it. Ecocriticism takes as its subject the interconnections between nature and culture, specifically the cultural artefacts of language and literature (Cheryll Glotfelty, 1996; xix). The majority of ecocritics, whether or not they theorize their positions, look upon their texts of reference as refractions of physical environments and human interaction with those environments, notwithstanding the artifactual properties of textual representation and their mediation by ideological and other socio-historical factors (Lawrence Buell , 2005; 30). Literary theory, in general, examines the relations between writers, texts, and the world. In most literary theory "the world" is synonymous with society-the social sphere. Ecocriticism expands the notion of "the world" to include the entire ecosphere or nonhuman, which is physical environment. Several things that have to be seen are: • Transforming this concept becomes social movement that will bring the humans into conscious of the equality between human and their environment and doesn't consider the nature into binary opposition between dominate and dominated. • Ecocriticism encourages the changing of canonisation through entering literary works which carry up natural issue. • Ecocriticism is not only an approach but also a pendadogis tool. • Ecocriticism connects the literary study with the earth to see how is the relation between humans and earth where they stand (Cheryll Glotfelty, 1996, xxii) The majority of ecocritics, whether or not they theorize their positions, look upon their texts of reference as refractions of physical environments and human interaction with those environments, notwithstanding the artifactual properties of textual representation and their mediation by ideological and other sociohistorical factors (Buell, 2005; 30). It can be assumed that Ecocrtiticism sees the text as the refraction of physical environment. Another denigrates attempts to recuperate realism as restricting the field of environmental writing, as ludicrously foreshortened in focus ("its practitioners . . . reduced to an umpire's role, squinting to see if a given depiction of a horizon, a wildflower, or a live oak tree is itself well painted and lively"), and in any case bogus, since "mimesis presumes the sameness of the representation and the represented object" (Phillips 2003: 163–4, 175). Buell has added that this is a conviction that contact (or lack ofcontact) with actual environments is intimately linked, even if not on a one-to-one basis, with the work of environmental imagination, for both writer and critic (Buell, 2005; 31). Ecocriticism can explore what we can call a discursively manipulated nonhuman world in literature, and discuss how it gets marginalized or silenced by, or incorporated into the human language (Legler, I997: 227). Nonhuman environment must be represented as an active presence and player within the text made some astute readers inclined to be sympathetic of the environment (Buell, 2005: 51). The task of ecocriticism, then, is to formulate a conceptual foundation for the study of interconnections between literature and the environment. Literature can be perceived as an aesthetically and culturally constructed part of the environment, since it directly addresses the questions of human constructions, such as meaning, value, language, and imagination, which can, then, be linked to the problem of ecological consciousness that humans need to attain. Within this framework, ecocritics are mainly concerned with how literature transmits certain values contributing to ecological thinking (Glotfelty, 1996: xxi). Ecocriticism offers researcher a way how to analyze such literary work through three steps. First is seeing the representation of nonhuman aspect. This first step is looking how is the nature like rice field, village, wilderness, forest, sea, beach, hill, mountain, valley, river, animal (or treatment toward animal) and city environment pictured in the text. Second is seeing the accusation toward ecology issues. The second step destructs how the natural issue is portrayed with the different way. For instance, the nature is pictured as an inconvenient place again for humans because of the emergence the new value; technology, capitalism, extinction of local knowledge, and development of building which is not oriented to the environment. Last is taking part of text's ideology. In this case examines the relations between writers, texts, and the world. This third step is seeing and taking part of the ideology that contains in the text. How the author's view and commitment toward the nature (Cheryll Glotfelty, 1996, xix). DEVASTATION OF EARTH Those all theories mentioned above are related to the word "devastation" which happened on earth. Modernism granted colonizer a power to devastate the earth in which postcolonialism and ecocriticism tend to criticize that devastation. Certainly, what is actually the meaning of devastation of earth? The word "devastation" itself according to Merriam-Webster dictionary means the state or fact of being rendered nonexistent, physically unsound, or useless. In other word, devastation is deterioration, destruction, vanishing of the earth through depletion of resources such as air, water and soil. Devastation of earth can be defined as a destruction of ecosystems and the extinction of wildlife. Devastation of earth is a term used to describe a situation in which a part of the natural environment (the earth) is devastated or damaged. According to Shakhashiri, earth is areas of land as distinguished from sea and air (2011: 1). It means that the earth is composed by three parts; land, sea and air. Thus, it can be ascertained that if the devastation happened on earth, it will strike those all of earth's parts. The devastation which strikes the air will harm the condition of air in the atmosphere or known as devastated atmosphere, devastation which strikes the land will harm the condition of the soil and change it into erode and barren, and devastation which strike the water will contaminate the clean water into the dirty one. The earth as mentioned above that composed from three parts; certainly those each parts have a role. Land is the surface of the earth where the creatures are growing and developing; the plantations (trees) grow well, the animals breed and the humans dwell the life. Air is the mixture of gases which surrounds the Earth in which it contains a lot of vital substances such as oxygen and ozone. And water is a clear liquid, without colour or taste, which falls from the sky as rain and is necessary for animal and plant even human life. Water is also available in the river and sea. All of those parts of the earth greatly have advantage when it states in the normal/natural condition. However, when it was devastated, the earth turns into less natural and more miserable. That is the picture of the devastation of earth. DEPICTION OF DEVASTATION OF EARTH The devastation of earth as Hughes says has happened in every historical period and in every part of the inhabited Earth (2001: 1). It means that devastation of earth happened in the whole surface of the earth. Devastation has stroked the whole environment; atmosphere, land, and sea. Postcolonialism argues that colonialism has an intervention on devastating the earth. Colonialism has devastated the earth as Ashcroft says that the conquest and colonization of so many extra-European environments produced irreversible changes in land use, in flora and fauna and frequently damaged beyond repair traditionally balanced relations between indigenous communities and their environments (2000: 71-72). He adds that imperial incursions and colonization have been regarded as environmentally destructive. Devastation of earth happened over earth. It means that devastation happened on land, atmosphere and sea. The land has changed into gullied, eroded and barren. This changing surely as the impact of devastation of earth which is done by the colonizer in colonizing the land. Everything which stands on the land has changed, There was no reborn flora and fauna in McCarthy's The Road. However, the presence of the flora and fauna is the rest of the previous world. Indeed these flora and fauna have changed as the impact of colonialism. Flora in McCarthy's The Road is dominated by the trees. However, most of the trees have changed into gray, dark and black. It is so pathetic when the father and his son faced the standing black trees and they realized that it changes. Horribly, it seems like ghost of trees. The changing of the trees is not underlined on the changes of its colour but also its presence. It means that the trees are not only changing into dark and black with its standing but also there are many trees which die and fall to the ground. The changes of fauna can be seen when the father and his son was camp in the forest and listening for any sound, it draws that the bird has changed its behaviour by holding migratory to circle the earth. The birds can no longer life in harmony with the environment by occupying the forest. It is caused the changing of trees which turn into dead. Thus, it forces the birds to change themselves. Other fauna changing draws when the father who found an odor of cows. However, the cows are extinct since years ago. He asked to himself whether the cows are really real or not. He finally realized that it is extinct. It shows that the cows are changed from the presence to absence. The burning of a certain thing; such as the trees, surely produces a residue or combustion. It can be carbon and ash. It can be imagined how large the amount of ash will be produced if the whole land of forest were burned. Certainly, the ash will cover everything that has seen. A horrible fire of forest has produced a horrible ash too till everything is covered by ash. The ash has moved along the wind till it covered the city and everything in the city, The fire of forest makes the amount of ash become uncontrolled. The moving of ash filled the air and atmosphere in which it makes everything coloured covered by ash and dust. Hence, everything becomes colourless. The ash changes the landscape become gray. It can be assumed that the graying landscape is no other causing by the moving ash. The occupying of ash in the atmosphere makes the day become unseen and dark. The result of the residual combustion is not ashes merely, but also carbons that harm the environment. Ash and carbon both fill and occupy the atmosphere. As the greenhouse effect idea, that the ash and carbon also dust which in a large amount and uncontrolled in atmosphere will form a mantle which wrapped out the whole of earth. This causes our sight of the sky become dark and gray.The sky and cloud are devoured with ash. The cloud becomes ashen and gray. Severity, the ash and carbon have contaminated everything in the air including the sea water vapor. Then, the result is clouds of ash. Ash and dust have affected the form of the cloud to become gray. Probably its content has been also affected. When the clouds changes into gray, it can be predicted that the rainwater which come down from the clouds will also be gray. It is supported with the presence of the ash mantle that wrapped up the earth. Certainly, everything which come down from the sky; rainwater has to pass this mantle, consequently the rain water will be coloured as gray by the ash mantle. The ash mantle has coloured the rain water. The rainwater which drips down to the earth is seen as the gray sheets of rain. Rainwater that is usually used by humans to fulfil their needs such as to irrigate the fields has been contaminated by ash and carbon so that its contents no longer can be used for the benefit of man. Consequently, there will be no crops and there will be no natural food. Mantle of ash has blanketed the earth during the unknown time. As described above that everything which fell from the sky will pass this mantle so that everything will be contaminated by it. The result, everything which fell will be gray. After several days the father and his son watched the gray sheets of rain, the weather quickly changes into snowy. Everyone knows as it has seen that snow is falling from the sky. The snow actually is similar to the rain, including their formed and their fell. The sea water vapor which is formed into cloud in the sky will fall as the rainwater, however, because of the extreme/cold weather, the rain water freeze into ice and it changes into snow that is white and soft. This falling snow of course has to pass the mantle of ash and it changes into gray. The next devastation of earth is turned to everything which lay on the surface of the earth covered by darkness as the ash effect. Everything stands in the earth turned to be black such as the dead trees which burned by fire forest, and the rain water and snow which fell as gray turn into black in the land. The dead trees which burned by fire forest surely create a black view of trees. The trees which burned in incompletely will make an appearance of burnt and black trees. The rainwater and snow which are grey in their falling turned to be black in the land. The large number of those rainwater and snow gathered as one in the ground create a new colour, more intense and black. The gray flakes which fell down turned to the dark slush. Dark slush can be assumed as the slush which is thicker than a flake. Thus, the slush which is as the result of flakes changes into black. It is also applied in the rainwater; the water in the land is not the whole from the rainwater, some from the river and so on. However, the thick rainwater which fell down in gray proved that its water is dominated to black water. the slush which is melted flows through the ash and turned to the black water. THE IMPACTS OF DEVASTATION OF EARTH ON FATHER'S ATTITUDE Living and dwelling in such devastated earth surely give impacts to the humans who walk over it. The father and his son reveal those kinds of impacts. The father who lived before and after unknown disaster seems undergoing a lot of impacts. It is different with his son who born after that disaster. He tends to be innocent, only watch and observe what his father did. There was an idea to end the life when the father still lived with his woman. She always forces him to end their life because there was nothing else to do in the ruined world. However, the father keep his believe that humans have to struggle. The experience of dwelling the life before the unknown disaster made him stronger. The father realized that what the environment did to him is the result what the humans did to the environment, as Lawrence Buell says that human culture is connected to the physical world; nature and environment, affecting it and affected by it. In other word, humans have affected the environment and have been affected by environment. The woman forces him because they lived in unusual life, they lived like zombie. The devastation of earth causes their life as like as zombie or walking dead in a horror film which the father and his son have a role as the victims. They have to avoid even to face the zombie to keep alive. Dwelling the life in such devastated earth; the air was filled by the ash and dust forces them to wear a mask. The devastated earth; unfriendly air forces him to wear mask (canister mask) and even wear biohazard suit. As the affection of the devastated earth, the father and his son have to worry their life, Mostly he worried about their shoes. Worrying is something that the father in his son has to do. There is no certainty living in such ruined world. It is a common thing for them to worry anytime, worrying of food and shoes. Food is essential thing to keep alive. It is the reason why they worry of food. If they can't find some foods, it means they will die. The shoes are important stuff to hold a journey. As explain before that the weather extremely changes a while. Few days were raining, and another was snowing. Shoes keep the father in his son feet to keep away from coldness and freezing which can take their life. The weather is extremely cold. It is not surprising that the weather turns to colder and colder. The weather has changed anytime; sometime it rains and often snow. The coldness of weather doesn't only force them to eat the food that already fermented as above but also threaten their life. The coldness is very extremely danger for them. Moreover it is pictured that the cold can crack the stone and takes their life off. In such condition surely makes them hard to breathe because in the coldness the air contains thin oxygen. Dwelling the life in such devastated earth actually makes him aware of surrounding even the weather. The sounds like forest fire, fallen trees, and so on makes his ears disturbed and consequently he has to keep awake. Living in such devastated earth makes him to be more aware toward everything that threatens them. The father and his son have experienced many kinds of problems. Everything that happened to him does not break his spirit to keep alive even when they are in starving. He always believes that he would find something to eat. the father always optimistic dwelling life. the devastated earth makes him become more optimistic. Struggle is a must to do to find another thing to be eaten to keep the life. Keep trying is the key for the good guys who living in the ruined environment. By keeping trying, they can survive dwelling the life in such environment. Keep trying is not enough to live in such devastated earth. Always suspect the possibility that may happen has to be done, because no one knows what will happen, but the threat of nature always happen all the time. Thus, another thing that has to do is to remain vigilant about the environment. The devastated earth forces him to become "cautious, watchful" and always "on the lookout". He believes that no one expect a trouble. However, living in the devastated earth, the thing that has to do is to always expect it. Thus he was always wary of something bad that may happen. Nothing can be expected from the nature. The father always believed it. He no longer agrees if people prepare something for tomorrow. Although he always optimistic of what he did, he never believed it. For him, even though he's preparing for tomorrow, he doesn't believe that the nature will prepare for him. What the father believes that is now or tomorrow is the same. This belief keeps the father spirit to face his following days. As a father he would often feel the pain. Physically, he is ill of facing the devastated earth. And mentally, he is ill of the feeling of bearing the responsibility as a father who is responsible for the survival of his son and his own life. However nature should never take the life of his son. He would bet his life for the life of his son. Often he complains to himself about his illness. He pretends as tough man in front his son but actually he felt tremendous pain. It's just that he does not want his son to know. THE IMPACTS OF DEVASTATION OF EARTH ON SON'S ATTITUDE Being born in the devastated earth which the unknown disaster has swept it surely affects the son's behaviour toward environment. The greyscale image of environment has saved well in his mind that forces him to expect something else, something in colour. When they continue their journey, the son had found some crayons. These crayons change his mind that something left on earth in colour. Thus, environment is not filling of gray merely. The crayons seem like a hope for

DIE UNSTERBLICHE LANDSCHAFT. ZWEITER BAND: FLANDERN. ARRAS-SOMME-ST. QUENTIN. DIE AISNE-CHAMPAGNE-FRONT. DER KAMPFRAUM VERDUN. VOGESENKRIEG. DER KRIEG IN DEN KOLONIEN. DER SEEKRIEG. Die unsterbliche Landschaft (-) Die unsterbliche Landschaft. Zweiter Band: Flandern. Arras-Somme-St. Quentin. Die Aisne-Champagne-Front. Der Kampfraum Verdun. Vogesenkrieg. Der Krieg in den Kolonien. Der Seekrieg. (II. / 1935) ( - ) Einband ( - ) Titelseite ( - ) Impressum ( - ) Flandern ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Die Eroberung von Lüttich (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der große Augenblick des Einmarsches in Feindesland! (2)Die Regimenter liegen am Abend des 5. August in weitem Halbkreis um die Fortlinie. In dem Ernst der Gesichter prägt sich die Spannung des bevorstehenden Gefechts aus. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der nächtliche Kampf in brennenden Dörfern entschleiert dem Soldaten hier zum ersten Male das grausige Gesicht des Krieges. (2)Einer einzigen Kolonne glückt der Einbruch in die Festung. In fieberhafter Eile wird schwerstes Geschütz gegen die Forts in Stellung gebracht, um den Eingeschlossenen Hilfe zu bringen. (2) [3 Abb.]: (1)Fort Liers. In einem gewaltigen Betonklotz sind vier Panzerkuppeln eingebettet; eine Anlage, die unverwundbar schien. (2)Fort Loncin. Teile des Forts sind durch die deutsche Beschießung in ein Trümmerfeld verwandelt; andere, dicht daneben liegende Teile sind von der Geschoßwirkung fast unberührt geblieben, ein Zeichen für die Treffgenauigkeit der schweren Geschütze. (3)Das Geschütz war stärker als Panzer und Beton! Die Forts mußten Kapitulieren. - Wall und Graben eines gestürmten Werkes. Voll Staunen betrachten die deutschen Soldaten die zerschmetternde Wirkung der 42-cm-Granate. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Justizpalast, im 16. Jahrhundert als Residenzschloß des Fürstbischofs erbaut, im 18. Jahrhundert erneuert, würde für kurze Zeit Hauptsitz der militärischen Verwaltungsbehörde. (2)Hof des Justizpalastes in Brüssel nach der Besetzung. Er gehört zu den bedeutendsten Baudenkmälern Brüssels. (4) Der Durchmarsch durch Belgien im August 1914 (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Durch die bei Lüttich geschlagene Bresche strömten um die Mitte des August die 1. und 2. deutsche Armee nach Belgien hinein. (2)Marschieren! - Marschieren! (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Nicht selten kam es zu erbitterten Ortskämpfen mit der aufständischen Bevölkerung, deren völkerrechtswidriges Verhalten strenge Strafmaßnahmen notwendig machte. - Im Franktireurkrieg in Brand geratenes Dorf. (2)Unsere vorrückenden Truppen begegneten überall flüchtender Zivilbevölkerung. (3)Auf Schubkarren führen die heimatlos Gewordenen ihre ärmliche Habe mit sich. - Ein trauriges Bild des erbarmungslosen Krieges. (6) [2 Abb.]: Am 20. August wurde Brüssel besetzt, das Sitz des Generalgouverneurs von Belgien wurde. Hier liefen während des ganzen Krieges die Fäden der Verwaltung zusammen. (1)Auf dem Marktplatz vor dem Rathaus. (2)Die deutsche Wache vor dem Brüsseler Rathaus. (7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Namur. Blick von der Zitadelle auf das tief eingeschnittene Maastal mit seinen bewaldeten Hängen. Teile der Stadt sind durch die Belagerung zerstört worden. (2)Maubeuge, Fort Boussoir. Wirkung eines 42 cm-Treffers auf eine Panzerkuppel, deren Deckel abgehoben und fortgeschleudert ist. (8) [2 Abb.]: Rastlos weiter geht der Marsch, nach Frankreich hinein. Immer länger werden die rückwärtigen Verbindungen zu den Proviant- und Munitionsdepots der Heimat. Die Kolonnen haben schwere Arbeit. (2)Am härtesten sind die Anforderungen an die Infanterie. Die ungeheure Spannung der Lage erlaubt keine Ruhe und Schonung. Todmüde sinken die Soldaten bei jeder Rast zu Boden. (9) Die Eroberung Antwerpens im Oktober 1914 (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Einschlag einer 42-cm-Granate im Fort de Wavre St. Catherine. Man erkennt die klare Linie der Wallböschung rechts und links vom Einschlag und die Panzerkuppeln. (2)Vor dem Sturm auf Fort de Wavre. Die Sturmkolonne hat in einem riesigen, anscheinend von einem 42-cm-Geschoß herrührenden Granattrichter Deckung genommen und erwartet das Signal zum Vorbrechen. Einige Leute sind mit Brandröhren zum Ausräuchern der Grabenwehren ausgerüstet. Der offizier trägt noch den langen Degen. Haltung und Gesichtsausdruck der Mannschaften ist für die Lage sehr bezeichnend. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sturm auf das Fort de Wavre. Über den Wassergraben des Forts sind von den Pionieren tragbare Schnellbrücken geschoben für den Übergang der Infanterie. In der Mitte der Wallböschung sammelt sich der Sturmtrupp, um geschlossen in das Innere des Forts einzubrechen. Links daneben eine außer Gefecht gesetzte Panzerkuppel. (2)Zertrümmerter Panzerbeobachtungsturm. Ein einziger Volltreffer hat genügt. (11) [2 Abb.]: (1)In den Straßen, die zum Hafen hinabführen, einst von Seeleuten aus aller Welt belebt, ist es still geworden. Der herrliche Turm der Kathedrale ist das stolze Wahrzeichen der reichen alten Handelsstadt. (2)Teil des Hafens an der Schelde mit Blick auf die Kathedrale. (12) Der Vormarsch der neuen Reservekorps nach Flandern (13) [Abb.]: Marschrast. Die jungen Soldaten wußten noch nichts von dem furchtbaren Ernst des Krieges, der sie an der Yser und vor Ypern erwartet. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Gent. Blick von der St.-Michaels-Brücke auf die St.-Nikolaus-Kirche und den Belfried, (2)Marktplatz in Courtrai. (14) [2 Abb.]: Das prachtvolle gotische Rathaus in Oudenaarde legt Zeugnis ab von dem einstigen Reichtum selbst der kleineren flandrischen Städte. (2)Belgische Flüchtlinge kehren zurück. Charakteristisch ist die Art, wie das schwere belgische Pferd ohne Deichsel an losen Ketten vor den Wagen gespannt ist. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brügge, in früheren Jahrhunderten Mittelpunkt des Welthandels im nördlichen Europa, heute eine stille verträumte Stadt, der die altertümlichen Bauten und zahllose Kanäle einen einzigartigen Zauber verleihen. - Der Marktplatz mit den vom Belfried überragten "Hallen". (16) An der belgischen Küste (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schützengräben in den Dünen bei Zebrügge nahe der holländischen Grenze. Der Strand ist durch Buhnen gegen die Gewalt der Fluten geschützt. Ins Meer hinaus geführte Dämme sichern den Kanal gegen Versandung. Hinter den Dünen breitet sich eine fruchtbare Landschaft. - Die Aufnahme stammt von 1917. (2)Ein Seekanal verbindet Brügge mit dem Seehafen Zeebrügge. (17) [3 Abb.]: (1)Am Meer. - Badende Soldaten. (2)Das Weltbad Ostende wurde ohne Widerstand besetzt. Auf den Terrassen der Luxushotels vergessen die Soldaten für kurze Stunden den Ernst des Krieges. (3)Aber bald ändert sich auch hier das Bild. Die Ostender Strandpromenade, einst Treffpunkt der eleganten Welt, wird ein Teil der Küstenkampffront. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Küstenverteidigung bei Ostende. Von Marinesoldaten besetzte Stellungen in den Dünen. (2)Matrosenartillerie. - Vier Jahre lang hielten die deutschen schweren Geschütze die englische Flotte von der belgischen Küste fern. (19) [2 Abb.]: Küstenbatterie Kaiser Wilhelm II. bei Knocke. (1)Eine gewaltige Anlage mit Betonunterständen und Panzerschutz und mit Gleisanschlüssen für den Munitionstransport. Vor der Batterie ein Drahthindernisstreifen. Weiter vorwärts, hier nicht mehr sichtbar, Infanterieanlagen, durch Annäherungswege mit der Batterie verbunden. (2)Aufbau einer Küstenbatterie, aus der Nähe gesehen. Die unter Panzerlafette stehenden Geschütze sind im Halbkreis drehbar und durch mächtige gemauerte und betonierte Schulterwehren gegen Schrägfeuer geschützt. Hinter den Geschützen läuft das Förderbahngleis für den Munitionstransport. Die Geschützstände stehen auf Kasematten für die Unterbringung der Mannschaften und der Munition. (20) [2 Abb.]: Deutsche Torpedoboote und U-Boote vor Zebrügge. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild vom Lombardzyde. (2)Rundbildaufnahme des Geländes zwischen Nieuport und Nieuport Bad. Im Vordergrund der Groot Noord Nieuwland Polder mit der durch den Durchstich des Yserdammes hervorgerufenen Überschwemmung. Die deutschen Stellungen laufen durch die Zuckerfabrik, die französischen liegen an der Baumlinie hinter der Polder Ferme. (22 -23) Der Kampfraum an der Yser (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Große Yserschleuse bei Nieuport. Infolge der Zerstörung der Schleusen strömte das Meerwasser ungehindert in das teilweise unter dem Meeresspiegel liegende Land ein. Der aus dem Schleusenbecken in der Mitte des Bildes nach oben rechts führende Wasserlauf stellt die Verbindung zum Meer her; die nach unten und nach links führenden Wasserläufe sind Kanäle und schiffbar gemachte Flußläufe, die in das Innere des Landes gehen. Das Bild ist 1915 aufgenommen. Die Zerstörungen um Nieuport sind bereits sehr beträchtlich. (2)Immer mehr füllte sich die Yserniederung mit Meerwasser. Nur die auf Dämmen führenden Straßen boten noch Verkehrsmöglichkeiten. Neben dem Fahrdamm läuft, ein in der Flandrischen Landschaft häufiges Bild, eine Kleinbahn. Charakteristisch für Flandern sind die schiefgeneigten Baumreihen. (24) [2 Abb.]: Die steigende Wasserflut machte die Fortsetzung des Angriffs schließlich unmöglich. In kurzer Zeit war ein weitausgedehntes Sumpfgebiet entstanden. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Selbst die Kanalböschungen mußten, um Schutz zu gewinnen, erhöht werden. Im Vordergrund eine behelfsmäßige Kanalbrücke, hinten ein langer über die Wasserfläche führender Laufsteg. (2)Schräge Ballonaufnahme aus dem Überschwemmungsgebiet. Die dunklen Flächen sind trockengebliebenes Land. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Senkrechte Fliegeraufnahme vom Überschwemmungsgebiet. Die Verteilung von Wasser und Land ist deutlich zu erkennen. - Der helle Strich von links oben nach rechts unten ist eine Chaussee. Die dünnen Linien sind Laufstege, die zu den Stützpunkten (Werften) führen. In der rechten unteren Ecke ein zur Verteidigung eingerichtetes Dorf mit vielen Geschoßeinschlägen; in der linken ein Fluß, an dessen Ufern befestigte Häusergruppen stehen. (2)Englisches Arbeitskommando im Überschwemmungsgebiet. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das zerstörte Rathaus in Dixmuiden, 1917 aufgenommen. Die edlen architektonischen Formen sind selbst aus den Trümmern noch deutlich erkennbar. (2)Straße am Kanal in Dixmuiden. - Aufnahme von 1916. (28) Der Kampfraum um Ypern (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vorkriegsaufnahme der Tuchhalle und der Kathedrale St. Martin in Ypern. Diese beiden Meisterwerke der gotischen Baukunst Flanderns hat der Weltkrieg bis auf spärliche Reste vernichtet. Heute ist die Kathedrale nach den alten Plänen wieder vollständig aufgebaut. (2)Blick aus dem Fesselballon auf das brennende Ypern. (29) [3 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild von Ypern vom Juni 1915. Die Aufnahme ist von Höhe 60, nördlich Hollebeck, gemacht. Am unteren Rand des Bildes ist die Brustwehr des deutschen Schützengrabens sichtbar, links in der Mitte das feindliche Drahthindernis; dahinter maskierte Schützengräben. Die Raumverhältnisse sind durch die Fernaufnahme stark verschoben. Die Entfernung bis Ypern beträgt etwa 7 km. (2)Fliegeraufnahme von Ypern aus dem Jahre 1915. In der Mitte die Tuchhalle mit dem Belfried, dahinter die Kathedrale. Die ganze Stadt ist schon fast ausgebrannt. Nur die Umfassungsmauern stehen noch. (3)Ypern im Jahre 1917. Oben in der Mitte ein Teil der Tuchhalle, links daneben die Kathedrale (Turmseite). Die Umfassungsmauern der Gebäude sind durch die ständige Beschießung größenteils eingestürzt. In der linken und rechten Ecke mächtige Erdtrichter, wahrscheinlich von schweren Fliegerbomben herrührend. (30 - 31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Unterstände im Damm des Yserkanals (Innenseite). Die Kanalwand ist durch Faschinen befestigt. Ein Bohlenweg stellt die Verbindung her. (2)Flandrischer Kanal. Die Schleuse (unten) ist zerstört. Vier Brücken stellen auf der kurzen Strecke schnellen Übergang sicher. (32) [Abb.]: Die zerstörte Kirche von Langemarck. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Betonunterstände bei Langemarck, die alle Stürme der Materialschlachten überdauert haben, dienten nach dem Kriege den Bauern als Geräteschuppen. (2)Ehrenhof in der Gedächtnishalle auf dem deutschen Gefallenenfriedhof bei Langemarck, den die deutsche Studentenschaft im Jahre 1932 unter Verwendung der alten Betonunterstände errichten ließ. (34) [2 Abb.]: Das stark zerschossene "Polygonwäldchen" südöstlich Ypern, einer der Brennpunkte des Kampfes. (35) [2 Abb.]: Englische und deutsche Schützengräben bei Zonnenbeke im Jahre 1915. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Paschendaele vor Beginn der Flandernschlacht 1917. Um diese Zeit standen noch Trümmer des Dorfes. Die Straßenzüge sind deutlich erkennbar. (2)Becelaire. Man erkennt die ganz flache Bodenwelle, wie sie für diese Landschaft charakteristisch ist. Nach dem oberen und linken Rand des Bildes zu fällt das Gelände ab und bildet dort eine flache Mulde. Die Schützengräben und Annäherungswege um Kirche und Dorf zeichnen sich deutlich ab. (37) [Abb.]: Gutausgebauter Schützengraben im Park des Schlosses Hooge, östlich Zillebeke. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Houthulsterwald Anfang 1917. Trotz der Verwüstungen sind noch Schützengräben und Annäherungswege vorhanden, die eine geregelte Gefechtstätigkeit ermöglichen. (2)Betonunterstand in Gegend Hollebeke. Da die Anlage von Unterständen in dem versumpften flandrischen Boden je länger je mehr unmöglich wurde, war man gezwungen, auf dem gewachsenen Boden mächtige Betonflötze (Bunker) zu errichten. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Meilenlange Bohlenstraßen wurden gebaut, um der Kampffront Verpflegung und Kampfgerät zuführen zu können. So entstand ein ganz neues Wegenetz, eine Glanzleistung deutscher Pioniere. (2)Außerhalb der Bohlenwege war in dem Trichterfeld ein Verkehr von Fahrzeugen vielfach gar nicht mehr möglich. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Wytschaetebogen. - In dem Höhengelände südlich Ypern wurden die riesigen bei den englischen Sprengungen entstandenen Trichter zu Stützpunkten ausgebaut. (2)Auf der anderen Seite des Stacheldrahts (41) Die Schlacht in Flandern 1917 (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Trommelfeuer auf den deutschen Stellungen bei Zillebeke. Dieser Geschoßhagel hielt ohne Unterbrechung Tage und Wochen an, bis endlich der Infanterieangriff begann. - Der schwarz-Weiße Strich ist ein Teil des Flugzeugs. (2)Stellung im Trichtergelände vor dem Trommelfeuer. Es besteht noch eine Art durchlaufender Graben. Zahlreiche Trampelwege führen nach vorwärts und rückwärts. Links oben ein Förderbahngleis. Der Platz in der Mitte ist anscheinend Stapelplatz für Pioniergerät; auf seiner rechten Seite ein gut getarnter Bunker. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Flandrisches Trichterfeld. Der Soldat muß sich zwischen den Trichtern mühsam seinen Weg suchen, bis zu den Knien im Morast watend, stets in Gefahr, in einem Trichter zu versinken. In dunkler Nacht und unter schwerem Feuer steigert sich das Grausen einer solchen Wanderung ins unvorstellbare. (2)Trichterstellung während der Flandernschlacht. Es gibt keine zusammenhängenden und durchlaufenden Gräben mehr, sondern nur noch einzelne Maschinengewehrnester und Postenlöcher (auf dem Bild an der dunkleren Färbung erkennbar). In ihnen lagen die Mannschaften halb im Wasser und Schlamm, wochenlang der Wirkung der Artillerie und der Infanterieflieger schutzlos preisgegeben. - Die drei von rechts oben nach links unten führenden dunklen Striche deuten noch die ursprüngliche Grabenanlage an, die jedoch völlig aufgegeben ist. (43) Die Erstürmung des Kemmel im April 1918 (44 - 45) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick aus der Gegend nordöstlich Armentières auf den Kemmel. (2)Die Artillerievorbereitungen für den Sturm auf den Kemmel: Vergasung der feindlichen Artilleriestellungen und Beobachtungsstellen. Die in der Bildmitte schwarz erkennbaren feindlichen Infanteriestellungen weisen vorläufig nur wenig Beschuß auf. (3)Rundbild vom Kemmelgebiet, aufgenommen vom Straßenkreuz östlich Nieuwekerke. Man erkennt, daß es sich um einen ziemlich flachen, mit schütterem Wald bedeckten Höhenzug handelt, der indessen einen umfassenden Überblick über das Gelände südlich Ypern gewährt. Links im Walde zahlreiche Wellblechbaracken. Auf dem rechten Teil des Bildes sind Stellungen sichtbar. (44 - 45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die ganze Feuervorbereitung dauerte nur wenige Stunden, war dafür aber von ungeheurer Stärke. - Das Bild zeigt die höchste Feuersteigerung. Der ganze Berg liegt unter einem Orkan, bei dem die einzelnen Einschläge nicht mehr erkennbar sind. (2)An der Vormarschstraße. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schnell ausgehobene Gräben boten geringen Schutz. - Meldegänger am Hang des Kemmel. (2)Der Kemmel nach dem Sturm. - Ein riesiges Trichterfeld, in dem die Stellungen kaum noch erkennbar sind. (47) [Abb.]: Am Ortseingang des wiedererstandenen Langemarck. (48) [3 Karten]: (1)Westflandern (2)Belgien (3)Sprachgebiete von Belgien ( - ) Arras - Somme - St. Quentin ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Das Industriegebiet von Lille bildete die Grenze zwischen den Kampfräumen Flandern und Lens - Arras. - Die Stadt Lille, die seit Herbst 1914 nahe hinter den deutschen Linien lag, erlitt verhaltensmäßig nur geringe Zerstörungen. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Amiens, die alte Hauptstadt der Pikardie, sah nur beim Vormarsch 1914 deutsche Truppen in ihren Mauern. Während des späteren Stellungskrieges lag es weit vor der deutschen Front. - Die herrliche Kathedrale blieb unbeschädigt. (2)Marktplatz von Cambrai. - Die Stadt geriet nur 1917 in der Tankschlacht von Cambrai in den Brennpunkt der Kämpfe. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)In der Schlacht von St. Quentin warf die deutsche 2. Armee in den letzten Augusttagen 1914 den bereits bei Charleroi geschlagenen Feind erneut zurück. Im späteren Stellungskrieg hatte die Stadt zeitweise schwer unter dem Krieg zu leiden. (2)Péronne war während der Sommeschlacht einer der Hauptpfeiler der deutschen Front. Die Stadt wurde beim Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung dem Feind überlassen, in der Großen Schlacht in Frankreich im Frühjahr 1918 aber zurückerobert. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sommelandschaft bei Cléry nordwestlich von Péronne. Die Somme verläuft hier in einer breiten sumpfigen Niederung zwischen flachen Hügeln. (2)Landschaft bei Arras. Das Bild ist von den Stellungen bei Beaurains aus mit der Blickrichtung von Süden nach Norden aufgenommen. (4 - 5) Die Schlacht bei Arras (6 - 7) [2 Abb.]: Das Hügelland des Artois fällt zwischen Arras und Lens mit einer deutlichen Stufe nach Westen zur flandrischen Ebene ab. Um die Abhänge bei Farbus, Vimy, Souchez, die im Herbst 1914 von den Deutschen besetzt worden waren, wurde jahrelang unter ungeheurem Einsatz von Menschen und Material gekämpft. Erst im Jahre 1917 wurden die Deutschen endgültig von den Hängen heruntergedrängt. - Blick von Liévin auf Schloß und Wald von Noulette. (2)Die Kämpfe bei Lens-Souchez, spielten sich vielfach mitten zwischen den Schachtanlagen und Geröllhalden und im Straßengewirr der Arbeiterkolonien ab. Sie erhielten dadurch ein ganz besondereres Gepräge. - Der Schacht 6, südlich von Angres. (6 - 7) [Abb.]: Marktplatz und Kirche in Lens vor dem Beginn der großen englischen Offensive beiderseits von Arras im April 1917. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der gleiche Platz nach der Schlacht, in deren Verlauf die feindlichen Linien bis unmittelbar an Lens heranrückten. (2)Die Ruinen der Schlachtanlagen mit gespenstisch in die Luft ragenden Maschinen gaben der Landschaft ihre besondere Note. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundblick auf die Lorettohöhe, einen schmalen von Südost nach Nordwest sich hinziehenden Bergrücken westlich Lens mit einer Notre Dame de Loretto genannten Wallfahrtskapelle, die vom Herbst 1914 bis zum Herbst 1915 im Brennpunkt der Kämpfe bei Arras stand. - Das Bild ist von der östlich der Lorettohöhe gelegenen Gießlerhöhe aufgenommen worden. (2)Kampfgelände vor der Siegfriedstellung, nordwestlich St. Quentin. Blick vom Standpunkt 500 m östlich St. Emilie nach Südwesten auf Villers-Faucon und Roisel. - Das Bild wurde im Mai 1918, nach der Großen Schlacht in Frankreich, aufgenommen. (10 -11) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um Schußfeld für die Stellungen zu schaffen, die seit dem Frühjahr 1917, nach der Arrasschlacht, durch den Westteil von Lens führten, wurde durch ausgedehnte Sprengungen eine breite Lücke mitten durch das Häusergewirr geschlagen. (2)Die neben den Schächten auftragenden Schlackenpyramiden wurden zu Hauptstützpunkten der Verteidigung ausgebaut. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Rathaus von Arras, mit seinem hochragenden Belfried, eine der schönsten Bauten Frankreichs, vor der Zerstörung. (2)Die Ruinen des Rathauses, nachdem Arras durch jahrelange Beschießung zum großen Teil in Trümmer gesunken war. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das zerstörte Souchez. Im Hintergrund der Hang der Lorettohöhe. (2)Sehr schwere Kämpfe spielten sich auch weiter nördlich am La-Bassée-Kanal ab. - Fliegerbild vom Kampfgelände am Kanal. (14) Die Sommeschlacht (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schwere englische Artillerie in Feuerstellung auf dem Sommeschlachtfeld. (2)Englische Munitionskolonne. Bei dem gewaltigen Munitionsverbrauch hatten die Kolonnen große Arbeit zu leisten. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Kampfgebiet an der Somme. Das Gelände ist durch das Trommelfeuer vollkommen zerstampft. Die Bodenbewachsung und - bedeckung ist ganz verschwunden. Die deutschen Gräben sind nur noch in schwachen Umrissen zu erkennen. (2)Zum Durchbruch kam es trotzdem nicht. Die deutschen Reserven setzten sich in dem Trichtergelände immer wieder fest. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eingreifdivisionen standen hinter den Kampflinien bereit, um sich dem Feind im Gegenangriff entgegenzuwerfen. (2)Kampfgelände bei Maurepas. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Wald von Thiepval, nordöstlich Albert. (2)Kampfgelände zwischen Combles und Morval. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kampfgelände bei Cléry. (2)Truppenverbandplatz hinter der Front. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Weg nach "vorn" führte an zusammengeschossenen Munitionswagen und an Toten vorbei, die das Feuer gefaßt hatte. (2)Straße in Bapaume. Die Kampflinie rückte im Laufe der Kämpfe bis dicht an die zusammengeschossene Stadt heran. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ebenso wie Baupame wurde auch Péronne während der Schlacht zerstört. Die Kathedrale fiel der Beschießung zum Opfer. (2)Englische Reserven auf dem Vormarsch zur Front. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Trümmer von Chaulnes, des südlichen Eckpunktes der deutschen Stellungen in der Sommeschlacht. (2)Platz vor der Kathedrale von Péronne. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Je tiefer die angreifenden Engländer und Franzosen in das völlig zerstörte Gelände eindrangen, um so schwieriger gestalteten sich die rückwärtigen Verbindungen. - Wegeausbesserungen hinter den englischen Stellungen bei Guillemont. (2)Als die Schlacht im November 1916 zu Ende ging, hatten die Angreifer nur einen schmalen Streifen von wenigen Kilometer Tiefe gewonnen. Dieser Raum war mit dem Blut von mehr als einer Million Toter und Verwundeter getränkt. (23) Die Siegfriedstellung (24 - 25) [3 Abb.]: (1)Noyon. Im Hintergrund die Türme der Kathedrale. Der weit nach Südwesten auspringende Bogen von Noyon wurde beim Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung aufgegeben. (2)Bei La Fère die Stellungen auf das Westufer der Oise vorgeschoben und bildeten dort einen Brückenkopf. (3)Oiselandschaft nördlich von La Fère. Das durch Flußanstauungen weithin überschwemmte Gelände gewährte den deutschen Stellungen wirksamen Schutz. (24 - 25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brand und Sprengungen in dem wenige Kilometer vor der Siegfriedstellung, westlich von La Fère, gelegenen Chauny. (2)Besonderen Wert legte man auf die Zerstörung der Bahnanlagen. - Sprengung an der Bahnstrecke Chauny - Noyon. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um dem Feind jede Unterkunftsmöglichkeit zu nehmen, mußte eine größere Anzahl an Dörfern niedergelegt werden. (2)Alles Gerät und alle Vorräte, die für die Kriegführung irgendwie von Nutzen sein konnten, werden zurückgeschafft. (27) [3 Abb.]: (1)St. Quentin im Januar 1917, also noch vor dem Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung. Die Stadt befand sich um diese Zeit in völlig unversehrtem Zustande. (2)Durch den Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung geriet St. Quentin in die vorderste Kampflinie und wurde durch die französische Beschießung allmählich zerstört. Blick auf die ausgebrannte Kathedrale. Rechts auf dem Bilde ein Einschlag. (3)Im sterbenden St. Quentin: Die Straßen verwandeln sich durch Beschießung und Brände allmählich in Schutthaufen. Im Hintergrunde des Bildes ist, von der Seite gesehen, das durch seine reiche Architektur berühmte Rathaus sichtbar. (28 - 29) Die Tankschlacht bei Cambrai. (30) [Abb.]: Feindlicher Tankhafen hinter der Front. Die mit Lagerräumen und Reparaturwerkstätten ausgestatteten Sammelstellen dienten auch als Exerzierplätze. Die Tankspuren lassen die Beweglichkeit und Wendigkeit der Tanks erkennen. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Marktplatz von Cambrai. Die Stadt wurde durch die Tankschlacht aus ihrer bisherigen Ruhe heftig aufgeschreckt. (2)Englische Tanks im Abwehrfeuer deutscher Geschütze und Minenwerfer. Ein großer Teil wurde kampfunfähig gemacht. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Durch das deutsche Abwehrfeuer kampfunfähig gemachte und liegengebliebene Tanks. - Auf der linken Bildseite ist ein in den Graben seitlich abgerutschter Tank erkennbar. Ein anderer liegt im Trichtergelände (Bildmitte). Die kreisrunde Spur auf der rechten Bildseite läßt darauf schließen, daß sich hier ein Tank völlig um seine eigene Achse gedreht hat. (2)Die schwersten Kämpfe spielten sich im Bourlonwald westlich von Cambrai ab. - Ein durch Volltreffer vernichteter Tank. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf der großen Straße Bapaume - Cambrai drangen die englischen Tanks bis Fontaine, hart westlich Cambrai, vor. (2)Tankabwehrgeschütz in Feuerstellung. - Das leichte Geschütz erwies sich bis zum Kriegsende als bestes Tankabwehrmittel. (33) Die Große Schlacht in Frankreich und die Armentières-Offensive im Frühjahr 1918 (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine gewaltige Artillerie wurde bereitgestellt, um die Verteidigung zu lähmen. - Mörserbatterie geht in Stellung. (2)Die Geheimhaltung des Angriffsplanes war von entscheidender Wichtigkeit. - Gut getarntes deutsches Langrohrgeschütz. (34) [2 Abb.]: Oben und unten: Die Wirkung des straff zusammengefaßten deutschen Artillerie- und Minenwerferfeuers war außerordentlich stark; sie reichte meist aus, um der Infanterie den Durchbruch durch die feindlichen Stellungen zu ermöglichen. (35) [2 Abb.]: Oben und unten: Dicht hinter der Infanterie überschritt ein Teil der Artillerie die feindlichen Stellungen. Es bedurfte des Einsatzes alle Kräfte, um die Geschütze über das Gewirr der Gräben und Hindernisse hinwegzubringen. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zum ersten Mal seit Herbst 1914 wurden auch die höheren Stäbe wieder beweglich. Divisionsstab auf dem Gefechtsfeld. (2)Das Kampffeld war bedeckt mit Schützenlinien und Kolonnen, die hinter dem weichenden Feind zur Verfolgung antraten. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Marschkolonne in St. Quentin. (2)In Templeux. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vor Ham. (2)Im alten Kampfgebiet der Somme. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auch die hohen Stäbe mußten schließlich ihre Quartiere nach vorn verlegen. Quartierwechsel eines Armeekommandos. (2)Tausende von Geschützen und Minenwerfer fielen in die Hand der Deutschen. Sie säumten überall die Straßenränder. (40) [Abb.]: Unendliche Massen von Muntion und Kriegsgerät, die nicht geborgen werden konnten, bedeckten das weite Schlachtfeld. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)In den eroberten englischen Magazinen fanden die ausgehungerten deutschen Soldaten reiche, hochwillkommenen Beute. (2)Auf dem Marktplatz in Ham. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die englischen Gefangenen leisteten beim Rücktransport von Verwundeten aus der Kampflinie sehr erwünschte Hilfe. (2)Rast deutscher Truppen in Bethencourt. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im eroberten Montdidier. Die Stadt, die bisher wenig gelitten hatte, geriet jetzt mitten in die Hauptkampfzone. (2In rastloser Verfolgung wurde das Sommeschlachtfeld des Jahres 1916 durchschritten. Schon gelangte der Angriff in ein Gebiet, das bisher vom Kampf noch kaum berührt war. - Kampfgelände bei Moreuil an der Avre, südöstlich Amiens. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Au & Noyon kam wieder in den Bereich der Kämpfe. Die herrliche Kathedrale geriet durch das Artilleriefeuer in Brand. (2)Endlich erlahmte die Kraft des deutschen Vormarsches an dem wachsenden Widerstand der in der letzten Minute unter den einheitlichen Oberbefehl Generals Foch gestellten feindlichen Armeen. - Der blutige Weg, der von St. Quentin bis dicht an Amiens herangeführt hatte, endete schließlich doch wieder in der hoffnungslosen Öde des Stellungskrieges. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Bereitstellung der Truppen und das erste Vorgehen litten unter der Ungunst des tiefliegenden Angriffsgeländes. (2)Das während des Angriffs vergaste Armentières wurde am 11. April besetzt. - Deutsche Truppen auf dem Marktpatz. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mitten zwischen den Häuserreihen der Stadt hatten die Engländer ihre sehr geschickt getarnten Batterien aufgestellt. (2)Estaires und Bailleut konnten noch genommen werden. Dann erlahmte die Offensive. - Fliegeraufnahme von Estaires. (47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Neue Dörfer sind emporgewachsen. Freundlich, als wüßten sie nichts mehr vom Krieg, grüßen sie aus der Landschaft. (2)Das Kriegsgerät findet heute vielfach Verwendung: Bunker dienen als Keller, Wellblechbaracken als Ställe. (48) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der eine deutsche Kriegerfriedhof auf der Vimyhöhe trägt schlichte schwarze Holzkreuze für 41 000 Gefallene. (2)Gegnüber leuchten in unendlichen Reihen die weißen Grabsteine der in fremder Erde ruhenden Söhne Großbritanniens. (49) [Abb.]: Das Ehrenmal, das deutsche Soldaten im Kriege ihren toten Kameraden in St. Quentin errichteten, steht nicht mehr. Aber die Dankbarkeit des Vaterlandes ist den an der Somme und Arras gebliebenen Söhnen gewiß. (50) [3 Karten]: (1)Somme-Aisne (2)Die Kämpfe bei Arras (3)Der französ.-engl. Angriff an der Somme 1916 ( - ) Die Aisne - Champagne - Front ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Die Kathedrale von Reims, eine der schönsten gotischen Kirchen Frankreichs, seit dem 12. Jahrhundert Krönungsstätte der französischen Könige, wurde im Weltkrieg durch Beschießung und Brand schwer beschädigt. Sie wird in ihrer alten Gestalt wieder hergestellt. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Dinant. Auf steilem Felsen über dem Fluß liegt die veraltete Zitadelle, an ihrem Fuß erhebt sich die Kathedrale. (2)Givet. Die auf dem Westufer der Maas gelegenen Befestigungen ergaben sich rasch nach Einsatz schwerer Geschütze. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sedan. Die Maashöhen beiderseits der Stadt konnten am 25. August 1914 erst nach hartem Gefecht genommen werden. (2)Charleville. Die Doppelstadt Charleville-Mézières war später jahrelang Sitz der deutschen Obersten Heeresleitung. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Marsch der 3. Armee führte über Rethel. Die Stadt wurde teilweise zerstört. Die Kathedrale blieb unversehrt. (2)Die Festung Reims bereitete keinerlei Aufenthalt. - Rastende deutsche Truppen auf dem Platz vor der Kathedrale. (4) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die 4. Armee marschierte westlich der Argonnen über Vouziers. - Die Stadt wurde im letzten Kriegsjahr halb zerstört. (2)Am Schicksalsfluß, der Marne, wandte sich das Kriegsglück. Marnelandschaft zwischen Château Thierry und Epernay. (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Rundbildaufnahme vom Ostrand des Argonner Waldes. Blickrichtung von Norden nach Süden. Am unteren Bildrand sind die durch die Kämpfe hervorgerufenen, quer durch den Wald sich hinziehenden Verwüstungen deutlich zu erkennen. (2)Um den steil über das umliegende Gelände emporragenden Vauquois, am Ostrand der Argonnen, wurde besonders heftig gekämpft. - Das Bild ist vom Westrand des Cheppywaldes aus aufgenommen. (3)Der Minenkrieg spielte in den Kämpfen um den Vauquois eine besondere Rolle. Der Gipfel des Berges war durch eine Kette der Minensprengungen vollkommen zerrissen. (6 -7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Varennes. - In dem wenige Kilometer hinter der Front gelegenen Städtchen liefen die Hauptverbindungen östlich der Argonnen zusammen. Es war auch Ausgangspunkt der wichtigsten Querstraße durch die Argonnen. (2)Ein gewaltiges Denkmal erinnert heute in Varennes an den amerikanischen Angriff zwischen den Argonnen und Verdun, der im Rahmen der allgemeinen Offensive der Entente hier im Herbst 1918 begann. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Außerhalb der wenigen Dörfer finden sich in dem Waldgebiet der Argonnen kaum irgendwelche menschlichen Ansiedlungen. Um einige in der Kampffront liegende Jagdhütten, "Pavillons" genannt, wurde besonders heftig gekämpft. (2)Französische Stellung am Bagatelle-Pavillon. Das ungemein dichte Unterholz in den Argonnen verlangte schärfste Aufmerksamkeit gegen überraschende Angriffe. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Laufgräben im Minen- und Sprengtrichtergelände des Argonner Waldes. (2)Deutsche Reserven hinter der Front in Gegend Binarville. Unmittelbar neben dem Lager war ein Kriegerfriedhof. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Besondere Sorgfalt mußte in dem stets feuchten Waldgelände auf den Bau guter Wege verwendet werden. - Die "Halberstädter Straße". (2)Der Weiler Le Four de Paris, eine wichtige Straßenkreuzung im Biesmetal, war Hauptziel der deutschen Angriffe. (11) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Aufgemauerte Stellung. - Die Aufnahme zeigt, mit welcher Sorgfalt die Gräben im Argonnerwald im Laufe der Jahre ausgebaut wurden. - (2)Unten: Hinter den französischen Linien: Quartierleben in einem halbzerstörten Dorf. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Heute deckt frisches Grün das Kampfgelände in den Argonnen. Der breite Streifen der Kampfzone ist an den jungen Baumbeständen noch deutlich sichtbar. Jahrzehnte werden vergeben, bis die Narben verheilt sind und der Wald wieder ein gleichmäßiges Bild zeigt. Einzelne abgestorbene Bäume erinnern noch an das Grauen des Krieges. (2)Geht man wenige Schritte vom Weg ab, dann birgt sich unter dem üppigen Wuchs der Pflanzen und Sträucher ein fast undurchdringliches Gewirr von Gräben, Draht, Betondrümmer und Esienstangen. Es scheint bisweilen, als hätten die Truppen dieses Gelände erst vor wenigen Monaten verlassen. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Kampfgelände zwischen Moronvilliers und St. Souplet. - (2)Unten: Französische Reservestellungen bei Perthes. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Champagnelandschaft. Das Bild zeigt die Umgebung des aus den Heeresberichten bekannten Ortes Somme Py. (2)Der Stützpunkt "Ulm" bei Souain, wo den Franzosen in der Herbstschlacht in der Champagne ein Einbruch gelang. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Champagnerkämpfe: Luftbild vom Vorgehen französischer Reserven durch die Annäherungswege in den vordersten Linien. (2)Französisches Artilleriefeuer im Kampfgelände bei Souain. Die Sturmtruppen warten auf den Befehl zum Angriff. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Betonblockhaus am Mont Cornillet, der die Hügelkette Pöhlberg-Keilberg-Hochberg nach Westen zu abschließt. (2)Die gleiche Gegend im Jahr 1935. Die Landschaft zeigt auch heute, nach zwanzig Jahren, noch ein Bild der Verwüstung. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild aus Gegend nordwestlich Moronvilliers (etwa 15 km östlich Reims) nach Süden auf das Höhengelände des Poehlberges, Keilbergs und Hochbergs. Diese beherrschenden Höhen gingen in den Kämpfen im Frühjahr 1917 zum Teil an die Franzosen verloren. (2)Eine wichtige Rolle, besonders für die Artillerie, spielte weiter östlich bei Rouvroy-Massiges der Kanonenberg. - Das Bild ist vom Ballon nördlich Rouvroy mit dem Blick nach Süden aufgenommen und umfaßt den Raum von Minaucourt bis Ville sur Tourbe. (18 - 19) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick aus Gegend Berru, östlich Reims, auf die Stadt. Im Vordergrund vor dem Wald ist ein Teil der Stellungen sichtbar. Hinter der Stadt steigen die Höhen des Reimser Bergwaldes empor, die ein nicht erreichtes Ziel der deutschen Offensive im Juli 1918 bildeten. (2)Das brennende Reims. - Der größte Teil der Stadt sowie die Kathedrale wurden durch die Kampfereignisse zerstört. (3)Fort Brimont nordöstlich Reims. Von hier aus verliefen die Stellungen hinter dem Aisne-Marnekanal auf Berry-au-Bac. (20 - 21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von den Höhen bei Crouy auf Soissons. Die Stadt lag ebenso wie Reims dicht vor den deutschen Linien und wurde stark zerstört. Im März 1917, bei dem Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung, wurden die deutschen Linien hier bis Lauffaux zurückverlegt. (2)Rundbild von Höhe 109 nördlich Vailly auf das Aisnetal und die gegenüberliegenden Höhen. Dieser Teil des Kampffeldes ging bei der großen Nivelleoffensive im Frühjahr verloren. (22 - 23) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bis zum Frühjahr 1915 wies das hochgelegene Craonne, wie das Bild zeigt, nur ziemlich geringe Beschädigungen auf. (2)Zwei Jahre später, in der französischen Offensive im Frühjahr 1917, mußte es von den Deutschen preisgegeben werden. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das berühmte Schloß Coucy le Château, nördlich Soissons, galt als eine der schönsten Burgruinen Frankreichs. Es mußte im Frühjahr 1917 gelegentlich des Rückzugs in die Siegfriedstellung aus taktischen Gründen niedergelegt werden. (2)Als im Sommer des Jahres 1918, während der Schlacht bei Soissons und Reims, der Chemin des Dames von den Deutschen zurückerobert wurde, kündeten nur noch schwache Mauerreste von den Dörfern Craonne und La Ville-aux-Bois. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Filain, am Nordhang des Chemin des Dames, das im Verlauf der Kämpfe des Jahres 1917/18 völlig zerstört wurde. (2)Blick auf die im Mai 1918 von den Deutschen gestürmten englischen Stellungen am Aisne-Kanal und bei Berry-au-Bac. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick vom nordöstlichen Ufer der Ailette nach Süden auf den von den Deutschen Ende 1917 geräumten Chemin des Dames. (2)An den Abhängen des Chemin des Dames führen Steinbrüche tief in das Innere des Berges hinein. Die Höhlen, in denen ganze Bataillone und Regimenter Platz fanden, bildeten bombensichere Unterkunftsräume für die Kampfreserven. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fernaufnahme vom Chemin des Dames aus nach Norden auf das hochgelegene Laon mit seiner mächtigen Kathedrale. (2)Blick von den Höhen bei Chermizy, nördlich der Ailette, aus auf den Chemin des Dames zwischen Cerny und La Creute. (28 - 29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Sturmtruppen überschreiten auf Schnellbrücken den Ailettebach und stellen sich am Südufer zum Angriff bereit. (2)Offiziere beobachten von der Höhe nördlich Berry-au-Bac das Vorgehen der vordersten Angriffslinien gegen die Aisne. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vor dem Befehl zum Antreten. (2)Der Sturmangriff: Die ersten Gefangenen. - Eines jener nicht häufigen Bilder, die in der vordersten Linie während des Sturmes aufgenommen sind, an die daher in technischer Hinsicht keine großen Ansprüche gestellt werden können. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vorgehen deutscher Infanterie über den Chemin des Dames. - Ohne Aufenthalt erreichte die Strumgruppe das Aisnetal. (2)Ein Maschinengewehrtrupp eilt im Laufschritt zum jenseitigen Rand eines eben eroberten Dorfes. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Angriff unter dem Schutz von Nebelbomben auf ein vorher von der eigenen Artillerie sturmreif geschossenes Dorf. (2)Auf dem Weg zur Marne. - Vormarsch durch zerstörtes Gelände. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aus dem Angriffsgelände bei Berry-au-Bac: deutsche Minenwerfer überschreiten die vordersten englischen Stellungen. (2)DerWinterberg bei Craonne nach dem Sturm. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Reserven marschieren durch Craonelle (südlich Craonne), einen Hauptkampfpunkt auf dem Chemin des Dames. (2)Am Winterberg. (35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Verluste des Feindes waren schwer. Lange Züge Gefangener wurden zurückgebracht. (2)Zusammengeschossene französische Artillerie. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Feldlazarett im Schloß Pinon nördlich von Laffaux. (2)Ein Teil der Einwohner der Kampfzone war in den halbzerstörten Häusern geblieben. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Stimmung der Truppe war glänzend. Sie glaubte, diesmal sei die Entscheidung errungen. (2)Die Schnelligkeit des deutschen Vormarsches hatte die gründliche zerstörung der Brücken verhindert. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im eroberten Soissons. Schwere Brände wüteten in den Ruinen der Stadt. (2)Auf dem Kirchplatz in Cormicy, südwestlich von Berry-au-Bac. (39) [Abb.]: Immer größer wurde die Beute an Gefangenen und Kriegsmaterial. Gefangenentransport in der Zitadelle von Laon. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Am Abend des ersten Angriffstages standen die deutschen Truppen in Fismes an der Vesle. (2)Kurze Rast. - Die Anstrengungen der Truppen, die teilweise über 25 km zurückgelegt hatten, war außerordentlich. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auch an der Vesle vermochten die Franzosen sich nicht zu halten. Die Verfolgung ging südlich des Flusses weiter. (2)Divisionsstab auf dem Gefechtsstand. (42) [2 Abb]: (1)Hinter der Kampffront: Der Verwundetentransport nach der Verwundetensammelstelle erfolgte oft durch Gefangene. (2)Schwere Batterie auf dem Vormarsch. (43) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von den Höhen bei Troissy am Südufer der Marne auf das Nordufer. An dieser Stelle erzwangen deutsche Truppen im Verlauf der mit einem Mißerfolg endenden letzten deutschen Offensive beiderseits Reims im Juli 1918 den Übergang über den Fluß. (2)Vincelles an der Marne im feindlichen Artilleriefeuer. Hinter dem Dorf ist die Marne sichtbar. (3)Auf der Straße nach Château Thierry. (44 - 45) [Abb.]: Auf dem Chemin des Dames erinnern heute nur noch wenige Trümmer an den Krieg. - Betonklotz im Fort de Malmaison. (46) [2 Karten]: Aisne und Champagne. (1)Aisne: (2)Champagne: ( - ) [Karte]: Nordfrankreich ( - ) Der Kampfraum Verdun ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Die lothringische Landschaft (1) [Abb.]: Umgebung von Dieuze. In dieser Landschaft spielte sich im August 1914 die Lothringer Schlacht ab. - Hinter der Stadt (Mitte) ist der Linderweiher erkennbar. Am Horizont die Vogesen. - Dieuze war vor dem Kriege Grenzgarnison. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mörchingen, an der Bahn Salzburg - Metz. Auch dieses Gelände zeigt die charakteristischen Merkmale der lothringischen Landschaft: Flache, weitgestreckte Hügel, Waldparzellen zwischen den Feldern und Wiesen, spärliche Besiedlung. (2)Der Gedanke, Frankreich durch einen Gürtel von Befestigungen abzuschließen, ist alt. Marsal ist eine der vielen unter Ludwig XIV. erbauten Grenzfestungen, die schon längst vor dem Weltkrieg ihren militärischen Wert völlig verloren hatten. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)An der elsaß-lothringischen Grenze stießen die Grenzkorps frühzeitig aufeinander. Bei dem am Rhein - Marne-Kanal liegenden Lagarde erfochten preußische und bayerische Truppen am 11. August 1914 einen der ersten deutschen Siege. (2)Im südlichen Teil der lothringischen Front zogen sich die Stellungen in den Nordausläufern der französischen Vogesen von Blâmont über Badonviller nach Moyenmoutier. - Vorgeschobener deutscher Posten in den französischen Nordvogesen. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lothringen war ein römisches Siedlungsland. - Reste der nach Metz führenden alten Wasserleitung in Jouy aux Arches. (2)Das Moseltal zwischen Ars und Metz. Das Bild läßt die Lage von Metz zwischen den zu beiden Seiten des Flusses ansteigenden Höhen erkennen, die die alten Befestigungen trugen. Die modernen Werke lagen in weiter Entfernung der Stadt. (4) Der Mihielbogen (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Landschaft bei Pont à Mousson. Das Bild vom heiß umkämpften Priesterwald nordwestlich der Stadt aufgenommen. (2)Über Pont à Mousson erhebt sich steil und beherrschend die Moussonhöhe, ein Wahrzeichen der dortigen Landschaft. (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Kampfgelände im Priesterwald. Im Hintergrund zwischen den Bäumen ist das Moseltal bei Pont à Mousson erkennbar. Auf der linken Bildseite der Moussonberg. (2)Am Wald von Apremont. Das Gelände zeigt hier bereits die für die Côtes Lorraines eigentümlichen Bergvorsprünge. (3)Mörserstellung bei St. Mihiel. Das den felsigen Boden bedeckende Gestrüpp erleichterte die Maskierung der Geschütze. (6 - 7) [2 Abb.]: (1)St. Mihiel. Die deutschen Stellungen reichten nur in einer ganz schmalen Ausbuchtung auf das westliche Maasufer hinüber. (2)Das auf dem Ostufer der Maas über St. Mihiel gelegene Sperrfort Camp des Romains wurde nach kurzer Beschießung aus schwerem Geschütz von den Bayern im Handstreich genommen, eine der glänzendsten Waffentaten des Weltkrieges. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die auf das westliche Maasufer vorgeschobene Stellung konnte bis zum Herbst 1918 behauptet werden - Auf den Höhen im Hintergrunde liegt das Nachbarsperrfort Les Paroches, vor dem der Vorstoß im Herbst 1914 zum Stehen kam. (2)Die Festung Toul, 20 Kilometer südlich der Südfront des Mihielbogens gelegen, geriet nie in den unmittelbaren Bereich der Kämpfe. - Die Fliegeraufnahme zeigt das Stadtbild im Rahmen der alten Vaubanschen Stadtbefestigungen. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf einem der zahlreichen Bergvorsprünge der Côte liegt Hattonchâtel. Das Bild gibt den Blick nach Süden. Im Vordergrund Vigneulles. Der einzelne Berg im Hintergrund ist der in den Kämpfen um den Mihielbogen oft genannte Mont Sec. (2)Das die Ebene weithin beherrschende Hattonchâtel fiel den Bayern im September 1914 ohne ernste Kämpfe in die Hände. Die Baulichkeiten weisen weit in die Vergangenheit zurück. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Thiaucourt, halbwegs zwischen St. Mihiel und Metz in der Ebene gelegen, war der Hauptverkehrspunkt des Mihielbogens. (2)Pannes bei Flirey. Typ eines französisch-lothringischen Bauernhofs romanischer Bauart: Breite Straßen, eng aneinandergebaute Häuser, flache Dächer. (11) [3 Abb.]: (1)Die Combreshöhe vom Westausgang des Dorfes Saulx, also aus genau östlicher Richtung gesehen. Die deutschen Stellungen lagen auf dem Kamm und führten von "Combres Ost" in die Ebene hinab. Der Montgirmont war in französischem Besitz. - Jeder Fußbreit Boden war hier von größter Bedeutung. (2)Senkrechte Fliegeraufnahme der Höhe Combres Ost und des Dorfes Combres. Die Kämpfe um den Berg fanden auf den Nordwesthängen statt. Hier liegen auch die von den deutschen und französischen Sprengungen herrührenden Minentrichter. (3)Schräge Fliegeraufnahme der Combreshöhe im Augenblick einer Minensprengung. Die Eingänge der Sprengstellen führenden Minenstollen liegen, wie auf dem Bild erkennbar ist, auf dem diesseitigen Hange der Höhe. (12 - 13) Die Woëvre-Ebene. (14 - 15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbildaufnahme der Côte von Broville, 5 km westlich Etain aus gesehen. Der Ausschnitt umfaßt den Höhenrand zwischen der waldigen Kuppe des Hardaumont und der Straße Etain - Verdun. Die Aufnahme ist nach Abschluß der großen Verdunkämpfe im Mai 1917 gemacht. - Man blickt in das teifeingeschnittene, zwischen den Forts Douaumont und Vaux gelegene Vauxtal, um dessen Besitz im Jahr 1916 monatelang mit unvorstellbarer Erbitterung gekämpft wurde. (2)Dieser ganz der Woëvre-Ebene zugeordnete Abschnitt lag außerhalb der entscheidenden Kämpfe. Die beherrschende Lage der Côtes wird hier deutlich erkennbar. (14 - 15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Etain bildet den Mittelpunkt des nordöstlichen Woëvre-Gebiets. Es wurde im Laufe des Krieges fast völlig zerstört. (2)In den Dörfern wenige Kilometer hinter der Kampffront atmete die Landschaft eine fast unwahrscheinliche Ruhe. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Constans, ein Etappenort zwischen Etain und Metz. - Der Posten übt, wie das neben dem Schilderhaus erkennbare Schild "Hat" zeigt, die den rückwärtigen Gebieten oft sehr notwendige Kontrolle über den Kraftwagenverkehr aus. (2)Briey. Seine Besetzung durch die Deutschen bedeutete einen schweren Verlust für die französische Kriegswirtschaft. (17) Die Nordostfront von Verdun (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die kleine Festung Longwy bildete neben Briey den Mittelpunkt des französisch-lothringischen Erzgebietes. Hier erfocht die 5. Armee ihren ersten Sieg. Die veralteten Befestigungen fielen nach kurzer Beschießung in deutsche Hand. (2)Montmédy, einer der wichtigsten Etappenorte an der Nordfront, war angefüllt mit Einrichtungen der Heeresverwaltung. Das auf die Straße verlegte Eisenbahngleis diente zur Umgehung des von den Franzosen gesprengten Eisenbahntunnels. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Dun, malerisch am rechten Ufer der Maas nördlich von Verdun gelegen, war ein wichtiger Übergangspunkt für den Verkehr der Truppen und Kolonnen zwischen den beiden Maasufern. (2)Das nahe hinter der Front gelegene Städtchen Marville bedeutete für zahlreiche Verdunkämpfer eine Erinnerung. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Moirey, südlich Damvillers, lag in der Kampfzone vor Beginn der großen Kämpfe des Jahres 1916. Im Hintergrund der Gündelberg, der als günstiger Beobachtungsposten eine Rolle spielte. (2)Straße in dem ebenfalls am Fuße des Gündelberges gelegenen Dorfe Chaumont. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die unzähligen Verdunkämpfer bekannte Straßenkreuzung in Ville; von hier zweigten mehrere Wege nach vorn ab. (2)Deutsche Truppenlager am Berge Morimont unweit des am Rande der Woëvreebene gelgene Romagne sous les Côtes. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brabant an der Maas. Hier ging im Februar 1916 der rechte Flügel des deutschen Angriffs vor. (2)Französische Gefangene aus den Verdun-Kämpfen. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Flabas, ein etwa in der Mitte der Angriffsfront liegender Ort. (2)Auf der anderen Seite: Rastende französische Truppe im Kampfgelände von Verdun. (23) [Abb.]: Verdun war die erste der großen Materialschlachten des Weltkrieges, bei denen durch Masseneinsatz von Artillerie die Entscheidung erzwungen werden sollte. Alle Geschützarten, von der Schützengrabenkolonne bis zum großkalibrigen, weittragenden Eisenbahngeschütz, gelangten hier zum Einsatz. - 21-cm-Mörser unmittelbar nach dem Abfeuern. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Am 21. Februar 1916 drangen die deutschen Sturmtruppen in glänzendem Anlauf tief in die feindlichen Stellungen ein. (2)Gegen die Durchschlagskraft der schweren Kaliber schützten die stärksten Eindeckungen nichts: Ein Volltreffer in einen mit dicken Stämmen eingedeckten Unterstand. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Wälder in der Kampfzone wurden fast völlig vernichtet. Nur einzelne Baumstümpfe blieben übrig. - Der Chaumewald am Südrand der Ornesschlucht. (2)Die im nördlichen Teil des Angriffsgebietes liegenden Ortschaften wurden im ersten Angriff rasch durchschritten. Hier blieben wenigstens noch Trümmer stehen. - Kirche in Ornes, die in ihrem damaligen Zustand bis heute belassen ist. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das weit ins Hinterland reichende Feuer der Fernkampfgeschütze erfaßte mehrfach Munitionszüge. Die Munitionsvorräte wurden hierbei meist vernichtet. (2)In der Wüste des Schlachtfeldes blieben mitunter durch merkwürdigen Zufall einzelne Heiligenbilder unversehrt. Da die Soldaten stets eifrig bemüht waren, sie zu erhalten, standen manche von ihnen noch am Ende des Krieges. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben und unten: Von Ornes aus zieht sich die Ornesschlucht in das Kampfgelände nach Westen. Auf dem von Granaten zerwühlten Talgrund entstand ein Schlammboden, der stellenweise nur noch auf Brückenstegen überschritten werden konnte. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Vauxkreuzschlucht führt von Ornes nach Südwesten zu einer auf der Landkarte als "Vauxkreuz" bezeichneten Höhe. (2)Grémilly, am Rande der Côtes gelegen. Von hier aus etwa ging der linke Flügel des Angriffs im Februar 1916 vor. (29) Douaumont und Vaux. (30 - 31) [3 Abb.]: (1)Französische Aufnahme des Douaumont von Südwesten her. Das Fort ist durch das Feuer schon fast unkenntlich geworden. (2)Trümmer des in der Mitte des Angriffsfeldes gelegenen Ortes Louvemont, der längere Zeit heiß umkämpft war. (3)Blick vom Douaumont in südwestlicher Richtung nach Thiaumont und Froide Terre. Das Bild ist während der Beschießung unter erschwerten Umständen aufgenommen. Es gibt trotz technischer Mängel einen unmittelbaren Eindruck des Kampfgeländes. (30 - 31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Fort Douaumont, wie es der Flieger Anfang 1916 sah, zu einer Zeit, als die Schlacht noch nicht begonnen hatte. (2)Eine spätere Aufnahme des Forts Douaumont, nachdem bereits monatelang das schwerste Feuer auf ihm gelegen hatte. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Französische Aufnahme des Forts Douaumont vom Beginn des Jahres 1916. Man sieht die noch gut erhaltene Kehlkaserne. Links im Schatten der innere Graben. Auf dessen Grunde liegt die durch einen Tunnel in das Fort führende Einfahrt. (2)Blick vom östlichen (rechten) Schulterpunkt des Forts Douaumont in den auf der rechten Flanke entlang führenden Graben. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild von der Höhe 378 östlich Louvemont auf einen Teil der Forts der Nordostfront. Man sieht von rechts nach links das erst später eroberte Zwischenwerk Thiaumont auf der Côte de Froide Terre; dann das mehrere Kilometer südlich liegende Fort zweiter Linie Souville, schließlich das Dorf und Fort Douaumont. Das Bild ist nach der Schlacht von Verdun im Frühjahr 1917 aufgenommen. (2)Anfang März griffen die Kämpfe auch auf das westliche Maasufer über. Das von Höhe 165 am Westufer der Maas, östlich des Cumieres Waldes, aufgenommene Rundbild gibt einen Überblick über das Hauptkampfgelände auf dem Westufer: Cumières-Wald- (rechts) - Toter Mann - Wälder zwischen Avaucourt und Béthelainville (Hessenwald). Im Vordergrunde das Maastal. (34 - 35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Deutsche Soldaten im Hauptgang des Untergeschosses des Fort Douaumont. Das Bild gibt eine Vorstellung davon, unter welchen Umständen die Fortbesetzung zu Ruhe und Schlaf gelangte. (2)Unten: Französisches Geschütz zur Bestreichung des Grabens der linken Flanke im Fort Douaumont. Die Mauer nach dem Graben zu ist teilweise zerstört. Im Dunkel des Hintergrundes liegt der Eingang zu einem anschließenden Hohlraum. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutscher M. G.-Schütze an einem französischen Maschinengewehr in einer der Grabenstreichen des Forts Douaumont. Der Mann hat es sich auf seinem gefährlichen Sitz, auf dem er in schärfster Anspannung stundenlang hocken muß, so bequem wie möglich gemacht; Munition und Verpflegung sind in ausreichenden Mengen rings um ihn aufgebaut. (2)Unten: Als die Franzosen im Herbst 1916 bei Verdun zur Gegenoffensive schritten, gelang es ihnen, das Fort Douaumont zurückzuerobern. - Das aus dem Januar 1917 stammende französische Bild zeigt, daß die Kämpfe um das Fort um diese Zeit endgültig abgeschlossen waren und daß bereits wieder ein regelrechter Kantinenbetrieb in ihm stattfand. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Kasemattenraum im Fort Douaumont (heutiger Zustand), in dem durch eine gewaltige Handgranatenexplosion am 8. Mai 1916 hunderte von deutschen Soldaten ums Leben kamen. Das es unmöglich war, die Toten im Fort regelrecht zu begraben, beließ man sie im Hohlraum und mauerte dessen Zugänge zu (2)Das Fort Douaumont im Jahre 1917 nach Abschluß der Kämpfe. Die Umrisse des Forts sind nur noch schwach zu erkennen. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Nicht weniger heiß umstritten als der Douaumont war das Fort Vaux, das durch seine Lage als Eckpunkt der Nordfront und der Ostfront von Verdun besondere Bedeutung besaß. Das Bild gibt das Gelände am Rande der Côtes vom Fort Vaux (links oben) über die "Hohe Batterie" (Mitte) bis zum Zwischenwerk Lauffée (rechts unten) (2)Die Rückseite des Forts Vaux im März 1917, nach seiner Wiedereinnahme durch die Franzosen. Die auf dem Bild erkennbare gewaltige Stärke der Betondecke macht es erklärlich, daß die Wirkung der schwersten Geschosse hier versagte. (39) [Abb.]: In dem Fort Vaux war eine Art Kapelle eingerichtet, die man in ihrem damaligen Zustande bis heute erhalten hat. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fliegeraufnahme der Vaux-Schlucht (vergl. auch die Bilder auf S. 26/27), die sich zwischen den Douaumont und dem Fort Vaux hinzieht. Sie gehört zu den blutigsten Kampffeldern des Weltkrieges. - Von dem verschwundenen Dorf Vaux (rechte untere Ecke) führt die Schlucht zum Vaux-Teich und gabelt sich hier in mehrere Seitentäler, an deren Hängen Waldstücke lagen: der Caillette-Wald (oben rechts), der Chapitre-Wald oben links), das Fumin-Wäldchen (unten links). (2)Die Vaux-Schlucht in ihrem heutigen Zustand. Im Vordergrund der Vaux-Teich. Die Trichter sind völlig zugewachsen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Dorf Fleury (Bildmitte), das nach schweren Kämpfen erst Ende Juni erobert wurde, bildete ungefähr den äußersten von den Deutschen in der Verdunoffensive 1916 erreichten Punkt. - Die auf der rechten Bildseite nach rechts oben zusammenlaufenden Mulden umschließen den Chapitre-Wald und endigen in ihrem weiteren Verlauf in der Vaux-Schlucht. (2)Das Fort Tavannes, südlich von Fort Vaux, lag bereits an der äußersten Grenze der Hauptkampfzone. Sein Zustand zu Beginn des Jahres 1917 läßt erkennen, daß es nicht so im Brennpunkt der Kämpfe stand, wie Douaumont und Vaux. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fliegeraufnahme von Verdun. Die Stadt war halb zerstört. Die alten Vaubanschen Befestigungsanlagen treten deutlich hervor. - Verdun und seine Umgebung gilt seit den Kämpfen des Jahres 1916 den Franzosen als heiliger Bezirk. (2)Kronprinz Wilhelm, der als Oberbefehlshaber der 5. Armee die Verdunkämpfe befehligte, im Gespräch mit Verwundeten. (43) Das westliche Maasufer (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oberes Bild: Im Rabenwald östlich vom Toten Mann. (2)Unten: Das Dorf Malancourt auf dem westlichen Maasufer, das im März 1916 gegen zäheste französische Verteidigung genommen wurde. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Montfaucon bot einen glänzenden Überblick über die Nordwestfront von Verdun zwischen den Argonnen und der Maas. Es war hier der wichtigste Beobachtungspunkt der deutschen Artillerie. - Kirche von Montfaucon im Oktober 1915. (2)Der Ort Montfaucon nach seiner Eroberung durch amerikanische Truppen während der Herbstoffensive der Entente 1918. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Inmitten grüner Wiesen starren dem Wanderer die dunklen Schießscharten mächtiger Maschinengewehrstände entgegen. (2)Die Combreshöhen, wie man sie heute sieht. Die Gipfel sind noch immer zerrissen durch die riesigen Minentrichter. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Lage der einstigen blühenden Ortschaft Fleury ist heute nur noch durch ein einfaches Denkmal zu erkennen. (2)Gedenkhalle über dem "Graben der Bajonette" bei Fort Douaumont, in dem eine ganze französische Kompanie verschüttet wurde, deren Bajonette aus der Erde ragen. - Dieser Graben gilt als heiliges Symbol der Verdunkämpfe. (47) [Abb.]: Wie friedliche Teiche und Tümpel wirken heute die Granattrichter auf den Höhen rings um Verdun, ganz überwuchert von Gebüsch, Gras und Schilf. Aber noch viele Jahrzehnte werden sie ein Mahnzeichen sein für die Toten von Verdun. (48) [2 Karten]: (1Chamapagne-Woëvre (2)Verdun ( - ) Vogesenkrieg ( - ) Vogesenkrieg ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Das Staßburger Münster, ein Meisterwerk deutscher Gotik. - Straßburg, nach Metz die stärkste Festung an der Westgrenze, blieb im Weltkrieg von den Kriegsvorgängen fast unberührt. Die mehrfachen Einfälle der Franzosen in das Oberelsaß gelangten nicht bis zum Bereich der Festungsgeschütze. - Als Landeshauptstadt und Hauptetappenort war die Stadt fast allen deutschen Soldaten, die im Elsaß gekämpft haben, wohlbekannt. (15) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Ebene aus gegen die Hohkönigsburg. Im Vordergrund der Flugplatz. - Die Hohkönigsburg, eine der schönsten Burgen des Elsaß, mit mächtigem Bergfried, liegt westlich von Schlettstadt auf einem steil emporragenden Bergkegel. Einst Hohenstaufenburg, wurde die Hohkönigsburg im Dreißigjährigen Krieg von den Schweden zerstört. 1901 wurde im Auftrag Kaiser Wilhelms mit ihrem Wiederaufbau begonnen. Zu Beginn des Weltkrieges war sie in ihrem ursprünglichen Zustand völlig wieder hergestellt. (2)Deutsche Vogesenlandschaft in Gegend Markirch. Die Vogesen verlaufen in einer nur durch wenige Einsenkungen und Paßübergänge unterbrochenen Kette langgestreckter Kämme aus verwittertem Granit, die sich von Süden nach Norden hinziehen. Von ihnen abzweigende Seitenkämme bilden nach der Rheinebene zu tief eingeschnittene Täler. (3)Blick vom Hartmannsweilerkopf in die Rheinebene. - Die Vogesen fallen nach dem Rheintal ziemlich steil ab. Der untere Teil der Berghänge ist bedeckt mit Weinbergen; dahinter liegt eine fruchtbare Landschaft mit Ackerbau und Laubwäldern, durchströmt vom Rhein (im oberen Bilddrittel als seine Linie erkennbar). Jenseits die Schwarzwaldberge. (16 - 17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Elsässisches Bauerndorf alemannischer Bauart: Dorfstraße in dem durch das Jugenderlebnis Goethes berühmt gewordenen Sesenheim, unweit Straßburg. Einzelstehende Gehöfte, von Gärten umgeben; Fachwerkbau und herabgezogene Dächer (2)Zum Vergleich ein lothringisches Bauerndorf (Autrepierre) typisch romanischer Bauart: Breite Straße mit geschlossenen Häuserfronten; reiner Steinbau. Wohn- und Wirtschaftsräume unter einem einzigen, flach geneigten Dach. Fehlen von Vorgärten, statt dessen häufig vor den Häusern die Dungablagerung. Rundgewölbte Torbögen führen zum Stall und zum Hof. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Elsässische Landstadt deutscher Bauart: Marktplatz in Oberehnheim (Unterelsaß. - Ein mittelalterliches Stadtbild mit Erkern und Türmchen, mit spitzgiebeligen steilen Dächern und schönem Brunnen. Die staatlichen Häuser lassen auf den ehemaligen Reichtum Oberehnheims schließen, das, wie viele andere dieser elsässischen Landstädtchen, schon zur Stauferzeit freie Reichsstadt war. (2)Zum Unterschied eine lothringische Landschaft in charakteristisch romanischer Bauart: Blaâmont in den französischen Vogesen. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf Patrouillenritt. (2)Unten: Infanteriepatrouille im Vormarsch an den Berghängen des Münstertals bei Drei-Ahren, westlich Colmar. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Infanterie verfolgt den in die Vogesen zurückgeworfenen Feind. (2)Unten: Artillerie im Vormarsch auf einer Vogesenstraße. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Längs der deutsch-schweizerischen Grenze führte ein elektrisch geladener Drahtzaun von der Gegend von Nieder- und Obersept zum Rhein nördlich Basel. (2)Unten Eroberte französische Gräben bei Niedersept. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Altkirch, südwestlich Mühlhausen. Das altertümliche Städtchen lag nur wenige Kilometer hinter den deutschen Stellungen. (2)Unten: Kirche von Nieder-Aspach. (23) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Der Übergang von der Burgundischen Pforte zu den Südvogesen. Charakteristisch auch hier das unvermittelte Ansteigen des Gebirges aus der Ebene. (2)Unten: Auf den Berghängen hinter Altthann überhöhten die rückwärtigen Stellungen der Franzosen die deutschen Gräben. (3)Unten: Die Stadt Thann, Hauptort des Thurtales, mit gotischem Münster lag bereits hinter den französischen Stellungen. (24 - 25) [Abb.]: Rundbild Hartmannsweilerkopf - Molkenrain. Der Hartmannsweilerkopf steigt aus der Rheinebene fast ohne Übergang zu einer Höhe von 950 m auf. Er wird vom Molkenrain noch um fast 200 m überragt. Die deutschen und französischen Stellungen führten von Süden an den Hängen empor zum Gipfel und zogen sich dann in die Vogesen hinein. Die ersten Kämpfe um den Hartmannsweilerkopf spielten im Januar 1915 ab. Sie brachten die Deutschen in den Besitz zuerst des vorgelagerten Hirzsteins und dann des Berggipfels selbst. - Im März ging der Sattel zwischen Wolkenrain und Hartmannsweilerkopf und dann dieser selbst wieder verloren. Im April wurde der Rehfelsen und Aussichtsfelsen zurückgewonnen. Die Spitze des Berges lag unbesetzt zwischen den beiderseitigen Stellungen. - Noch einmal entbrannten um die Jahreswende 1915/16 um den Besitz des Berges überaus schwere und sehr wechselvolle Kämpfe, bei deren Abschluß die deutschen Truppen im Besitz des Hirzsteins und des Rehfelsens blieben. (26 - 27) [Abb.]: Blick vom Hartmannsweilerkopf auf die von den Franzosen besetzten Höhen des Sudelkopfes und des Großen Belchen. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Stadt Sennheim, südlich vom Hartmannsweilerkopf am Eingang zum Thurtal, lag unmittelbar hinter der vordersten deutschen Linie. Bei den Kämpfen um den "H. R." hatte sie besonders schwer zu leiden. (2)Unten: Der Hartmannsweilerkopf. (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Hirzstein, ein Felsgipfel am Hang des Hartmannsweilerkopfes, um den in den Jahren 1915 und 1916 heftig gekämpft wurde und der mehrfach den Besitzer wechselte. Erst nach sehr blutigem Ringen kam er endgültig in deutsche Hand. - Die Stellungen verliefen am Hange hart jenseits des Felsgipfels zum Hartmannsweilerkopf hinauf. (2)Fliegeraufnahme der französischen Stellungen im Sattel zwischen Molkenrain und dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Dieser Sattel befand sich im Frühjahr 1915 nur vorübergehend im deutschen Besitz, konnte aber nicht gehalten werden. - Die feinen schrägen Striche sind Schatten der Baumstümpfe. Die oberen Bergränder (oben rechts und links) sind fast völlig kahl geschossen; die abwärts ins Tal führenden Hänge (Mitte unten) zeigen geringere Spuren der Zerstörung. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Die "Serpentinenstraße", die in vielen Windungen aus der Ebene bis fast zum Gipfel des Hartmannsweilerkopfes hinaufführte, wurde während der schweren Kämpfe des Jahres 1915 gebaut. - (2)Unten: Stollen im Rehfelsen auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Das Bild gibt die Stimmung der Mannschaften sehr eindrucksvoll wieder. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Geschützfeuer auf die Kampfgräben des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Im Hintergrund der Sudelkopf und der Große Belchen. (2)Unten: Am Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Vom hochstämmigen Walde ragen nur noch nackte Stümpfe empor. (32) [Abb.]: Die "Felsenkaserne" auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Die meterdicke Stein- und Betondecke und die Lage des Unterstandes am stark geneigten Hange gewährten sicheren Schutz selbst gegen schwerstes Steilfeuer. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der "Aussichtsfelsen", eine Felskuppe am oberen Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Man hatte von diesem beherrschenden Punkt aus einen umfassenden Überblick über das südliche Elsaß von der Schweizer Grenze bis hinauf nach Colmar. (2)Unten: Das berühmte Jägerdenkmal auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf mit seinen bronzenen Erinnerungstafeln und den Trophäen aus vielen Kämpfen. Es lag so geschützt, daß das feindliche Geschütz- und Minenfeuer ihm nichts anhaben konnte. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf einer Zwischenstation der am Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes in dem Jahre 1915 gebauten Drahtseilbahn. Sie spielte bei der Beförderung der gewaltigen Mengen von Munition und Proviant eine wichtige Rolle. (2)Unten: Am Rehfelsen. Der Besitz der Felsengruppe entschied über die Behauptung des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Um sie wurde am erbittersten gekämpft. Wiederholt ging sie verloren. Erst seit dem Januar 1916 war sie fest in deutscher Hand. - Von größter Wichtigkeit war die "Serpentinenstraße", die hier endete, da sie einen gedeckten Anmarsch für die Mannschaften und seine sichere Zufürhung des Kampfgeräts ermöglichte. (35) [3 Abb.]: (1)Ballonaufnahme der Stellungen aus dem Kampfraum beiderseits des Hilfenfirst zwischen Sondernach und Linthal. (2)Unten: Blick von den deutschen Stellungen auf den Hilfenfirst in die Vogesen. (3)Unten: Unterstände am Hange des Hilfenfirst. (36 - 37) [Abb.]: Ruhiger Stellungskrieg im Gebirgswald; ein sehr friedlich anmutendes Bild, das für sich selbst spricht. - Ganz schwieg der Kampf freilich auch in den ruhigsten Vogesenstellungen nie. Immer stand der Beobachtungsposten schußbereit am Grabenrand und beobachtete durch das Zielfernrohrgewehr jede Bewegung in den feindlichen Gräben. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Reservegraben. Die Stellungen in den Vogesen waren meist so vorzüglich ausgebaut, daß sie den Mannschaften in den Zeiten der Ruhe einen ganz behaglichen Aufenthalt boten. (2)Unten: Hinter der Front. Pferdetränken auf dem Marktplatz einer kleinen Vogesenstadt. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine "chinesische Mauer". - Ein eigenartiges Beispiel dafür, zu welchen Formen des Stellungsbaues man in den Hochvogesen gelangte. Meterdicke Betonwände sicherten gegen feindliches Flankenfeuer, das von irgend einer fernliegenden Höhe her den rückwärtigen Verkehr an dieser einzusehenden Stelle belästigte. - Die geköpften Bäume lassen erkennen, daß hier eine Drahtseilbahn zu Tal geführt hat. (2)Die Minenwerfer spielten im Gebirgskrieg eine besonders wichtige Rolle. - Mit Wurfminen konnte man, infolge der starken Krümmung ihrer Flugbahn, auch hinter steile Deckungen fassen und Ziele erreichen, die für Geschütze im "toten Winkel" lagen. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Essenempfang im winterlichen Hochwalde. (2)Unten: Kompanieschuster und -schneider konnten ihre "Handwerksstube" an schönen Sommertagen dicht hinter der Stellung mitten im Walde aufschlagen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Stellungen zwischen Mühlbach - Reichsackerkopf - Stoßweier. (2)Unten: Blick auf den Grenzkamm, nördlich Stoßweier, bis zum Weißen See. (42 - 43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Münster, der Hauptort des Fechttals, das sich von Colmar aus in die Vogesen hinaufzieht. Die Stadt liegt hart östlich des Reichsackerkopfes. - (2)Unten: Deutsche Stellungen im Kampfgebiet des Reichsackerkopfes. (44) [Abb.]: Stoßweier, am Nordfuß des Reichsackerkopfes. Das Dorf lag mitten zwischen den beiden Stellungen. Deutsche wie französische Gräben liefen durch den Ort, ohne daß es einer der beiden Parteien gelang, sich völlig in seinen Besitz zu setzen. - Die Aufnahme stammt noch aus dem Jahre 1915. Das Dorf wurde später ganz zusammengeschossen. (45) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Bludenberghöhe (Bressoir) gegen den Grenzgebirgskamm zwischen Markirch und Diedolshausen. Die Stellungen liefen hier genau längs der Grenze. Die französischen Gräben sind auf den kahlgeschossenen Hängen jenseits des Tals zu erkennen. (2)Blick vom Hansfelsen über den Weißen See. - Ein einsamer, in großartiger Landschaft zwischen schroffen Felsenwänden eingebetteter Hochgebirgssee zwischen Diedolshausen und Münster. Unweit daneben der Schwarze Seer. (3)Felslandschaft in der Nähe des über 1300 m hohen Hohneck (westlich Münster, südlich des Schluchtpasses). Der alpine Charakter der Südvogesen mit seinen vielfach kahlen, waldlosen Gipfeln und Bergmatten tritt hier bereits in Erscheinung. (46 - 47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Stadttor in Türkheim, einem der berühmtesten Weinorte des Elsaß ("Türkenblut"). Das Tor ist ein gutes Beispiel mittelalterlicher Elsässer Bauart, deren deutscher Charakter klar zu Tage tritt. (2)Unten: Kaysersberg. Das Städtchen liegt, von alten Türmen und Mauern umgeben, malerisch am Eingang zu dem nach Schnierlach und Diedolshausen führenden Weißbachtal. (48) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Kaysersberger Burg, eine der schönsten Ruinen des Elsaß. (2)Unten: Im Weißbachtal. (49) [3 Abb.]: (1)Colmar, am Eingang zum Münstertal gelegen, gehört zu den schönsten Städten des Rheintales. Blick gegen die Vogesen. (2)Schlettstadt mit dem Münster St. Georg. Die Stadt, einst eine blühende Reichsstadt, war stets eine der Mittelpunkte echt deutscher Kultur im Elsaß. (3)Rufach, elsässische Landstadt zwischen Colmar und Schlettstadt. Die stattlichen Häuser lassen den ehemaligen Reichtum und die Bedeutung dieser kleinen elsässischen Städte erkennen. (50) [Abb.]: Die Hohkönigsburg. Blick in die Rheinebene. (51) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Schratzmännle, benannt nach einem bösen Berggeist, der nach der Volkssage hier sein Unwesen treibt. Der über 1000 Meter hohe Berg gewährt einen weiten Überblick vom großen Belchen über den Hohneck bis zu dem Reichsackerkopf. (2)Unten: Blick vom Schratzmännle gegen den Barrenkopf. (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Fliegeraufnahme vom Buchenkopf. Der Verlauf der in schmalem Keil zum Gipfel führenden Stellung läßt erkennen, wie schwer es für die Deutschen war, sich auf diesem Berge zu behaupten. Die Kämpfe um den Buchenkopf standen denen um den Hartmannsweiler- und Reichsackerkopf an Schwere nicht nach. - (2)Unten: Der Buchenkopf, von Süden her gesehen. (53) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Geschützstand im Hochgebirge. (2)Unten: Stellung im Bergwald. (54) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Hart am Feind. Der Franzose liegt auf Handgranatenwurfweite vom Sappenkopf entfernt. - (2)Unten: Unterstände für Kampfreserven. Starke Betondecken und gedeckte Lage im Walde geben ihnen ein hohes Maß von Sicherheit. (55) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Schneeschuh gewährt im Winter die einzige Möglichkeit, sich über die Schneemassen fortzubewegen. (2)Unten: Artilleriebeobachtungsstand am Waldrand. (56) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vogesenlandschaft zur Zeit der Schneeschmelze. (2)Unten: Zwischen meterhohen Schneewänden führt der Weg in die Stellung. (57) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schnierlach im Weißbachtal. Der Bezirk Schnierlach - Diedolshausen war eine der wenigen elsässischen Gegenden mit überwiegend französisch sprechender Bevölkerung. (2)Unten: Diedolshausen. (58) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Grenzhöhe der Bressoir nach Norden in das Markircher Tal. (2)Unten: Markirch, ein industrierreicher Ort im Oberlauf des Lebertals, ringsum eingeengt durch steil ansteigende Höhen. (59) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Die rückwärtigen deutschen Verbindungen auf diesem Frontabschnitt führten durch das Breuschtal auf Straßburg. - Saales, deutscher Grenzort am Beginn des Breuschtals. (2)Unten: Molsheim am Austritt des Breuschtals in die Rheinebene westlich von Straßburg. (60) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Auf französischer Seite: Stellungen östlich St. Dié. - (2)Unten: Provenschères, am Fuße der Montagne d'Ormont. (61) [3 Abb.]: (1)La Montagne d'Ormont, ein das Hügelgelände der mittleren Vogesen beherrschender, weithin sichtbarer Berg in Form einer abgeschnittenen Pyramide. Die Aufnahme gibt eine gute Vorstellung der französischen Vogesenlandschaft zwischen St. Dié und Raon L'Etape: Weite Täler, flache, langgestreckte Hügelketten. Ein von der deutschen Vogesenlandschaft völlig verschiedenes Bild (2)Von Laufgräben durchzogene Gebirgslandschaft zwischen dem deutschen Grenzort Saales und dem auf der französischen Seite der Vogesen liegenden Colroy la Grande. Der Wechsel im Charakter der Landschaft tritt deutlich in die Erscheinung. (3)Unten: Le Beuley östlich St. Dié. Charakteristisch die romanische Bauart der Gehöfte. Im Hintergrund La Montagna d'Ormont. Auch dieses Bild veranschaulicht die Bedeutung der Vogesen als Grenzscheibe zweier wesensverschiedener Kulturlandschaften. (62 - 63) [Abb.]: Deutscher Kriegerfriedhof am Hartmannsweilerkopf. (64) [Karte]: Elsass-Lothringen ( - ) Der Krieg in den Kolonien ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Deutsch-Ostafrika (3) Deutsch-Südwestafrika (13) Kamerun (23) Togo (32) Die deutschen Südsee-Inseln (33) Tsingtau (34) Deutsch-Ostafrika (1) [Abb.]: Die Bucht von Daressalam. - Die herrliche Hafenstadt, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie und der Sitz des Gouvernements und Kommandos der Schutztruppe, war unter deutscher Herrschaft zu einer der schönsten und saubersten Städte der gesamten afrikanischen Ostküste geworden. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Straße in der Europäerstadt von Daressalam. (2)Im Inderviertel. - Die Inder, deren Zahl etwa 9000 betrug, saßen in der Kolonie als Händler und Handwerker. (2) Abb.]: Dorfstraße im Nergerviertel. - Die Eingeborenen wohnten in geschlossenen Siedlungen außerhalb der Europäerstadt. (3) [Abb.]: Der über 6000 m hohe, schneebedeckte Gipfel des Kibo, ein erloschener Vulkan, ist die höchste Erhebung des Kilimandscharo und der höchste Berg Afrikas. Im Vordergrund eine Europäer-Farm. - Auf diesem Hochland, das zu den fruchtbarsten Gebieten der ganzen Kolonie gehört, hatten sich besonders deutsche und burische Farmer angesiedelt. (4) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf den Höhen des Usambara-Gebirges. In der Tiefe die weite, endlose Steppe, das Kampfgebiet der Patrouillen. (2)Im Bergurwald des Kilimandscharo. Im Vordergrund ein von der Truppe durch das Dickicht geschlagener Etappenweg. (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Westlich des Kilimandscharo erhebt sich der 4730 m hohe Kegel des Meru, ebenfalls vulkanischen Ursprungs. Am Fuße des Berges liegt Aruscha. Das weiße Gebäude am Ende der Hauptstraße ist die Boma, die Festung des Ortes. (2)Eine Askarikompanie im Standlager. - Die 14 Kompanien der Schutztruppe waren im Frieden über die Kolonie verteilt. (6) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mitte August besetzten die Deutschen die dicht an der Grenze gelegene englische Station Taveta, eine äußerst wertvolle Wasserstelle und ein wichtiger Ausgangspunkt für Patrouillenunternehmungen in die Steppe und zur Ugandabahn. (2)Eine Patrouille von 8-10 Askari unter Führung von 2-3 Europäern auf dem Marsch durch die wasserlose Steppe. (7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zu Beginn des Krieges hatte die Truppe noch Zelte. Links im Hintergrund ein Europäerzelt. - Abendstimmung. (2)Askari und Träger am Lagerfeuer. Später traten Grashütten an Stelle der Zelte. - In der Mitte ein Soldatenweib. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Trägerkolonne auf dem Marsch. Die Träger bildeten das wichtigste Beförderungsmittel in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Auf der Rast. Müde von des Tages Last und Arbeit kauern die braven Träger im Busch. Waffenlos mußten sie die MG.- und Munitionslasten bis in die Schützenlinie und ins feindliche Feuer schleppen. Sie hatten oft schwere Verluste. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das englisch-indische Expeditionskorps läuft im Hafen von Tanga ein, ein Augenblick höchster Gefahr. Rechts, ganz im Hintergrund, der englische Kreuzer "Fox" am Kap Ras Kazone, an dem die Landung der englischen Truppen erfolgte. (2)Der Sturm der deutschen Askaria. - In Front und Flanke angegriffen, geriet die englische Linie in Völlige Auflösung. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Schlachtfeld von Tanga. Der verwüstete Palmenwald gibt ein deutliches Bild von der Schwere des Kampfes. (2)"Hier ruhen 13 deutsche Helden an der Stelle, wo sie am 4. November 1914 für die Größe des Vaterlandes fielen." (11) [3 Abb.]: (1)Nordwestlich vom Kilimandscharo erhebt sich aus der freien Steppe der langgestreckte Bergrücken des Longido, der von Deutschen besetzt wurde. Der Steinhügel im Vordergrund ist ein Europäergrab. (2)Askari in Schützenlöchern am Longido. Die Schwarzen passen sich dem steinigen Steppengelände ausgezeichnet an. (3)Askari und Träger an einer Wasserstelle. Die Wasserversorgung bereitete in der Steppe oft größte Schwierigkeiten. (12 - 13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Endlos schlängelt sich die Marschkolonne durch die weite, fast baumlose Massaisteppe im Westen des Kilimandscharo. (2)Marschkolonne am Natronsee. Tausende von Trägern befördern Wasser, Proviant und Munition für die Schutztruppe. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Verteidigungsstellung mit zwei übereinanderliegenden Schützengräben, die mühsam in die Lava eingebrochen sind. (2)Maschinengewehrstellung am Engare Nairobi am Nordwestabhang des Kilimandscharo. Blick in die Serengetisteppe. Der lange, dünne Strich in der Ebene (Mitte des Bildes) kennzeichnet einen von der Truppe angelegten Dornverhau. (15) [3 Abb.]: (1)Eine Askarikompanie am Ufer des Viktoriasees. - Gleich nach Kriegsbeginn hatt sich an der ganzen Westgrenze der Kolonie kleinere Abteilungen gebildet, die unabhängig von der Hauptmacht der Schutztruppe den dort vordringenden Engländern und Belgiern anderthalb Jahre lang in zahlreichen Einzelgefechten erfolgreich Widerstand leistete. (2)Landschaft im Nordosten der Kolonie. Das Bergland von Ruanda am Ostufer des insel- und buchtenreichen Kiwusees. (3)Blick auf Stadt und Hafen Muansa am Südufer des Victoriasees. (16 - 17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf Tabora, den Sammelpunkt der nach dem Süden zum Mahenge-Hochland zurückweichenden Westtruppen. (2)Südlich von Morongoro erhebt sich das mächtige Uluguru-Gebirge, das Rückzugsgebiet der Hauptmacht unter Lettow-Vorbeck. Zu beiden Seiten des Gebirges und im Süden bei Kissaki spielten sich im September 1916 furchtbare Kämpfe ab. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Askari-Unteroffizier. - (2)Unten: Am Baumverbau im Kampfgebiet des Mahenge-Hochlandes. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Wrack der "Königsberg" in der Rufiji-Mündung. Der kleine Kreuzer hatte in den ersten Monaten des Krieges zunächst erfolgreich Handelskrieg im Indischen Ozean geführt. Nach Verbrauch der Kohlenvorräte zog er sich in das unübersichtliche Delta des Rufiji zurück. Dort wurde er nach zehnmonatiger Blockade durch englische Kriegsschiffe und nach heftiger Beschießung im Juli 1915 von der eigenen Besatzung gesprengt. Die Besatzung trat zur Schutztruppe über. (2)Das Wrack des Dampfleichters "Hedwig", der den kleinen Kreuzer "Königsberg" mit Kohlen versorgt hat, in einem der zahlreichen Flußarme der weitverzweigten Rufijimündung. Dieses Wrack wurde erst im Jahre 1921 entdeckt. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aus Marinetruppengebildeter Delta-Schutz an der Rufiji-Mündung, der dem Feind die Einfahrt in den Fluß versperrt. (2)!0,5-cm-Geschütz der "Königsberg", auf eine fahrbare Lafette montiert, auf der Lukigurabrücke. - Hunderte von Eingeborenen zogen die geretteten Geschütze der "Königsberg" ins Innere, zum Teil bis in den Norden der Kolonie. (21) Deutsch-Südwestafrika (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Windhuk, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie, liegt im Inneren des Hochlandes in einem Talkessel. - Noch heute trägt die fast 5000 Einwohner zählende Europäerstadt rein deutschen Charakter. Auf der Höhe im Hintergrund das Regierungsgebäude. (2)Die letzte Parade vor dem Gouverneur. Dr. Seitz anläßlich der fünfundzwanzigjahrfeier der Kolonie im Juni 1914. (22) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Auf der Fahrt zur Front. (2)Artillerie, mit Maultierbespannung, rollt nach dem Süden. (3)Eine Munitionskolonne verläßt Windhuk, den Sammelpunkt der Truppenteile des Nordbezirks. (23) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sonnenübergossen liegt Ramansdrift im breiten Tal des Oranje, auf beiden Seiten von hohen Bergen eingeschlossen. (2)Maschinengewehrzug in den Oranjebergen. Der Süden gehört zu den regenärmsten Siedlungsgebieten der Kolonie. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lüderitzbucht. Die inmitten der Wüste an zwei Buchten gelegene Stadt hatte einen guten Hafen, war aber wasserlos. (2)Wanderdünen an der Küste bei Lüderitzbucht, das Patrouillengelände der schwachen deutschen Küstenschutzabteilung. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Namib-Wüste bei Tschaukaib, 70 km östlich von Lüderitzbucht, wo sich lange Zeit ein feindliches Lager befand. (2)Deutscher Flieger bewirft das Zeltlager der Buren bei Tschaukaib mit Bomben. - Auf dem Bild links die Bahnlinie. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um dem Gegner das Vordringen durch wasserlose Wüste nach Möglichkeit zu erschweren, wurde die Eisenbahnlinie von Lüderitzbucht ab von den Deutschen auf ihrem Rückzuge an zahlreichen Stellen gesprengt. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Bild zeigt eine typische Landschaft aus der Gegend von Keettmanshoop. Im Vordergrund Kandelaber-Euphorbien. (2)Auf Patrouille. - Die Kamelreiter wurden an der Südostgrenze und in der Namib zu Patrouillendiensten verwandt. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mole von Swakopmund. Da die schwere Brandung die Landung auf der offenen Reede sehr erschwerte, baute die Schutztruppe 1905 eine 300 m lange hölzerne Brücke in das Meer hinaus, die es ermöglichte, bei jedem Seegang zu landen. (2)Swakopmund, der Hafenplatz für die Mitte und den Norden und der Ausgangspunkt der Otawi-Bahn. (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)In der Namib bei Swakopmund. - Ähnlich wie im Süden liegt auch hier an der Küste eine Zone von Wanderdünen. (2)An der Otawi-Bahn. - Mit großer Schnelligkeit stellte der Feind bei seinem Vormarsch durch die Namib die von der Schutztruppe zerstörten Bahnen wieder her. Im Hintergrund ein zum Schutz der Bahn errichtetes englisches Blickhaus. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Swakoptal bei Goanikontes. Etwa 30 Kilometer oberhalb der Mündung durchbricht der Fluß ein wildzerklüftetes, ödes Bergland. Wasserreichtum und fruchtbares Schwemmland ermöglichen im Tal den Anbau von Obst, Gemüse und Luzerne; eine Oase in der Steinwüste. - Der Platz war bis Ende Februar 1915 ein wertvoller Stützpunkt für die Schutztruppe. (2)Patrouille am Swakop-Rivier. - In Deutsch-Südwest waren Maultier- und Ochsenwagen das Haupttransportmittel. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bahnstation Khan im Khan-Gebirge. - Auch im Norden erheben sich am Ostrande der Namib schroffe Gebirgszüge. (2)Karibib, die erste größere Stadt auf der Hochebene der Kolonie. Sie wurde am 5. Mai 1915 vom Feinde besetzt. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Artillerieabteilung auf der Rast. Die Giraffenakazie bietet den Mannschaften nur spärlichen Schutz vor der Sonne. (2)Feldhaubitz-Batterie auf dem Marsch. Für den Transport der Geschütze wurden in den meisten Fällen Ochsen verwandt. (33) [3 Abb.]: (1)Keetmanshoop. Weitläufig gebaut, wie alle südwestafrikanischen Städte und Ortschaften, liegt dieser wichtige Eisenbahnknotenpunkt auf der flachen, fast baumlosen Hochebene. - Hier sammelten sich die deutschen Truppen auf ihrem Marsche nach Norden. Die Stadt wurde am 19. April 1915 geräumt. (2)Rietfontein. Auch von Osten stieß gleichzeitig eine englische Abteilung durch die Kalahari auf Rietfontein vor und bedrohte die Südtruppen im Rücken. - Eine typische Trockenlandschaft. Die Steppe ist fast ohne Vegetation. (3)Die gleiche Landschaft zur Regenzeit. Aus dem trockenen, gelben Sande sprießt plötzlich üppiges Gras, das ganze Land überzieht sich mit einem hellen Grün. - Die gute Regenzeit 1914/15 erleichterte dem Feinde den Vormarsch sehr. (34 - 35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Typische südwestafrikanische Buschsteppe mit Giraffenakazien. - Die freie, offene Steppe war überall passierbar. In diesem Gelände drang der Feind auf Pferden, Kamelen und Kraftwagen mit außerordentlicher Schnelligkeit vor. (2)Auf dem Komas-Hochland südlich des oberen Swakop. - Wilde Felsen, tiefe Schluchten, bewaldete Täler, kahle Berge, in der Ferne wellige, blau verdämmernde Höhenzüge, das ist das charakteristische Bild dieser romantischen Landschaft. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kamelreiterpatrouille an der Ostgrenze der Kolonie am Steilabhang eines Riviers lagernd. (2)Reiterkolonne auf dem Marsch durch Karibib. - In Deutsch-Südwest war die fechtende Truppe durchweg beritten. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Waterberg, berühmt durch die Kämpfe im Hererokrieg, liegt im landschaftlich schönsten Teil des Nordostgebietes. (2)Truppenstation Otawifontein. Hier leistete die Schutztruppe dem nachdrängenden Gegner den letzten Widerstand. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Otawibergland. Im Gegensatz zu den lichten Steppen der Mitte und des Südens ist im Nordosten das Land weit und breit mit dichtem Busch bewachsen. - In dieser Gegend vollendete sich das Schicksal von Deutsch-Südwestafrika. (2)Soldatenfriedhof bei Aus. Hier ruhen 60 deutsche und 64 englische Soldaten, an Grippe gestorben im Gefangenenlager. (39) Kamerun (40) [Abb.]: An der Küste von Kamerun. - Im Inneren der malerischen Bucht liegt die Hafen- und Plantagenstadt Viktoria. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der kleine Kamerunberg. In mehreren Terrassen erhebt sich an der Küste das über 4000 m hohe Vulkanmassiv des Kamerunberges, das Wahrzeichen der Kolonie. - Im Vordergrund des Bildes liegt eine Bananenpflanzung. (2)Die Küste bei Bota am Westabhang des Kamerunberges. Jahrzehntelange deutsche Kolonialarbeit hat hier aus dem tropischen Urwald ein fruchtbares Kulturland mit ausgedehnten, modernen Pflanzungsanlagen geschaffen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Längs der Küste von Kamerun erstreckt sich ein dichter Urwaldgürtel, das Kampfgebiet der Küstentruppen. (2)Bei Johann-Albrechtshöhe liegt inmitten immergrünen Urwalds der märchenhafte Elefantensee, ein erloschener Krater. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lianenbrücke. Im Küstengebiet dienten diese an Bäumen befestigten und geflochtenen Brücken als Flußübergang. (2)Küstenfluß in der Urwaldzone. Bis zu den Stromschnellen drang der Feind auf Flußdampfern in den Urwald vor. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Typische Kulturlandschaft auf dem Hochplateau Mittelkameruns, wo die Urwaldzone in Gras- und Parklandschaft übergeht. In diesem offenen Gelände war der Feind auf die Dauer den Deutschen mit seiner Artillerie überlegen. (2)Tal des Mao-Deo-Flusses bei Kontscha. - Unendlich dehnen sich die Grasflächen im Norden aus. Das Land ist gesund, fruchtbar und viehreich, es bietet für die europäische Ansiedlung noch unabsehbare Möglichkeiten. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Besatzung von Garua hatte die Verteidigung auf eine Hügelkette gelegt, die sich nördlich der Stadt aus der Benuë-Ebene erhob. - Blick auf die Schanze III von Süden. In der Mitte der Kanonenstand. (2)Berittene Abteilung in Garua vor dem Kanonenhügel. Im Gegensatz zu den dicht bewachsenen Niederungen der Küste und des Südens konnten auf den offenen Steppen des Hochlandes auch berittene Kompanien verwendet werden. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Schanze IV auf den Ring der Schanzen III, II, I. In monatelanger, mühsamer Arbeit wurden auf der Hügelkette aus Erde, Sand und Steinen Befestigungsanlagen geschaffen, die für Infanterieangriffe uneinnehmbar waren. (2)Die Besatzung der sogenannten Kuhstallschanze in Alarmstellung. Rechts auf dem Bilde ein Maschinengewehr-Stand. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die durch einen dicken Wall aus Gras und Erde verstärkte Backsteinmauer des Reduits, von Norden her gesehen. (2)Das Innere des Reduits mit dem Residentenhaus. - In diesem unbeschreiblichen Durcheinander hausten eng zusammengepfercht die Soldaten. - Im Süden jenseits des Benuë die Bogle-Berge, wo sich die Stellung der Engländer befand. (47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kolonialtruppen und Träger in Marschkolonne beim Übergang über den Mao Ntelo auf dem Ngaundere-Hochland. (2)Jaunde, seit Mitte November 1914 der Sitz des Huptquartiers und das Zentrum der deutschen Verteidigung. (48) Togo (49) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lome, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie, war zu einer der schönsten Hafenstädte der afrikanischen Westküste geworden. (2)Marktplatz in Lome mit typischen Europäerhäusern. Eingeborene Händler bieten in Verkaufsständen ihre Waren an. (49) Die deutschen Südsee-Inseln (50) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf Markhamebene in Kaiser-Wilhelm-Land auf Neu-Guinea. Der Markhamfluß mündet in den Huon-Golf. (2)Straße in Rabaul auf Neu-Pommern, Sitz des Gouverneurs von Neu-Guinea. (50) [2 Abb.]: (1)Missionsdorf bei Rabaul. - Auf Neu-Guinea und Neu-Pommern waren nur die Küstengebiete von Europäern besiedelt. (2)Blick auf Apia, die Hauptstadt von Samoa und Sitz des Gouverneurs. (51) Tsingtau (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Tsingtau. Der Eingang zur Bucht und zum Hafen war nur auf der Stadtseite durch Befestigungsanlagen geschützt. (2)Bismarckstraße in Tsingtau. Im Hintergrund die 3-4 km breite Einfahrt in die Kiautschou-Bucht mit Kap Jäschke. (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Landung japanischer Truppen in der außerhalb des Schutzgebietes gelegenen Lauschanbucht bei Wangkotschwang. (2)Deutsches Genesungsheim "Mecklenburghaus" im Lauschangebirge, wo die ersten Kämpfe mit den Japanern stattfanden. (53) [2 Abb.]: (1)Batterie reitender Feldartillerie auf dem Marsch im Vorgelände von Tsingtau. (2)Deutsche Infanterie in Schützenlinie in Erwartung des feindlichen Angriffs. (54) [2 Abb.]: (1)Stacheldrahtverhau in versumpfter Niederung im Vorfeld der Festung. (2)Vormarsch der Japaner. Antransport von Belagerungsgerät auf einer von Kulis betriebenen Feldbahn. (55) [Abb.]: Unvergessenes Land. (56) [9 Karten]: (1)Koloniale Kriegsschauplätze (2)Lagekärtchen der deutschen Kolonien (3)Schutzgebiet Kiautschou (4)Samoa-Inseln (5)Togo u. Kamerun (6)Deutsch-Südwestafrika (7)Deutsch-Ostafrika (8)Deutsche Südseekolonien (9)Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und Bismarck-Archipel ( - ) Der Seekrieg ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Vom Frieden in den Krieg (1) [Abb.]: Der Kaiser ist eingetroffen, englische und deutsche Kriegsschiffe begrüßen ihn mit Salut. Der weiße Pulverdampf zieht über den Hafen. Im Flaggenschmuck liegen die Segel- und Dampfjachten. Eine festliche Menschenmenge säumt das Ufer. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche U-Boote neben ihren Mutterschiffen an der Kieler Hafenbrücke. Ihre Gesamtzahl betrug zu Kriegsbeginn 20. (2)In Langer Reihe liegen die mächtigen Schiffe der Hochseeflotte an den Bojen. In wenigen Stunden sind sie gefechtsbereit. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Mobilmachungsbefehl trifft ein, Es ergeht der Befehl: "Alle Mann an Board!" Die Angehörigen geben das Geleit. (2)Zur gleichen Zeit liegen große Teile der englischen Hochseeflotte in dem schottischen Hafen Firth of Forth versammelt. (3) [Abb.]: Blick auf die großen Werftanlagen von Wilhelmshaven. Am 17. Juni 1869 eingeweiht, hat der Kriegshafen an der Nordsee eine stürmische Aufwärtsentwicklung erlebt. Riesige Hafenbecken und Schleusenanlagen, Docks und Magazine, Werkstätten und Hellinge die Instandhaltung und Versorgung der gesamten Hochseeflotte. Zahlreiche gelungene Neubauten gingen aus der Bauwerft hervor. Drei Einfahrten führten auf die Jade hinaus, eine vierte war geplant. (4 - 5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Insel Helgoland, seit 1890 deutscher Besitz, war ein wichtiger Vorposten der deutschen Marineverteidigung. Ihre schwere Bewaffnung und starke Besatzung machten sie zur uneinnehmbaren Festung. Ansicht vor Beginn des Hafenbaues. (2)Stürmischer Südwest fegt die See über die Brandungsmauer der im Bau begriffenen gewaltigen Hafenanlagen. (6) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine Salve der Helgoländer schweren Geschütze (Südgruppe, vier 30,5 cm). Leider hatten sie im Kriege keine Gelegenheit einzugreifen. Nur einmal, am 24. November 1914, schossen sie, jedoch war die Entfernung zum Feinde zu weit. (2)Der fertige Hafen bot Liegeplätze für 18 Unterseeboote und 90 Torpedoboote und Versorgung mit Wasser, Brennstoff und Vorräten aller Art. Ein technisches Wunderwerk, bei Freidensschluß auf Befehl der Entente sinnlos zerstört. (7) Das Meer (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Unterseeboot bei grober See in Überwasserfahrt. Im Hintergrunde Helgoland. (2)Der Wind erreichte Stärke 7. Der Seegang wächst, starke Wellen wandern, Berge und Täler bildend, an dem Schiff entlang. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kleinere Fahrzeuge, wie Minensuchboote, verschwinden hinter den sich türmenden Wogen. (2)Ein Brecher fegt über die Back (Vorschiff) eines Linienschiffes, das in ruhiger Bewegung gegen die See andampft. (9) Die Flotte in See (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das II. Geschwader, im Vordergrund Linienschiff "Westfalen" (1908 vom Stapel gelaufen, 18900 Tonnen, 20 Knoten) (2)Linienschiff "Baden" das letzte deutsche Flottenflaggschiff (1915 vom Stapel gelaufen, 28600 Tonnen, 21 Knoten) (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Flotte übt Schwenkungen im Kielwasser. Auf größte Genauigkeit in den Bewegungen wurde besonderer Wert gelegt. (2)Torpedoboote haben angegriffen und kehren, die eigene Linie durchbrechend, zurück. Links im Hintergrund der Gegner. (11) Minen und Minensucher (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Eine Minensuch-Halbflottille in See. (2)Unten: Torpedo-Minensuchboot "A 88" dampft auf. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine Ladung Minen. Man sieht die "Bleikappen" mit den Zündungen. Darunter liegt der Sprengkörper (150 - 200 kg). (2)Eine Seemine explodiert. Die mächtige Rauch- und Wassersäule kennzeichnet die ungeheure Wirkung der Detonation. (13) In fernen Meeren (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kreuzer "Emden" kämpfte im Indischen Ozean; seine Beute betrug 17 Dampfer, einen Kreuzer und ein Torpedoboot. (2)Landungskorps der "Emden" hat die Funkstation auf den Kokos-Keeling-Inseln zerstört. - Aber der Feind war nahe. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der starke englische Kreuzer "Sydney" vernichtete die "Emden" am 9. November 1914. Ihr Wrack liegt auf den Felsen. (2)Das Landungskorps der "Emden" unter Kapitänleutnant v. Mücke kaperte den Schoner "Ayesha", ging mit ihm in See und erreichte über Sumatra und Arabien im abenteuerlichen Wechsel von Kampf, Seefahrt und Marsch Konstantinopel. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Graf Spee hat den Feind bei Coronel am 17. November 1914 geschlagen. "Die "Scharnhorst" bei Kohlenübernahme. (2)Das Kreuzergeschwader im Hafen von Valparaiso. Es bestand aus den Panzerkreuzern "Scharnhorst" und "Gneisenau" (4 Schornsteine) und den Kreuzern "Nürnberg", "Leipzig", "Dresden". Neben den deutschen ankern chilenische Schiffe. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Admiral Graf Spee geht mit dem deutschen Konsul zu Besuchen bei den chilenischen Behörden in Valparaiso an Land. (2)Englisches Geschwader, das die weit unterlegenen deutschen Schiffe am 8. Dez. 1914 bei den Falklandinseln vernichtete. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Befestigungsanlagen von Anadoli-Kavak, darüber der Schatten eines Zeppelins. Die türkischen Festungen stammen meist aus älterer, zum Teil mittelalterlicher Zeit. Sie wurden mit deutscher Hilfe zeitgemäß verstärkt und ausgebaut. (2)Unten: Schlachtkreuzer "Goeben" im Bosporus in Ruhestellung. Das mächtige Schiff bildete seit seinem Übergang in türkische Dienste den Kern der osmanischen Seemacht. Es gelang den feindlichen Anstrengungen nicht, es zu vernichten. Noch heute ist es als "Javus Selim" in Dienst. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schlachtkreuzer "Goeben" und der kleine Kreuzer "Breslau" in der Stenia-Bucht am Bosporus. Aus Sicherheitsgründen mußte der Liegeplatz öfters gewechselt werden. (2)Unten: Die beiden Schiffe auf hoher See im Schwarzen Meer. In zahlreichen Gefechten behauptete das stolze Paar die Seeherrschaft gegenüber einer starken russischen Übermacht. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Unterseeboot "UC 25" mit türkischer Flagge im Bosporus. (2)Der Dardanellenangriff mit 20 Linienschiffen der Alliierten ist abgeschlagen. Englisches Linienschiff "Irresistibele" sinkt am 18. März 1915, dazu zwei andere; drei sind schwer beschädigt, drei weitere werden etwas später versenkt. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)LZ 81 verläßt die Luftschiffhalle in Temesvar zu einer Aufklärungsfahrt über das Schwarze Meer. (2)LZ 87 landet auf dem Luftschiffhafen in Tondern (Schleswig) nach einer Aufklärungsfahrt über die Nordsee. Die Hülle des Luftschiffes ist durch Wolkenschattenbemalung getarnt. (21) Krieg in der Nordsee (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ausfahrt zum Vorstoß: Panzerkreuzer "Blücher" und Kreuzer "Rostock", begleitet von 19 Torpedobooten auf dem Marsch. (2)Die deutschen Schlachtkreuzer im Gefecht. Rechts die mächtigen Wassersäulen eingeschlagener schwerer englischer Granaten. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)"Blücher" ist überwältigt und sinkt. Er kämpfte bis zum letzten Augenblick. Nur 260 Mann konnten gerettet werden. (2)Eine Torpedobootsflottille in hoher Fahrt. (23) Skagerrakschlacht, 31. Mai 1916 (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ausfahrt der Flotte zur Schlacht. (2)Höchste Fahrt, dem Feind entgegen. Die Sicht ist durch Rauch und Dunst verhüllt. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine schwere Salve. (2)Ein Gefechtsbild vom II. Geschwader, Schiffe der "Deutschland"-Klasse im Vordergrund. (25) [3 Abb.]: (1)Gefechtsbild mit durchbrechenden Torpedobooten. Links im Hintergrund der Gegner. - Manöverbild zur Erläuterung taktischer Lagen. (2)Vernichtung des Schlachtkreuzers "Queen Mary" (27400 t, 28,5 Knoten, acht 34,3-cm-, zwölf 15,2-cm-Geschütze, 5 Torpedorohre) und "Indefatigable". In Sekunden sind die Schiffe verschwunden, eine Rauchwolke bezeichnet ihr Grab. (3)Den englischen Schlachtkreuzer "Invincible" (20300 t, 27 Knoten, acht 30,5-cm-, sechzehn 10,2-cm-Geschütze, 5 Torpedorohre) trifft in der Skagerrakschlacht das gleiche Schicksal. (26 - 27) Nach der Schlacht (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schwerer Treffer gegen ein Geschützrohr. (2)Schlachtkreuzer "Seydlitz" blieb trotz vieler schwerer Treffer schwimmfähig und war bald wieder verwendungsbereit. (28) [Abb.]: Auf "Derfflinger" war ein Volltreffer auf ein Geschützrohr aufgeschlagen und hatte es glatt abgerissen. (29) Hilfe für Finnland (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Treibeis im Hafen von Pernau. Links von den Russen als Hafensperre versenkte Schiffe. (2)In Helfingfors, Nordhafen und Werft. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Treibeis des finnischen Meerbusens versinkender russischer Frachtdampfer. (2)Deutsche Eisbrecher bei der Arbeit. (31) U-Bootskrieg (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Boot des Kapitänleutnants Weddigen, "U 9", mit dem er am 22. September 1914 in einem mit höchstem Schneid durchgeführten Angriff die englischen Panzerkreuzer "Aboukir", "Cressy" und "Hogue" kurz hintereinander versenkte. (2)Der Panzerkreuzer "Aboukir" (12200 t, 22 Knoten, zwei 23,4-cm-, zwölf 15-cm-Geschütze, 2 Torpedorohre, gebaut 1900). (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein kleines U-Boot auf See bei einem größeren längsseits, um von ihm Vorräte und Mitteilungen zu empfangen. (2)Blick auf zwei Torpedorohre im Bootsinneren. Das linke Rohr ist geöffnet, die Propeller des Torpedos sind sichtbar. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)"U 66" in See (50 t, 13 Knoten, ein 10,5-cm-Geschütz, 5 Rohre). Der weiße Kreis ist Erkennungszeichen für Flieger. (2)Ein Handelsschiff wird angehalten. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Besatzung längsseits, wird versorgt und erhält Anweisungen über Schiffsort und Kurs zum nächsten Hafen. (2)Das von der Besatzung verlassene Schiff wird versenkt. (35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Ein Dampfer ist torpediert und bricht entzwei. - (2)Unten: Ein Dampfer mit Fässern kentert bei der Versenkung. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)"U 35" kehrt von der Fahrt heim, durch zahlreiche Flaggen zeigt es nach Art siegreicher Jachten die Ziffer seiner Erfolge an: so viele Siegesflaggen, so viele versenkte Schiffe. (2)Unten: Die Schiffsraumnot zwang den Feindbund, alle irgendwie seetüchtigen Schiffe zur Kriegsversorgung heranzuziehen. Für die Unterseeboote waren Segelschiffe leichte Beute. In Eile wurde stets das Schiff verlassen, mit vollen Segeln mußte es zur Tiefe fahren, für Freund und Feind ein bewegender Anblick. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Seeflugzeug tauscht Mitteilungen mit einem U-Boot aus. (2)Das englische Unterseeboot "C 25" inmitten von Bombentreffern deutscher Flieger. Abwehrgeschütze gab es noch nicht. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein feindlicher Dampfer seitlich gegen Torpedierung gedeckt. (2)Auf hoher See geschieht die wichtige Ortsbestimmung durch nautische Messungen. Es ist heiß in der Mittagssonne! (39) Im Mittelmeer (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Sonnenaufgang an der afrikanischen Küste, vom U-Boot gesehen. (2)U-Bootfahrt längs der marokkanischen Küste. Am Ufer erheben sich die mächtigen Höhenzüge des Atlasgebirges. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)An der Einfahrt zur inneren Bucht von Cattaro. (2)Vor der dalmatinischen Hafenstadt Trau, von deren einstiger Größe herrliche Baudenkmäler noch Zeugnis ablegen. (41) An der Küste von Flandern (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bei einem englischen Sperrversuch am 22./23. April 1918 wurden alte Kreuzer in der Einfahrt von Seebrügge versenkt. (2)Die Ausfahrt war nahezu versperrt, wurde aber bald wieder freigemacht. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Kreuzer "Vindictive" ist bei einem zweiten Sperrversuch am 10. Mai 1918 an der Ostmole von Ostende gestrandet. (2)Deutsche Torpedoboote laufen aus. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine eingebaute Marine-Batterie nahe der holländischen Grenze. (2)Ein Marine-Unterstand am Strande. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Torpedoboote im Hafen von Ostende. (2)Ein abgeschossenes Luftschiff wird nach Seebrügge eingeschleppt. (45) Das Ende des Seekrieges (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die U-Boote vom Mittelmehr sind nach Kiel heimgekehrt, trotzig und unbezwungen. Auch ihr Krieg ist jetzt zu Ende. (2)Die Hochseeflotte in Scapa Flow, vom Feinde eng bewacht. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Linienschiff "Bayern" im Sinken. Die Besatzung hat das Schiff unmittelbar vorher in den Booten verlassen. (2)Das Ende der Torpedoboote. (47) [Abb.]: Am Eingang der Kieler Förde, auf dem hohen Ufer bei Laboe, erhebt sich das Ehrenzeichen des Seekriegs und der kaiserlichen Marine. Einem ragenden Schiffssteven gleich blickt es in die Ferne, ein Sinnbild stolzer Trauer über versunkene Größe und zugleich der festen Hoffnung auf eine neue rumvolle Zukunft. (48) [7 Karten]: (1)Europa Gesamtfront (2)Kriegsschauplatz der Nordsee (3)Seeschlacht an der Doggerbank 24. I. 1915 (4) Kampf um die Dardanellen (5)Seeschlacht bei Coronel 1. XI. 1914 (6)Seeschlacht bei den Falkland-Inseln 8. XII. 1914 (7)Kreuzfahrt d. deutschen Kl. Kreuzers "Emden" Sept-Nov 1914 ( - ) Einband ( - ) Einband ( - )

Issue 48.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1989. ; Ministry and Ministries On Becoming An Apostolic °Hermit Mid-Life Divorce And Alienation The Readmission of Former Members Volume 48 Number 2 March/April 1989 Revn~w t:or Rt~LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Soi:icty of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U,S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~v~w t:oR Rt~t.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w ~'o~ R~:t.t~no~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor "~"~ Contributing Editor ~% ~,~,¢~ Assistant Editors °"'~ March/April 1989 Volume 48 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspundence with the editor should be sent to R~:\'~:w ~'o~ R~:~.t~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; SI. [a~uis, MO 63108-3393. Cnrrespondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'on R~:t.~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write Io the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Computers easily make available various readouts of statistical in-formation. While I was perusing the printout listings of our January- February 1989 issue, 1 began, to realize how much I take for granted the exchange of information in our contemporary world. This international exchange of information through a journal like REVIEW FOR REL~C~OtJS pro-vides one of the most valuable prisms which exist for expanding our worldview and our unders.tanding of religious life. I want to share with you a few of the statistics about the interriational readership. First, I should call attention to the fact that REVIEW has sub-scribers in all fifty states, the District of Columbia, and the U.S. territo-ries, such as Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Guam, American Samoa, the North Mariana Islands, and the Canal Zone. Roughly this grouping takes in about sixty per cent of our subscription list. Our readers are also from all ten provinces of Canada, including the Yukon and the North-west Territories. Subscribers are also present throughout Mexico, six countries of Central America, ten countries of South America, and throughout the West Indies. REWEff FOR REt.~C~OUS has large numbers of subscribers in the English-speaking countries of Europe, such as England, Ireland, Northern Ire-. land, Scotland, and Wales. But its readership is spread throughout Aus-tria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Po-land, Portugal, Switzerland, Spain, Sweden, and West Germany. The subscription lists are large for India, the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand, with a widespread distribution throughout the coun-tries. Africa, too, is well-represented, with subscribers from some twenty-two countries, such as Republic of Ivory Coast, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Lesotho, South Africa, Liberia~ Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Uganda, Zambia, Sudan, Tanzania, Swaziland, Sierra Leone, Malawi, Cameroun, and Mauritania. REVIEW also serves readers in Indonesia, Bangladesh, Thailand, Ma-laysia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Israel, Jordan, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Sin-gapore, and Hong Kong. As editor, I think that I may want to take a win-ter trip to visit our subscribers from Fiji, Papua New Guinea, Gilbert Is-lands, Solomon Islands, and Western Samoa. These listings do not exhaust all the places R~:w~:w FOR reaches, but perhaps this kind of enumeration can give all of us a greater 161 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 appreciation of the catholicity of the articles we read and the religious life we try better to understand and live. Of course, this international dimension is reflected in the authors who submit manuscripts and in the content matter of the articles submit-ted. For example, in this issue, Father Donald Macdonald, writing from England, reflects upon the situation of Church members in some com-munist- dominated countries of Eastern Europe. Brother Martin O'Reilly shares with us his vocation director's experience, working in Liberia and Sierra Leone in Africa. Father Robert Maloney calls our attention to an impressive lay-movement of young people who serve the poor in Italy. Reverend Paul Casper, who first went to Burma as missionary in 1952 and later served as the first American Dean of St. John's Cathedral in Hong Kong from 1982-1986, reflects on the influence of his fellow An-glican, C.S. Lewis, upon his experience of spiritual direction. As editor, I want to continue to welcome readers and writers from all over the world. REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS will continue to be enriched by the .reflections of people who come from different community, mission, and cultural life-experiences. Through this journal, we are being given a new window--varied prisms--upon our world and upon our religious iives.~ David L. Fleming, S.J. Ministry and Ministries John R. Sheets, S.J. Father John Sheets, S.J. is well known to our readers. His last article, "Spiritual Direction in the Church," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1987. Father Sheets may be addressed at Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Ne-braska 68178. In the remarks which follow, I try to distinguish two related but radically different forms of ministry: that which is primordial, the ministry of pres-ence, and that which is functional, activities, some of which are institu-tionalized, others not, which serve to constitute and build up the Church. The ministry of presence is overlooked today. When people speak of ministry they tend to speak only of functional ministry, various ac-tivities which in one way or another build up the Church. However, they forget that the functional ministry is always built on and presupposes a primordial, or deeper form of ministry, the ministry of presence. Though it is risky to use masculine-feminine analogies today, I think that those who can bypass the loaded nature of such language, and re-gain a certain direct vision of those realities, without the prejudices of our times, can spontaneously recognize in the ministry of presence quali-ties which are feminine, and in the mini~stry of function, masculine char-acteristics. I do not mean, of course, that functional ministries belong only to men, and not to women, or that men cannot exercise qualities of presence. The distinction is aimed at calling attention to two related but different modalities of ministry: a mode of being in and with, which is presence; and a mode of being for, which is function. We live in an age which is centrifugal. The self is caught in a kind of cyclotron that empties the inner self as it pours itself into more and more things to do. For this reason in the remarks which follow there is an attempt to recapture the primordial ministry of presence, which alone 163 164 / Review for Religious,. March-April 1989 can vitalize, energize, the ministries of function. In a sense it is an at-tempt to see how the feminine principle of presence lies beneath all other activ.ities within the Church, providing the presence of the Spirit, who alone breathes life into those activities which are ordinarily called min-istry. Without the presence of the breath of the Spirit, ministry in the sense of activity is like those dry bones Ezekiel describes (Ezk 37), strewn about in a valley, lifeless skeletons that have a faint resemblance to a living person. Hans Urs von Balthasar in Elucidations (London: S.P.C.K., 1975, p. 70) describes what I have just spoken of as a kind of "masculiniza-tion" of the Church. "The Church since the Council has to a large ex-tent put off its mystical characteristics. It has become a Church of per-manent conversations, organizations, advisory commissions, congresses, synods, commissions, academies, parties, pressure groups, functions, structures and restructurings, sociological experiments, statistics; that is to say, more than ever a male Church . " General Reflections on the Meaning of Ministry Before going into some specifics in regard to ministry, I would like to give a working description of ministry that will include everything pre-sented in this article about various ways of speaking of ministry. Most of the time discussions on ministry begin with a description of various activities in the Church that are exercised for the good of others, either as individuals or as :a community. This approach is a valid one. But it also tends to play into models which belong to other forms of hu-man activity for the good of any society, not specifically the society we call the Church. Hence, it is possible that, without realizing it, what is secretly at work in discussion of ministry are models coming from hu-man social structures, such as civil society, instead of those that respect the uniqueness of the ministries that belong to the Church. One has to see Christian. ministry in terms of the complete newness of the forms of activity that the Christian calls ministry. The Church, on the other hand, does not exist only as a heavenly city coming downfrom above. It exists in the world in interaction with other societies. It also has similarities with other societies, especially the state, But the danger is to lose sight of the uniqueness of Christian ministry, and to reduce it to secular models. I want to speak of Christian ministry, then, by beginning from a slightly different perspective than is customary. Ordinarily discussion of ministry begins by talking about different activities in the Church as they are exercised by different members. But it might be more helpful to ap- Ministry and Ministries / 165 proach ministry in a reverse direction. Ministries come from awareness of needs that have to be taken care of within the Church. Ministries are always a response to specific kinds of needs. Ministries in the Church then are those activities which are generated within the Church in re-sponse to the needs of the community. In somewhat the same way, all "secular ministries," such as schools, hospitals, civil authority have to be understood primarily as response to needs within the community. There are no ministries that are simply there, self-evident, self-explanatory. Ministries.exist only because they are called forth as a re-sponse to certain needs. They are essentially relative then to the need that calls them forth. They come, go, remain as the needs either remain or come and go. Their importance ranges from fulfilling needs which are essential to the existence of the Church (for example, the ministry of holy ordi~rs), to those which are i, mportant for'its well-being, but not essen-tial tbqts very existence. This,is true both forthe secular notion of ministry, as well as the ec-clesial. But the needs in each case are radically different. Hence, the re-sponse, or the ministry will be radically different. To understand minis-try, then, one has, so to speak, to work backwards, from need to re-sponse. The respbnse in turn depends upon the particular gift, whether of grace or nature, to respond to the need. St. Paul always sees the gifts of ministry in this sense, as Spirit-evoked responses to community needs. Ministry t.hen is called forth by the particular needs of the organiza-tion as social whether the social body is sec.ular or religious. Some of these needs are practically identified.with the continued existence and Well-functioning of the.body; for example, in the state, different levels of auihority are 'called forth from the need to preserve the society so that it keeps its identity and reaches its goals. The importance of the minis-try varies. Its importance is relative to the nature of the need that has to be taken care of. But our question is concernedowith the society called the Church, not secular societies. Ministry in the Church is the Spirit-created response to the unique needs of the new kind of society' that came into the world-through the institutiofi' of Christ and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pen-tecost. The basic needs.to be responded to are those to which Jesus him-self responded. The Church exists only to carry out what Jesus intended in his life and redemptive death. The deepest need of humankind, then, is the.need for redemption. This is the need that Jesus came to fulfill. He had no other purpose. All ministries in the Church are relative to the one basic need, the need for redemption. "166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The primary ministry in the Church, then, is that which he commu-nicated to his,,apostles. He breathed into them his own mission or his own ministry. " 'As the Father sent me, so I send you.' He then breathed on them saying, 'Receive the.Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven th.ey remain' " (Jn 20:21-23). He creates a correlation between his ministry which comes from the Father, and the mission of the apostles, which comes from Jesus. They are to minister to the fundamental need of hu-mankind, reconciliation with God and with one. another. Thus th+ fundamental ministry of the Church which is poured into the Church is to respond to a need at the heart of the whole of humanity and even of the universe itself. If this ministry fails, then the mission of Ctiiist is aborted. The raw fundamental need of humankind remains un-touched. "We are still in our.sins" (see 1 Co 15:17). Within that fun-damental ministry, which makes die mission of Christ present, ,there are other subordinate ministries, each of them in one way or another a par-ticipation in the fundamental response to the need for redemption. All forms of ministry in the Church, therefore, are responses to the radical need of humankind, the need f+r redemption. They are not self-actuated responses like those belonging to other socie.ties. They are di-rectly evoked and sustained by the Spirit ~vhose intention is to carry out in the Church what he initiated in the life and death of Christ. St. Paul uses a striking metaphor to bring out ministry as response to need. He calls himself a debtor to everyone. What he owes them is the Gospel. This is the Spirit-evoked gift to answer the radical need in the human heart. M6re than health, money, food, or anything else, the radical need is for Christ. "I am in debt to Greek and to non-Greek, to learned and Simple" (Rm i : 14). The Need for the Presence of Christ: Ministry as a Mode of Being Present As I mentioned in the beginning, it i~ important at the outset to dis-tinguish, ministry according to two different modalities: (a) ministry as presence,, which is a mode of being-with, what I called above, the pri-mordial form of ministry, and (b) ministry as partiizular activities which are ways of doing that flow from being-for others. The latter has to do with activities which flow from and presuppose ministry in the first sense. Most often when people talk about ministry they refer only to doing something. They forget that ministry as we find it in the Church is situ-ated within what is deeper, the mystery of an existence that has been trans- Ministry and Ministries / 167 formed through grace. This transformed existence brings a new mode of presence into the world. I spoke above of ministry as the Spirit-created response to need. The great absence, and therefore, the deepest need, is that of the absence of God in the hearts of individuals and society. The first mode of "minis-try" then is not some particular kind of activity. Rather it is a mode of presence that penetrates a person's whole being. It is a kind of "glory," or radiance that end/elopes a person's whole life. It cannot be located within any one particular kind of activity. "We all reflect as in a mirror the glory of the Lord" (1 Co 3:18). Like a mirror, Christian existence reflects tothe world the presence of Christ. This is the primary mode of ministry. This "presence" or glory comes from the fact that, as Paul says, we are a "new creation." "When anyone is united to Christ, there is a new creation; the old order has gone, and a new order has already be-gun" (2 Co 5:17). He tells the Christians that in the midst of an evil world they are to "shine like stars in a dark world, and proffer the word of life" (Ph 2:13). All of Paul's exhortations about what to do as Chris-tians flow as corollaries from the mystery of their transformed existence as a new creation. The images that Jesus uses to describe the primary ministry of the Christian do not concern specific activities. He calls the Christian salt, light, leaven for the world. The Christian's pri(nary ministry to the world, then, is not some particular activity, but a kind of epiphany of the presence of the New Creation. The most fundamental ministry then is to live the Christian life in its fullness. It is a doing that is identified with their very being. How they live flows from who they are. Very sim-ply it is the call to be holy. It helps us understand this primary form of ministry if we reflect on the fact that all Christian ministry receives its meaning insofar as it takes on the.pattern of Christ's ministry. In Christ, we see the perfect expres-sion of "ministry." All that he does flows from who he is. The myste-rious interaction of Jesus with everyone came.from an awareness of a pres-ence in him Which eluded all categories and particular activities. Similarly his primary activity in the Church is not through specific ministries, for example, orders,.charisms, and so forth. It is the fullness of his presence filling the whole Church. "He put everything in subjec-tion beneath his feet, and appointed him as supreme head to the Church, which is his body and as such holds within it the fullness of him who himself receives the entire fullness of God" (Ep 1:22-23). "Be assured. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 I amowith you always, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). At center of all particular ministries in the Church, then, is the mystery ~f presence. Christ's own ministry is the Si~irit-evoked response to the most radi-cal needs of humankind redemption, salvation, atonement. "I have a ba, ptism wherewith I am to be baptized, and how I am straitened until it be accomplished" (Lk, 12:50). His fundamental ministry then is to re-veal the Father's love. This love is not only an affective, but also an ef-fective love. The Father shows his love through the redemptive gift of his Son. Hence, the mode of being of Christ is a redemptive mode of being. He is from the beginning the? ',Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." His ministry then is identified with his whole being. No matter what he says or does, it is always the expression of his gift of himself: "This is my body given for you. This is my blood poured out for you." Christ's presence then is a special mode of presence: a re-demptive presence. All particular activities flow from his pervasive pres-ence as the Suffering Servant. The Church itself has only one primary ministry. It is the sacrament of the presence of Christ. It exists only to bring to the world what Christ accomplished through his ministry, to bring.~the world in touch with the mystery of Christ. All of the various particular ministries in the Church, ways of doing, flow from the primary ministry which is a mode of being present. Similarly, the primary mimstry of the Christian is that of pres-ence where God is absent, to be light in the darkness, leaven in a dead world, salt in a world which has lost its savor. The failure to recognize the primary ministry as that of presence has led to many ambiguities, in discussion of ministry today. One gets the im-pression that greater participation in ministry is only (or mainly) being able to participate in many activities which were closed to a person up to the present. But in reality the primary ministry is to respond by pres-ence to what is absence, or anti-presence. This has always been the pri-mary ministry of the saints, canonized and uncanonized. The m.inistry of presence creates an atmosphere that is broader, deeper, more pene-trating, both stronger and more delicate, and more effective while it is more self-effacing than what is brought about by particular ministries. Yet it has to be admitted that this primary notion of ministry is often neglected~ The activistic mentality that pervades our society sees minis-try mainly as involvement in more activities, o~ in activities associated with one form of ministry, that of Orders. But the ministry of presence is not a matter of this ministry or that. It takes in a whole constellation of activities that identify the New Creation. Th.ey are not so much spe- Ministry and Ministries cific activities as Christian modes of being. St. Paul describes this min-istry Of presence as the harvest of the Spirit: "lbve, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Ga 5:22). The ministry of presence, then, takes in all of those activities which are gr0upe~d under the names of the spiritual and corporal works of mercyL''When I was hungry., thirsty., a stranger., naked. ill . in prison" (Mt 25:31f). In particular, it takes on Christ's minis-try as the Suffering Servant. "I have set you an example: you are to do as I have done for you. In truth I tell you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor a messenger than the one who sent him" (Jn 13:!5-16). As Paul says, "Let your bearing toward one another arise out of your life in Christ" (Ph 2:5). All of these activities belong to the Christian qua Christian, not to the Christian as having a particular form of ministry. They are insepara-ble from the Christian identity itself. These activities form the primary ministry of,the Christian. I have spoken, then, of ministry as the Spirit-evoked response to needs. The primary ministry is the response to the need for the presence of Christ through the Christian in the world which still needs to be touched by the redemption. This is the ministry that flows from the pres-ence of the New Creation. Presence in torn is not one or other specific activity. It is a kind of epiphany that shows itself in the constellation of activities that irradiates from the New Creation. Ministry on this foundational level is related to specific forms of min-istry as the atmosphere is to thir~gs that breathe. The specific forms of ministry are lifeless unless they live out of this atmosphere that identi-fies the Neff Creation. Yet it has to be. admitted that popular ways of speal(ing of particular ministries in the Church isolate them from their roots in the primary form of ministry, which is a mode of being present as the New Creature to the Church and to the world. It is on the level of the ministry of presence that really important but unheralded ministry takes place in the Church. It is that which belongs to states of life, such as, for example, marriage. The "ministry" of ¯ mother or father is not this or that particular activity. It is a mode of lov-ing presence that creates a kind of a cosmos of relationships which we call the family. Others, for example, a baby sitter, can carry out particu-lar activities that a mother or father also do. But it is only when such particular activities are rfianifestation of the mystery of presence, the mys-tery of motherhood and fatherhood, that such activities create the mys-tery that we call the family. 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Catholic lay person, like every other Christian, exercises the min-istry of presence. This presence obviously comes to the fore in ways of acting that are spe~:ifically Christian. But those particular activities have their power because they are witness to a presence that makes Christ pre-sent in the whole of one"s life. The p~resence is that of the New Crea-tion, in a quiet hut powerful way emitting signals that show the 'presence of Christ in the secular world. They are like beacohs of light sending rays out into the night, both illumining the darkness an~! attracting people to the light of Christ. Particular Ministries in the Church Finally, after this long buildup, we come to the place where most people usually begin discussions about ministry. They mean particular activities in the Church directed to building up the Church that have ec-clesial recognition. "Above we spoke mainly of ministry as the manifold group of activi-ties that flow from the new mod~ of being which St. Paul calls the New Creation. They are not activities in the same sense as the particularized m~nistries. In the particularized ministries one does something to accom-plish something else. But in the foundational ministry one is not "'do-ing" one thing to accomplish something else. Rather it is a ministry of transforming presence. "To crown all, there must be love to bind all to-gether and complete the whole" (Col 3: 14). "'I may dole out all I pos-sess, or even give my body to be burnt, but if I have no love, I am none the better" (1 Co 13:3). Ministry as a particular activity ~n the.Church presupposes and lives off the foundational ministry which is presence, the presence of the Holy Spirit in individuals making them the New Creation: The Holy Spirit, then, draws individuals into the love of Christ by givingthem gifts to respond to particular needs in the Church. St. Paul's description of.min-istry always presupposes the presence of the Holy Spirit in the individ-ual not simply as an individual but as a member of the Church. Gifts are given to individuals to enable them to fulfill a need within the Church. Presupposing, then, the fundamental ministry of presence, St. Paul speaks of various ministries which the Holy Spirit calls forth to respond to various needs. While each is izalled to the primary ministry of radiat-ing the presence of Christ to the whole (the fundamenthl ministry), there are particular functional-roles within the community called forth to re-spond to a whole range of different needs, some more essential than oth-ers. Paul describes some of these. "And these were his gif!s: some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teach- Ministry and Ministries / .17"1 ers, to the building up of the Body of Christ" (Ep 4:1 !-13). "Now you are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it. In the Church, God has given the first place to apostles, the second to prophets, the third to teachers. " (1 Co 12:18f). However, the primary ministry, the ministry of presence, with love as its animating principle, should animate all the particular ministries. "Be ambitious for the higher gifts. And I am going to show you a way that is better than any of them" (1 Co 12:31-13:1). Then he goes on to describe the ministry of all ministries, the mystery of love as the primary "ministry" to which we should aim. Ministries on this level have to do with the whole social unit, the whole Church. They reorientate a person's whole existence to take on a specific kind of relativity,from Chr.ist,for the Church. This reorienta-tion is such that it modifies in a new way the person's Christian iden-tity. There are three modes in which the presence of the New Creation is radicalized in an individual: the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. Theologically the term "character" describes what St. Paul calls the metamorphosis, the change in the inner structure of a per-son's life (2 Co 3:18). This is the radical reorientation of a person's whole being, first of all, through baptism to become the New Creation, to respond to one's own radical need--the need-for redemption; then, through confirmation which takes presence to a new dimension, orien-tating the baptized person to the needs of the whole Church; then, through holy orders which radicalizes in a person Christ's own gift-presence, making a person "steward of the mysteries of God" (I Co 4:1), a person whose presence is to draw forth the New Creation. The traditional theological term, "character," then, describes three modes of the presence of Christ in the New Creation. Flowing from these modes of presence are different kinds of activity. I have commented briefly above on the mode of presence that comes through baptism and confirmation. These are modes of presence and ac-tivity which belong to all Christians by virtue of their baptism and con-firmation. It is what is specifically called the mini~stry of the laity. Within that mode of presence there are many kinds of activities, as, for exam-ple, that which belongs to those who are married, or to those engaged in secular occupations in the world. I shall comment briefly on the kind of presen.ce that belongs to the priest. It has two sides. The priest mediates to the Church and the world the presence of Christ. On the other side, the priest draws the whole of Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the Church into the presence of Christ. Like John the Baptist the priest is to introduce the Bride to the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom to the Bride. Priestly ministry has a.single purpose: to bring about the New Crea-tion- to nourish, sustain, and guide the New Creation by word and sac-rament. All of priestly activity then is some form of transubstantiation, that is, to change the old reality into the new. The priest's whole being is to transform the world by touching it with the redemptive event of Christ. The priest lives from Christ, for the Churchl' But at the heart of all ministries in the Church is the radicalization that takes place through baptism which brings into being the New Crea-tion. Confirmation and orders have their roots in the new mode of pres-ence of Christ in the individual and the Church through baptism. Con-firmation draws out another aspect of the giftedness of the New Crea-tion, that is, the apostolic dimension to "let your light shine before oth-ers . " Orders is a gift of the Spirit presupposing baptism which em-powers individuals to draw forth from the "old creation" the New Crea-tion, through word and sacrament, and to direct the community in the ways to live out the implications of the New Creation. Problems Associated With Ministry St. Paul describes ministries as the work of the Holy Spirit in call-ing responses from within the New Creation to particular needs within the Church. The images he uses always suggest harmonics or coordina-tion. In a sense, the Holy Spirit is like a conductor calling .forth from each individual player in the symphony that which leads to the harmon-ics of the whole piece of music. One of St. Paul's favorite images to bring out the .sense of harmonics of ministries is that of the body, where the whole exists for each part, and each part exists for every other part, as well as for the whole. "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different people; it is the same God who is working in all of them" (1 Co 12:if). The words "same Spirit," or the "one Spirit" oc-cur about ten times in the passage to show that ministry is a Spirit-evoked response to different needs. The same emphasis is found in Ephe-sians 4: If. "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit. , there is one Body, one Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith~ one baptism, one God." It is interesting that Paul's extensive description of the interplay of the gifts of the Holy Spirit for the good of the whole Church is found mainly in a community where there was the greatest.disharmony, the Ministry and Ministries / "17'3 Church at Corinth. He is therefore calling attention to a special kind of sin, the obstruction of the power of the Holy Spirit in the very persons who are called to build up the body of Christ. But the situation at Corinth does point to what have always been three problems with ministry in the Church: (1) the failure to see minis-try as the Spirit-evoked response to different needs within the Church; (2) the failure to see that each ministry has its meaning not in itself, but only insofar as the foundational ministry of presence animates it; (3) the adaptation of the uniqueness of Christian ministry to secular models. I shall comment on these briefly. (1) The problems in the Corinthian community that turned the sym-phonic movements of the Holy Spirit into groups of warring factions have always been part of the sinfulness of the Church. Basically it is the problem of what in Jungian psychology is called the "persona," the pub-lic image a person seeks before the eyes of others. The symphonic na-ture of ministry becomes discordant when one's attention turns from the ministry in itself to an awareness of the public image associated with dif-ferent ministries. The attention then is not on what the Holy Spirit is do-ing through one's ministry, but on the way ttiat one's own glory appears before others. Some even felt they got a better public image by the fact that they were baptized by a person associated with such an image-creating personality, for example, the eloquent and gifted evangelist, Apollos, in contrast to someone like Paul who apparently did not pro-ject such an image. (2) The second problem which has plagued the Church in her past history, as well as at the present, is tile dissociation of the ministry of doing from the primary ministry of being or of presence. For this reason Paul insists that though the Corinthian Community exercise all of the other ministries, even to the point of giving all they have to the poor, or giving their bodies to be. burnt, yet if they are isolated from th~ min-istry of presence, of being, that is love, (hen all activities are like activi-ties of a corpse. There might be much activity, very busy people, but it does not carry the life-giving power of the Spirit. It is dead. The lack of holiness in those who are supposedly the New Creation has been the biggest obstacle to the work of the Spi.rit during the whole of the history of the Church. (3) The third problem, related to the first two, comes from a failure to recognize the uniqueness of ministry in the Church. Ministry in the Church is a reversal of all notions of service that we find in societies that owe their existence to some natural cause, for example, the state or the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 family. In these societies, a person enters at a certain level, then makes every effort to move to the top, with increase of salary, prestige, power, and the expansion of the "public image" as one works to the top. In the process, whoever is above is a threat because the one above stands in the way. Those who are below are looked on as inferior. Judgments about the importance of different "ministries" are always made accord-ing to the ladder\of the upward-bound movement and then more specifi-cally to what rung of the ladder one is on. This problem has always been with the Church. It was practically im-possible for the apostles to put this new wine into old wineskins. They argued who was the most important. Then Jesus taught them, "If any-one wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and the servant of all" (Mk 9:35). The sons of Zebedee asked Jesus, " 'Grant us the right to sit in state with you, one at your right and the other at your left.' Jesus said to them, 'You do not understand what you are ask!ng. Can you drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am to be baptized with?' " Jesus tells them that if he as master and Lord has washed their feet, then they should wash one another's feet. This is a symbolic way of describing Christian ministry. Paul says, "Rivalry and personal vanity should have no place among you, but you should hum-bly reckon others better than yourselves" (Ph 2:3). I am sure there are many other problems that have to do with minis-try today. Some are organizational problems, others from many of the feminist questions. The ones I mentioned above are attitudinal. They have always been with us, and are with us today. They can be at work also in other problems such as organizational or the feminist issues. I can-not imagine people agitating for a job which, for example, would mean that they would take a salary cut, pay more taxes, have longer hou.rs, and work anonymously. The Christian notion of ministry~ is even more out-landish than that. Ministry and Religious Life In his Apostolic Exhortation on the religious life, The Gift of Redemp-tion (March 25, 1984), Pope John Paul II presents what is probably the most profound theology of religious life that has ever been thought out. He roots religious consecration in the New Creation that comes into be-ing through baptism. Religio6s life then has its primary ministry in what we spoke of above as the ministry of presence. It is foundational to all other particular forms of ministry. But the presence that forms the fundamental ministry of religious life takes on a particular paschal duality. It is to image forth the life of Jesus Ministry and Ministries as the Suffering Servant. It exists to show forth the duality that belongs to Christ's own paschal mystery. The paschal duality means that one and the same reality has two related aspects: the cross (sacrifice) and the res-urrection (the New Creation). The vowed life of the religious, then, is to bring into the world a particular modality of paschal presence. That is the fundamental ministry: the ministry of the paschal presence. But there are particular ministries which religious congregations ex-ercise for the good of the Church and society. When we look at the his-tory of the Church in our own country, these ministries are numerous. Some of the majors ones are education, hospitals, orphanages, care for the elderly, but there are many others, including the contemplative life of intercession for the Church. Other forms of particular ministries have emerged over the last twenty-five years. But it is the foundational ministry above all which must activate all particular ministries. To quote Pope John Paul: "It is precisely this wit-ness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the Redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels" (no. 14). "From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes par-ticularly visible, there comes., as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission . . ." (no. 15). He goes on to speak of the particular apostolates. Then, "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are ex-tremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the apos-tolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriate-ness, these words of Saint Paul: 'For you have died and your life is hid with Christ in God' " (no. 15). Conclusion Questions about ministry are very much with us today. Many of these questions were brought up in the recent synod on the laity. But the end results did not bring much clarification. Perhaps the most positive result was to bring an awareness of the need for a theology of ministry that relates ecclesiology, pneumatology, grace, sacraments, and voca-tion. I am sure that the synod wa~ an important step along the way to clarification. As the history of the theology and development of doctrine show, clarification of issues that touch the life of the Church very pro-foundly is a long process. .What I have tried to do above could be summed up as follows: (I) since ministry belongs to a unique reality, namely, the Church, which "176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is, so to speak, held together 'from above,' through the Holy Spirit, min-istry in the Church is unique, and cannot be reduced to service as~we find it in any human society; (2) ministry is not self-initiated but originated by the Holy Spirit in order to respond to needs, some of which are con-stitutive of the Church, for example, sacrament of orders, and others which depend on historical, sociological factors; (3) the primordial min-istry is that of presence, which cannot be limited to presence of the Spirit "because God's love has flooded our inmost heart through the Holy Spirit he has given us" (Rm 5:5); (4) particular ministries address par-ticul~ ir needs within the Church or the w.ay the Church interfaces with the world; (5) three main problems were singled out: (a) the use of min-istry to glorify oneself; (b) the shift from primacy of presence ("the more excellent way" which Paul describes as love) to a primacy of par-ticular ministries; (c) the subtle adaptation of the gospel paradoxes about ministry ("Then if I, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:14) to promotional mod-els taken from secular societies; (6) finally, I spoke of the particular min-istry of religious, whether active or contemplative: it is the ministry of a special mode of presence, a kenotic presence, which translates the words of Jesus, "this is my body given up for you . . . blood poured out for you" into the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, obe-dience, creating a paschal presence which animates all particular minis-tries. Come and See: An Experiment in Vocation Discernment in Africa Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C., does vocation counseling work in Liberia and Si-erra Leone. His address is Christian Brothers; P.O. Box,297; Monrovia, Liberia. ~lln unkind joke, certainly thought up with post-Vatican II religious life in mind, asks: how do you join a small religious congregation? Answer: join a big one and wait. It is, however, a joke that would not be under-stood in many parts of the Church, particularly in Africa. Let me explain. Between 1975 and 1985 the number of local priests rose in West Africa by a staggering 630%; local sisters increased by 280% and'brothers by 340% (Statistics compiled from L'Englise Catholique en Afrique, edited by Pere Perraud, Pontifical Missionary Union, France, 1987). T.he prob-lem for many seminaries and religious communities in the younger. churches is not so much trying to attract candidates, but to find ways in which to sort out the wheat from the chaff. This article will focus on the ways in which vocation counselors can effectively carry out their ministry in situations where the large numbers applying for entrance to religious communities, the newness of the ,~o-cation to many people, and the particular backgrounds of the applicants make it difficult to accurately assess the. seriousness of an application. If the postulancy is to really be a preparatory period for entry into the. novitiate, and not simply a sorting out of suitable candidates from the unsuitable, then there is need for some kind of system of deselection prior to that. A method for doing so is what is proposed here. It is the result of my own involvement over these past five years in vocation coun-seling in Liberia and Sierra Leone. 177 "17~1 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Game Plan ~ Perhaps the best way to begin is by saying how I don't carry out my ministry: I don't advertise; I don't give talks in schools or churches; I don't have a telephone; I don't have my own means of transport; and I am not fulltime on the job. I prefer, rather, to spend a couple of weeks, five or six times a year on the road, covering some 3,000 miles or so, visiting those who have contacted me. I stay with them in their town or village, and meet their family and friends. Just as an ordinary friendship grows, so does mine with .those who have expressed interest in the life of a Brother. Through the people who have invited me to visit their homes, I have met others who want to know more about the religious vocation. Many people have joined our community through a friend or relative introducing them to me. Since b~ginning in my ministry in 1982 I have developed a network of contacts that r.uns into the hundreds. When my relationship with an applicant has developed past a cer-tain point, I then invite him to "come and see" where 1 live. I invite him to spend ten weeks with myself and the community. Apart from help-ing with his transport costs, he has to arrange his own travel documents and come under his own steam--just as any person would have to do, were he or she to travel and visit a friend in a far-off place. The idea behind the ten-week vocation discernment program is for candidates and the community to experience each other for a sufficient length of time, allowing both parties to get to know each other, and to see if they are compatible and willing to grow together in community, prayer, and service. :Who Is Invited? ~ There are fivemarkers I would look foi in a person suitable for ac-ceptance into the pre-postula.ncy program (I am presuming that an appli-cant is baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, has reasonable references and is in good health): (I) An applicant must have shown evidence of being able to commit him-self to a group within the Church (for example, The Legion of Mary, St. Vincent de Paul, Y.C.S., or a prayer group) for a substantial period of time. Simply "attending Mass'? regularly is not enough evidence of a commitment to the Church within the African context. (2) An applicant must have "nets to leave behind." The economic con-dition of many of the countries in West Africa is such that the vocation . of a priest or a religious can be a very attractive proposition. It offers a person security and status, to say nothing of sanctity! Those straight Come and See / "179 from school are not usually in a position to have ~proved their compe-tence in the art of living and providing for themselves. With few excep-tions school-leavers have the added problem of not seeing entrance to a religious community as anything more than pursuing "further stud-ies." Those who apply, and have no job, I advise to look elsewhere. (3) The family of an applicant must be able to understand what decision a young person is making in asking to join a religious community. There has to be some significant member of the family, not necessarily a par-ent, who supports his intention. The applicant, for his part, must explain to the family that all he is trying to do is to "find God's will." If he finds out that it is not God's intention forhim to be a religious, then he should tell them that he will return home a wiser person; but if it is, then he must explain thathe will be returning to join the community as a pos-tulant with, hopefully, the understanding and support of his family. (4) An applicant has to be able to see that there are difficulties for him in asking to join a religious community. His ability to talk of his'fears about the demands of a celibate life are as good an indicator as any of the degree of his seriousness. If he cannot see this as a tremendous chal-lenge, then I tell him that he probably has not thought enough about the vocation. (5) With regard to the intellectual ability of an applicant, it is essential that he be capable of tertiary education. A person's particular paper quali-fications do not always reflect his academic ability, so it is not appro-priate to apply the same rules for entry to everyone. A candidate should certainly have finished his secondary school education and not beqook-ing to resit exams at a later date. If I am unsure as to the suitability of a person applying for the pro-gram, I will give him the benefit of the doubt; but when it comes to en-try into the° six months postulancy, and I am s.t!ll unsure of his suitabil-ity, I give the benefit of the doubt to the community and ask him to look elsewhere for his vocation. The Rationale Behind The Program The pre-postulancy program, as outlined here, is conceived of as an extension of the vocation counselor work, .rather than the beginning of religious formation. Those selected for the prograrfi--never more than twelve--are fully aware of the temporary nature of the experience, and understand that at the end of the program they may, or may not, be in-vited to apply for admission to the postulancy program. For most of those entering the program, this will be their first expe-rience of living in a multi-cultural environment. Great care, therefore, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is taken to make our candidates feel at home--if not, then they will prob-ably wish they were at home.! We have found that candidates, at this stage of the life in a religious community, prefer to share rooms and need ample opportunity for settling in ,and' being themselves. It goes without saying that the personnel involved in directing the program are comfort-able living with young people and are prepared to trust them. I have found that for a pre-postulancy program to work well, there must be a group of candidates with a specified program to follow. Sim-ply inviting young Africans to come and live with a religious commu-nity and to occupy themselves with some form of pastoral work is not a sufficient basis for helping them understand the meaning of religious life. Candidates need clear guidelines so as to help them negotiate the difficulties in living in a structured environment with others from differ-ent backgrounds and cultures. Growth in appreciation of the meaning of religious life will take place when candidates begin to experience the com-munity as sufficiently safe and supportive so that they can be themselves. However a person presents himself prior to joining the community, he cannot maintain a pretense for long when invited to participate in a strong community experience. Candidates, also, can be so concerned with try-ing to match our real or imagined expectations of them that they find it difficult not to think of themselves as playing the lead part in a drama scripted by others. As far as is possible I make the agenda of our daily living together the responsibility of all and try to foster a sense of ac-countability among them, a sense that "we are in this together." For people to encounter themselves, others, and God in a real way there has to be a ring of authenticity about the experience. I am espe-cially interested in exploring with those invited to join the program their notions about themselves, talents as well as weaknesses; the ways in which they handle questions relating to anger and misunderstanding~ sexu-ality and intimacy, and obligations towards family members--as well as the ways in which they enjoy praying. Matters spe(ifically related to the meaning of the vocation to the religious life, I leave for later on in the p6stulancy. Hopefully, as a result of this approach candidates come to build up their identity as members of the community and as people of prayer on more than the superficial foundations of rules and ritual. Sometimes formators can be afraid to get close to c.andidates, pre-ferring to treat them in h remote fashion. This is, 1 feel, wholly unac-ceptable within a cultural climate where tactile contact and verbal com-munication are so important.~Shaking hands, giving hugs and passing the time of day together are as natural to Africa as the sunshine. Most of Come and See 181 those applying to join us have encountered a good deal of opposition from their friends and family. They need to know from the outset that they are really welcome into the community, not simply for who they might become, (that is religious brothers), but for who.they actually are. That is not to say that there is no room for tough love, but simply that the most effective direction will be given by the formator who is capa-ble of sharing his or her affection for the candidates in concrete ways. A crucial element in thesuccess of the "Come and See" program has been the close presence of professed religious, actively involved in the mission of the congregation, and a novitiate community prepared to welcome candidates, albeit for only ten weeks, into the religious fam-ily. Both professed members and novices have provided a tangible ex-pression of the ideal and the possibility of becoming a religious candi-date. The director of the program is also supported by this in the com-plex business of evaluating applicants to the postulancy. Counseling and helping people discern their vocation is very much, at this stage, a group experience. The value of regular or weekly com-munity meetings, with the opportunity of bringing into the open any is-sue of concern to individuals or the group, cannot be overestimated. If something important to one or more of the candidates is being intention-ally avoided by the community, then nothing of importance will be ta~ked about either. Our weekly sessions start with a review of the pre-vious week and points arising from the reading of the community jour-nal take up the first part of the meeting. I have known that part of the meeting to go on for two hours. The principle of dialogue in Africa seems to be "to talk until you agree"! The length of the program--ten weeks--is long enough for both the candidates and the community to come to have a fair idea of one another, and yet short enough for a person to feel as though he has not burnt his boats by leaving home to enter into a religious community. Having a ter-mination point after ten weeks, instead of say six months, lessens the .chances of early drop-outs and an accompanying lowering of morale 'within the group. It also makes candidates feel free to reevaluate their own decision in the light of their experience of religious life and leave without recriminations, should they feel that such a life is not for them. Conclusion In the five years that the Brothers' Formation Center has been in op-eration in Gbarnga, Liberia, forty-two candidates have completed the "Come and See" program. To date, we have eight postulants, four nov-ices and ten junior professed. Most of those who have left us did so at 1~19 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the end of the pre-postulancy program, and left in good spirits. Those who entered the postulancy, and have stayed with the community, say thai the important thing about the pre-postulancy program was that it was religious life "small, small" and hence made them able to realize the importance of being themselves within a culture (religious life) vastly dif-ferent from the 6he they were used to. They were more able to relax and relate to the idea of becoming religious once they knew that they were accepted for who they were; and not who they might become. If those who enter the postulancy do so with some semblance of realism in terms of themselves, and the firm knowledge that "it. is indeed good when brothers dwell as one," then there is a reasonable chance that they can give themselves fully to the significant step of embarking upon the path of becoming members of the Congregation, and I as vocation counselor will have don~ my job. Assessing The "Moral Integrity" Of Candidates For Religious Life Charles Shelton, S.J. Father Charles Shelton, S.J., has a doctorate in clinica! psychology and is currently an Assistant Professor of psychology at Regis College in Denver, Colorado. A more detailed understanding of this theory of conscience is presented in his most recent book, Morality and the Adolescent: A Pastoral Psychology Approach. New York: Crossroad, 1989. His address is Regis College; 3539 West 50th Avenue; Denver, Colorado 8022 I. Over the past twenty years, it is safe to state that the application process for entering reli~ious life has radically changed. Gone are the days when a simple behavioral observation of the candidate's religious practice or the encouraging word of a religious who knows the candidate suffices for entrance. Instead, the application process for most orders and insti-tutes focuses on a thor~ough social history, detailed interviews, psycho-logical evaluations, and an overview of the candidate's sp!ritual life. Sur-prisingly, little has been written regarding one crucial aspect of the ap-plication process--that of the candidate's moral integrity. This article ad-dresses this issue by offering a theoretical yet practical view of the can-didate's capacity for moral growth. The linchpin which holds together the candidate's vocational aspirations with his or her moral integrity is "conscience." Accordingly, we will provide a model of conscience and suggest a practic,al approach which will be of use to vocation directors and interviewers of candidates. The thesis of this article is that the "moral integrity" of a candidate is a crucial area of assessment and that a perspective which utilizes an integrative understanding of conscience offers the best way for providing a thorough examination of the candi-date's capacity for living the moral life. 183 11~4 / Review for Religious,~ March-~April 1989 ,The Moral Life of the Candidate Perhaps one reason that little has been written about the candidate's moral life is that one simply "assumes" that anyone wishing to enter priestly ministry or a religious congregation possesses an upright moral character. Although understandable, such a position remains question-able. Any vocation director can readily provide stories about candidates who express interest .in religious life, many of whom are ill-suited for psychological reasons, as well as at times "moral" reasons, for proceed-ing with the application process. The question of the candidate's moral integrity, however, has taken on new significance over the past two decades. Several reasons can be offered why serious examination needs to be given in this area. First, many candidates seeking to enter religious life today are ~lder. This be-ing the case, the backgrounds and experience of the candidates provide an often admirable, yet at times puzzling, array of experiences. Many involved in the candidate selection process at times wonder what has re-ally gone on in the life history of the candidate. Secondly~ the psycho-logical nature of candidates often admits to a complex personality struc-ture which is threaded with a variety of motives and psychological ex-periences, not all of which are compatible with the demands of the re-ligious community.For example, I was once presented with a situation about a candidat~ to a diocesan seminary. The candid.at~e had. admitted to several questionable behaviors but now contended that a conversion experienc6 had resolved these issues. Since I did not know the candidate, I refused to offer an opinion regarding his suitability. I did suggest, though, that given the behaviors in question careful scrutiny must be given this person's motives. The capacity for rationalization is virtually limitless. Thirdly, the complexity of today's ministerial roles and struc-tures necessitates a well-developed and well-defined moral conscience Which allows flexibility, sustains insight, and fosters behaviOr~ which are~ healthy and which nurture moral integrity. The recent scandals surround~ ing sexual acting out among priests and religious necessitate a.well-integrated conscience which assists a person in reflecting 6n his or her own vocational commitment. All in all, conscience remains the single most vital human mechanism for assisting an individual's living of dis-cipleship. As a consequence, it becomes important to offer a view'of con- ~Cience that is'integrative and best captures the human desire to live the life of Christian discipleship. As a clinical psyChologiSt my own view is that for conscience to make sense it must be intimately rooted within the very human experience of life; indeed, conscience must arise from The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates / 185. the very depths of human experience as it responds to the self-commu-nicating presence of God's offer of grace. This perspective allows the very moral integrity of the person to be encapsulate~l within the reality of h.~uman life and surface in the very depths of human personhood. Ac-cordingly, I think that conscience is best explained as the decision for other-centered value in the concrete decision of everyday life. That is, conscience serves as the capacity to appropriate more and more the Chris-tian dynamic of love in the existential reality ot~ one's life. It is the one force .within life that serves to break through deceit and self-deception and challenges one to strive for a more authentic living of discipleship. In order to see this clearly, I would like to offer a model of con-science that incorporates seven dimensions. My thesis is that only an ex-amination of these seven features will allow a more complete and thor-ough understanding of a'person's capacity for moral int'egrity. As a way to assist the application process of candidates, I will offer specific com-ments and questions that are applicable for a candidate seeking to enter religious life. Through an eva, luation of these seven dimensions, a more adequate sense of the candidate's moral integrity can be ascertained.~ Evaluating for Moral Integrity Within a model of conscience, the following seven dimensions should be considered. Adaptive Psychic Energy. We are what we focus on and experience. Stated another way, what we give attention to offers insight into the type of person that we are. Psychic energy is required for all human endeav-ors. Indeed, perceptions, thoughts, emotions, attachments, and behav-iors ~all rely upon an adequate investment of psychic energy. At the same time, psychic energy is itself limited. One has only so much energy to invest. Thus, to tend to certain tasks and goals precludes, by necessity, investment in other ventures. Developmentally, psychic energy is best utilized in the successful resolution of developmental tasks. Applicants seeking to enter religious life require careful scrutiny of both their level of identity formation as well as their capacity for intimacy. Most likely, individuals who are without a sense of healthy identity or a balanced and mature sense of the demands, ambiguities, and feelings associated with intimacy are susceptible to the pull of a pervasive dependency or the un-due influence of others (or environmental situations) which deflect needed psychic energy for spiritual growth. Moral growth is most apt to take place when one can bring to one's evolving and (increasingly. con-solidated) ethical self the accumulated wisdom derived from a felt (yet evolving) sense of "who I am" and the felt attachment (yet continual 186 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 self-discovery) that "I am loved and I do love." Some needed questions to consider in this regard include: To what extent does this ~:andidate know who he or sh~ is? How influenced is this candidate by his or her own needs or by the influence of others? With what degi'ee of self-awareness can the candidate speak of a sense of self-definitioh? Does there exist appropriate intimacy experiences in this per-son's life (or for yoUn(er candidates, the maturing capacity for inti-macy)? Has this candidate's sense of identity and intimacy allowed for greater self-awareness that is capable of dealing with increasing ambi-guity and the com, pl~xities of adult (and religious) life? Defensive Psychic Functioning. Healthy growth is dependent upon adap-tive psychic functioning which incorporates mature defense mechanisms. Defense mechanisms are psychic operations whose function is to allay anxiety and.p~rovide a more flexible and adal~table resPonse to reality. Healthy defenses include sublimation, a flexible and resourceful sense of humor, role flexibility, s~ppression's"(the conscious contro~l of im-pulses), and altruism. Needless to say, the living in community and the demands of the chaste life require wide use of these defenses in order that the religious might integrate and deal with sexual and aggressive urges. Community life, the constant demands of the apostolic life, and the need to continually appropriate the ideals of the vowed life require an adaptable and flexible approach to others. On the other hand, there exist a' wide variety of defense mechanisms which are apt to prove un-healthy for living and which in turn stunt moral growth. These include: projection (the attributing of unacceptable feelings to others); externali-zation (the blaming of one's difficulties on others); acting out (the ac-ceding to impulses); rationalization (the making of excuses); stereotyp-ing (theorefusal to allow and accept differences); and compartmentaliza-tion (the excluding of one area of life from self-examination). A classic example of this last defense is the person who lives a credible life as a religiousin most areas of life, yet refuses to look at one area such as sex-ual acting out. As the candidate becomes less able to marshal mature defenses, the inevitable result is a limit of self-knowledge and of reflective self-awareness needed for interior examination. Naturally, this form of lim-ited psychological functioning is bound to impact on the discerning of choices or a balanced and realistic reflection on personal life issues. Some pertinent questions are: Does the candidate rationalize'? exter-nalize? project? and so forth. What does personal responsibility mean for this candidate? How comfortable is the candidate with his or. her ira- The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates pulses? How does the candidate sublimate? How does the candidate deal with ambiguity? To what extent is creativity possible for this candidate? Empathy. Conscience is not only rational reflection; it includes emotional investment and attachment. Empathy best exemplifies this emotional ex-pression since it points to the capacity to bond and show sensitivity to others. Normally, empathic expression is not an issue for religious. How-ever, there exist several areas for scrutiny. Does the candidate overem-pathize? The person who cannot maintain healthy identity boundaries is apt to lose objectivity. Further, when empathizing how does the candi-date deal and integrate his or her empathic stirrings? How self-aware is he or she of emotional distress which arises from pastoral situations which often elicit intense internal feelings? This issue is critically im-portant because burnout (an ever present problem for members of caring professions such as those in religiousolife tend to be) often results from continual exposure of the self to empathic distress (experiencing the pain and hurt of others in pastoral situations) which, over time, wears down the religious both physically and emotionally. This burnout in turn less-ens the capacity for reflection, healthy objectivity, and discerning choice. Self~esteem. Adequate self-esteem is indispensable for maturation. S;~lf-esteem refers to a felt sense of inner goodness and a sense of self-competence. There are several ways self-esteem relates to the candidate's level of moral integrity. First, without a healthy sense Of Self-esteem, a person is psychologically limited in the capacity to admit personal fault and the seeking of forgiveness. Lack of self-esteem leads invariably to over-compensating behavior and desires for control; or, conversely, there exists denial~ of responsibility or rationalizations. Without self-esteem the religious who hurts a fellow community member is disinclined to view himself or herself as bearing responsibility for the hurtful action. An equally problematic behavior that is likely to surface from lack of self-esteem is over-dependency on the behaviors and thoughts of others. In other words, the religious who lacks a felt sense of "inner goodness" is vulnerable to being overly influenced by another. Consequently, such "neediness" is likely to evoke blindness regarding personal action and the rationalization of specific behaviors. Several questions come to mind that could be integrated into an as-sessment of the candidate. First, does the candidate genuinely "like" himself or herself? Is the candidate capable of independent and mature judgment which is open to input and guidance from others? At the same time, are there indications that this candidate is overly dependent on ob- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 taining a good impression from or the approval of others? Guilt. Feelfngs of guilt exact a tremendous toll on the psyche. They can be'the source of debilitation leading to weakened self-esteem, depres-sion, a sense of personal devaluation, and compensating behaviors which often take on a compulsive quality. Still, there is a vital, indeed neces-sary role for guilt in moral development. Healthy guilt serves as a vital linchpin'in orienting one to awareness of personal transgressions and the need for forgiveness. Furthermore, such guilt' experiences induce a re-sponse that is caring and sensitive to the concerns of others. Admittedly, the experience of guilt is one of the most difficult psychological tight-ropes to walk. If experienced too intensely, its effects can be crippling. On the other hand, to deny the experience of guilt deprives the self of' a naturally occurring psychic experience whose function nourishes increas-ing sensitivity and altruistic responding. My own impression is that many religious downplay the vital role that guilt exercisesin the experience of forgiveness, I suspect this is most likely due to many religious' own back-ground and difficult time with guilt feelings. Several questions are pertinent. How. has the candidate dealt with moral transgressions in his or her own life? Can he or she discuss them? Is there a sense of openness and also a healthy distance from these past experiences? What has the candidate learned from these experiences? Is the candidate still reacting to them? How does,the candidate speak of his. current limitatiohs? How does the ~candidate believe that he or she needs further growth? Note here the view of growth from a sense of positive integration as opposed to a compulsive sense of goals to be accom-plished. Idealization. The role of idealization is vital for the development of a healthy moral sell It is within our capacity for 'idealization that the can-didate 'is able to construct a view of the order or congregation and the personal desire"to enter religious life. Idealization speaks of dreams, hopes, desires and what the ca.ndidate wishes to become. It implies a mold~ ing process of gradual evolvement which is shaped from images and hopes yet to be realized. Idealizations indicate the quality of one's emo-tional investment and the underlying values to which the moral self is committed. Several questions are pertinent.~,How realistic is the candidate's view of self? religious life? It is to be expected th~at the view of both self and the order/congregation might be somewhat distorted; and the issue b'(- comes how open 'is the candidate to having his or her idealizations rfiodi-fled? A further question refers to the capacity of the candidate to deal The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates with disillusionment. Since idealizations are so valued, the failure of them to occur or be implemented can lead to tremendous hurt and an-ger. Behaviors emanating from such perceived slights and disappoint-ments include acting out, cynicism, passive-aggressive behavior, ration-alizations. In other words, the negative affect resulting from disil-lusionment can cloud healthy moral reflection and an authentic living of the vows. Teleology. A final dimension of the well-integrated conscience is a re-flective sense of purposive meaning. A teleological perspective is sim-ply one's capacity for rational reflection which provides reasons ("that for the sake of which") why one's behavior is carried out. Candidates to religious orders and congregations, of course, are capable of reasoned and reflective behaviors. The issue here is more the "style" of one's telic inclinations rather than the content of the reasoning. In other words, most people could give reasoned responses for their behaviors. The key for mature functioning, and most certainly for moral functioning, is the motivation behind such reflection. Tendencies to be observed include the following: Does the reasoning of this candidate contain a healthy per-sonal investment? Is there an emotional investment in his reasons? Con-victions are most apt to be lived out when they contain a mature blend-ing of reasoned reflection and emotional commitment. On the other hand, does the candidate isolate affect? Does he or she appear to sepa-rate reasons from the emotions which such content would naturally elicit? For example, a candidate who would,speak of a particularly disturbing experience in a cold and very intellectualized way might well not be aware of underlying emotional dynamics. On the other hand, the candi-date whose rationales are continually interspersed with an impulsive qual-ity or tinged with emotionally laden content might be too absorbed in de-veiopm+ ntal issues or underlying dynamic processes to offer healthy dis-tance and the requisite discerning that is needed for moral decision mak-ing. Conclusion This article has underscored the significance of exploring the moral integrity of applicants in any overall assessment of candidates. It is ar-gued that moral development is not simply a process of doing right or wrong. Rather, growth in the moral life is a complex event best exem-plified as an integrative process emanating within the rooted experiences of human living. In the assessment process itself, an exploration of the candidate's past life history is imperative. Equally important, though, is assessing some quality of the candidate's capacity for moral growth. This 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 article argues that optimum moral growth for the candidate is most apt to take place when the following qualities are present: appropriate work-ing through of developmental issues, a realistic and adaptive view of self and others, a caring sensitivity, the capacity for admitting wrong, a healthy sense.of self-esteem, aspiring ideals that are realistic, and reflec-tive reasoning. Though no assessment procedure can accurately predict a candidate's ability to live consistently the moral life, it is well worth the efforts of those involved in the formation process to address every candidate's capacity for moral integrity. An Easter Prayer Love's force is stron.ger than the pull of dark: It can level mountains, raise the dead To a new life, and strengthen weary feet To walk on waters, piled rough waves of night. Its breath can blow the dying coals to light A tunnel black as pitch and radiate The way round pitfalls and sucking s~nds Even to the long, long corridor's end: Chain love's force in tomb with rock-seal tight, Beat it level on Friday's cross and still After three-days He rises above The morning sun in Tabor splendor. See how He moves unhindered through barred doors, All His glory sta.mped on hand and foot and side: Balm to festered sores of Calvary, Now free from binding shroud and fastening nails. Oh, Beacon Light at the end of the sea's corridor, Ointment spice for hurt eyes and wounded hands, Oh, Summoning Bell, buoyant to all our stumbling feet, Help us, Risen Christ, to walk life's dark waters! Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6400 Minnesota Avenue St. Louis, Mo. 63111 Comprehensive Counseling David Altman, O.C.S.O. Father David is a monk of Holy Trinity Abbey; Huntsville, Utah 84317. At one time or another during our lives, individuals will come to usfor the help they think we can give. Whether or not we find ourselves ex-pert in various kinds of problem-solving, we ought to be able to help them identify problems and be able to present recommendations. Perhaps the key to success in relating to and helping others is to see personal relationships as Christian ministry. The people we meet are, of course, Christ himself, in one of his many disguises. They are also our current pastoral assignments, to be met with faith and self-sacrifical love. Upwards of 85% of helping others consists.in listening: listening at-tentively with compassion and understanding. At times we will be called upon to respond, and this must not be done tritely, but intelligently and constructively. The Approach The secret, if there is one, of a good approach to solving personal problems is to meet each person-situation comprehensively, which is to say, completely. This simply means that we have to use a method which will ensure that problems are not permitted to get by undetected. We want to throw out a net, so to say, which will catch and identify all the difficulties from which a person is suffering. A way to do this is to realize that we human beings are basically three-fold in our makeup: we are physical beings, mental-psychologi~:al be-ings, and moral-spiritual beings, Obviously, then, we can have three gen-eral kinds of problems: physical, mental-psychological, and moral-spiritual. 191 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 These categories are not mutually exclusive since they all pertain to one human person in each case. I have found them useful in my own coun-seling experience because they are complete: they are the net from which no problem need escape, provided that each category is kept in mind dur-ing communication with the person who is seeking help. Competency Few of us are competent to handle difficult cases of pathological na-ture. Of course, those with severe illnesses are to be directed to pro-fessionals with the appropriate expertise. Psychotics need psychiatrists or psychologists; seriously sick bodies require medical attention; and mor-ally ill people need men and women who can show them God's healing ways. Because we presumably are these men and women of God, we ought also to have a certain competency in identifying problems in the other two areas of each person: the physical and the psychological. The body-soul unity is the temple of God's Spirit, sharing intimately in the spiri-tual life of each of us. Therefore our desire to, help the suffering Christ in others ought to carry us beyond spiritual and moral interests alone. Though we may not have the professional training by which we can solve a probiem fully, our working knowledge of various problems en-ables us to provide reasons to a person of his (or her) need for another with more expertise. Simply remarking, "You need a doctor" can be a slap in the face for one who is in pain. We should be able to convince another of his need for help, and perhaps even supply a good name for reference. Difficulties One of the greatest difficulties in attempting to solve individual prob-lems in any of the three areas is to give a suffering person What we want instead of what he needs. When a medical doctor sees a patient, the as-sumption is that the patient has a medical problem. Tunnel vision can take over, and physical medicine is all the doctor can see, whereas the patient's main difficulty may be in a quite different area. It is not un-usual for doctors to listen to remarks such as "I'm not feeling well" and respond with great pastoral concern: "Here, let me give you something for your nerves." This is treating the, sympto.m rather than attempting to identify the underlying cause, the root problem. When a person sees a psychologist with a problem, the psychologist will usually presume that the problem lies within the bounds of psycho-logical expertise. This too may not be the case at all. Remember the story Comprehensive Counseling / 193 of the man who went to a psychologist with a physical ailment that was impinging on his nervous system. "I feel terrible," was the complaint. The doctor responded unwaveringly with talk therapy and persevered in missing the mark. There is little sense and even less success realized in forcing one kind of solution on an entirely different kind of problem. Equally futile and costly is the failure to address real problems in favor of their symptoms. Worse still is the failure of the health-care specialist torecognize a ~prob-lem, then write off the patient as a hypochondriac. This is no solution, only an excuse. When religious or priests are approached for counseling, we nor-mally presume, in our turn, that the person is simply looking for a closer relationship with God, and we proceed accordingly and unfortunately. I remember a person coming to see a religious for years, feeling terrible for a great deal of her time. The counselor came across very generously with saccharine exhortations to a deeper relationship with the Lord. The individual responded with nodding smiles as tears of pain continued to roll down her cheeks. The religious was giving what he wanted, not what the person needed. As it was, the individual had developed a severe case of hypogly-cemia, diagnosed laterby a physician. And, as counselors should know, fluctuating blood-sugar levels have very much to do with a person's emo-tional dispositions. As soon as the suffering person said, "I feel terrible," that was the tip-off for aphysicai condition. After all, we can only feel, bodily, through our nervous-system cells. When they are offended, they are go-ing to let us know about it, one way or another, In addition to hypoglycemia and diabetes, people today are subject to stress situations--and with widely varying nutritional needs. Medical science today knows that under these stress conditions the body gobbles up vitamins and minerals to an enormous degree. Since the B vitamins, vitamin C, and calcium predominantly nourish the human nervous sys-tem, a deficiency is going to show up with contributions toward various kinds of problems: mood swings, nervousness, anxiety, anger, irritabil-ity, depression, compulsive sexual problems, insomnia. Any nervous-system- related problem can be caused or made more burdensome by the severely deficient diets that are practiced today throughout our junk-food land. One person complained of not feeling quite herself: irritable, even biting toward others. I learned that she had just recovered from the flu, Review for Religious, March-April 1989 which is just one of the stress factors we experience. I suggested a vita-min- mineral supplement on an as-needed basis, and the problem was cleared up. A third physical difficulty, also masked as spiritual or psychologi-cal, is the problem of intolerances. Pioneer medical research has shown that all kinds of personal difficulties are really the human body's reac-tion to ~,arious environmental factors: food intolerances certainly, but also paints, finishing substances, and other chemicals, even artificial light-ing. PhysiCal problems are the first options to explore in c~unseling. They are the most quantifiable, and perhaps the easiest to identify, if not to solve. Relationships People have trouble with relationships, and each of us has three re-lationships in life: a relationship with God, with others, and with one-self. Problem areas are identified by determining the quality of these three relationships, and there are many tip-off statements that come your way as a~counselor. They come voluntarily to the listening ear, and they can be elicited .by asking the right questions. For example, a counselor can determine the quality of someone's re-lationship with God by asking for details about private and communal prayer-lives and: about fidelity to known moral obligations :in 'marriage and work-commitments. Listening to descriptions of interpersonal rela-tionships can reveal much. On one occasion I heard, "They're pickin' on me." This could be true, or it could be a defense. In this particular case, "they" were not the problem. I was talking to the problem. We all enjoy the forbidden luxury of finger-pointing, but we should be mos'e aware that whatever we do, whatever~we say, whatever we wil.l-fully think, we are always saying something about ourselves. We behave out of what we are. Often individuals will present their relational difficulties in terms of an impossible situation with absolutely no way out. The answer is the awareness of the great difference between a real relational situation, and the particular way it is described. Simply reframe the problematic situ- ¯ ation. Discard the impossible description, redescribing the circumstances yourself, so as to provide as many solutions as you can. This takes imagi-nation, and first attempts will result in grasping at straws. But hold on to the straws, as they lead to stronger, more promising answers. It should also be clear that principles of good counseling are appli-cable not only to others,,but also to ourselves. In this connection there Comprehensive Counseling / 195 is a check on the judgments we must make in order to help others: the golden rule, the virtue of empathy, placing oneself in the other's shoes. These principles demand questions such as: Would I follow this advice myself? How would I feel were this advice given to me? Would I bene-fit from the behavior I am planning to recommend? The measure of the quality of any relationship--with God, others, or oneself--is the answer to this question: How does the individual han-dle conflict? We are all fair-weather friends of God, of others, especially of ourselves. But the true measure of a person's strength of character and personal integration is how one stands up in adversity. Do we respond to challenges with virtue and resultant, growth, or with vice and rebel-lion in its many forms? : We cannot give what we do not have; we can only give what we have, so the personal problems we carry around are going to show up in relationships with others. Do they handle re!ational conflicts with at-tempts at reconciliation and peace, or are they inclined to antagonism, revenge, and consequent alienation? Vices In the course of counseling experience, we come across the problem of evil: evil circumstances, evil behavior. We are all sinners before God, and before each other, a fact which ought never to be discounted in problematic relationships. We meet people who sin against God, against others, against them-selves. One of the best favors we can do for them is to help them admit and own their own evil. It is a mistake to try to identify every problem medically or psychologically. Wrongdoing must be identified, owned, and corrected. We are admittedly honest and generous in assigning praise for vir-tue and for any good act; we must be just as honest in recognizing and assigning vice (evil habits)and sinful acts. How we speak about this to others is important, but the honesty must be there, because the only way to solve a problem is to' face it. The love of Christ is a challenging love, because it is only through challenges that people grow. We must often challenge others' behavior, challenge their sin, challenge our own sin. It is these challenges which are the cross-experiences of our lives and the meaning of suffering. We grow through challenges into the strength of character that we need, to live life well, and to die well. These challenges or crosses hurt, because growing pains always do hurt. But the rewards are well worth the perse-vering effort. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 After the apparently innocuous complaint "My life seems to have no direction or purpose," aofew questions were able to uncover a some-what profligate sex life, little or no prayer, and a difficult family back~ ground. Well, we are all products of our background, but we never need be slaves of our backgrounds: Psychotherapy can be of great healing bene-fit; so can a humble confession of guilt with attendant petitions for for-giveness and :mercy; so can the healing power of prayer: holding up bad memories in prayer, exposing them to divine remedies. Whatever difficulties we:have had to endure, they tend to force upon us burdens and pressures which are often channeled compulsively as they please. Kn~owing that our two main emotion-vices are anger and lust, we see that compulsions can spell big trouble. As a result~ people gravitate toward giving up dominion over their own beings:~They become slaves of various emotions and habits. Indi-viduals abdicate the kingship or queenship of their beings in favor of an-ger, lust, drive for power, vain ambitiow, money, prestige, or another person. Taking steps to become one's own man, one's own woman, elimi-nates this slavery, and the first and most important step is fidelity to God ~nd his laws governing human living. This is i'eal love, which will in-variably be returned in greater measure, because w'e love a God who will not be outdone in generosity. Conclusion This contribution has also been called comprehensive because it is only an overview. There is no substitutefor common sense in counsel: ing, and no substitute for prayer. The Jesus Prayer o~: another prayer,of aspiration before, during, .and after the counseling session deepens the session in God, exposing both parties to divine healing power and spe-cial graces. We are ourselves healed as we heal others, because with our love, our desire to give.God to others,' we find that the same generous God gives to us in response to our needs. We offer the gift of our lives to the suffering Jesus in others,', and he returns this gift with his own life and gifts: the graces we need to accomplish our healing task well, and the grace to grow through our own physical, psychological, and moral prob-lems into the personal sanctity ordained for us. The Power of Romantic Love William F. Kraft, Ph.D. William Kraft, Ph.D., is well known to our readers. Dr. Kraft is on the faculty of th~ Psychology Department of Carlow College where he may be addressed: 3333 Fifth Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15213. ~1 don't know what's gotten into me, but I do know that I'vemever felt like this. I never thought I could feel so alive, so open, so good. Since becoming friends with Sarah, I feel more confident; it's as though prob-lems don't bother me like they used to. I function better, I'm more open, and life just seems to finally make more sense. Especially when I'm with Sarah, I feel light, energetic,optimistic. It's as if almost anything is pos-sible. "Some sisters label our relationship as exclusive, or God forbid: par-ticular. In some ways, I guess it is. I know I can hardly wait to see her, to spend the weekend with her, to go on vacation with her. And some-times, I think I yearn too much to be with her. And yet, how could some-thing as wonderful and good be bad? True: sometimes we get a bit too physical, but never genital. We really strive to be chaste, but it's diffi-cult at times. I would like to be more physical, to give all, but I know that would be going out of bounds. "Before my friendship with Sarah, I was sort of happy. I was a good teacher and got along okay in the community. But ! always had the feel-ing that I was missing something important, that life should be more than getting by or maintaining the status quo. And I was always kind of shy or constricted. It was as if I had all these flashing red and yellow lights in my mind, and now there are more green lights." This sister has fallen romantically in love--one of our most invigo-rating and seductive modes of love. She has been lured into and is en- 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 joying the experience where almost anything seems possible and almost nothing seems impossible. Feeling more courage and confidence, old problems seemed to have changed and new possibilities have emerged. And her friend seems to be the center of her life, the source of her new vision and strength. Her life is so much more alive than her relatively constricted past. Understandably, she wants more of this new life. Such is romantic love. Listen to this male religious. "Something incredible happened to me this summer. While finishing my master's degree, I fell in love. I met. Carol, and my life changed. It wasn't as if I had a game plan; it wasn't even on my mind. It just happened. "It's great. I've never been so open in my life, especially with a woman. I share everything, and it feels so good. We hold nothing back, and we seem to know what each other is thinking and feeling without even saying anything. It's magic. She's on my mind and in my heart all the time, and I can't wait to see her or at least call her. Thank God she lives in the same city. When we are together, time goes so quickly. A few hours seem like a few minutes. "I think others would say that I've been a good religious. I've done well in my ministry and have gotten along in my community. I am grate-ful to my fellow brothers and priests. So it is difficult to think about leav-ing the religious life, and neither is it an easy question for Carol. We love each other very much, but we also love the religious life. And it has been good to us. "When you asked me what is wrong with Carol, I was stumped. I know she is not perfect, but I don't see or feel anything wrong with her. And I feel so much better myself. I'll take your advice to wait until life settles, and not make a hasty decision that would change my entire life. True, I have known Carol for only four months, but it seems like I have known her all my life. "Why shouldn't I leave. True, it would be difficult to find a good job, and family life would certainly be different. But I could still do much of what I do now, and I feel that being married to Carol, I could even be closer to God. I will, with the help of you, my friends, and God discern my experience. But why would God give me such a beautiful gift and then expect me to reject it?" Indeed, romantic love is wonderful. Although this man has been a very rational, successful, and good community religious, he finds him-self in a serious dilemma: to leave or stay in religious life. His past has been good to him, and he to it, but his future seems to offer an even bet- The Power of Romantic Love / 199 ter life. Being immersed in the magic of love, he feels strongly drawn to this land of apparently unlimited possibilities. Both of these religious are enjoying and being inspired and chal-lenged by romantic love. Their love consumes them, embracing all their senses, mind, and spirit. Radically new horizons of meaning have opened up, pressuring them to restructure their lives. What should they do? In this article I will discuss the nature and dynamics of romantic love, its positive and negative possibilities and consequences in religious life, and ways to cope with oneself and others in service of healthy and holy growth. The Nature and Dynamics of Romantic Love Romantic love lures us into a world where there is nothing dull and mundane, a world that promises a new and better life. It offers us an ex-hilarating and inspiring unity of feeling intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. To experience transcendence passionately can be awe-fully seductive. Romantic love offers us an exhilarating and inspiring unity of feel-ing intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. As romantic lovers we yearn to be with each other, constantly think about and feel for each other, and so it seems touch each other even when we are physi, cally absent. Being without each other, we feel an intense void as well as presence in absence, and being with each other brings warmth, secu-rity, and fulfillment along with this sensuous enrapture. We initially ide-alize each other, feeling that we can do and share anything, and be our most perfect selves. We feel what love can be without its limits, and we want to give, to be,and to receive all that is possible. There is a special magic--a passionate affair with the ideal, an experience of heaven. What happens when we fall romantically in love? Initially we prob-ably feel as though we are walking on clouds, and that everything is pos-sible. We experience each other in terms of perfection, while our imper-fections are denied, minimized or rationalized. We may feel thatwe want to live together, to capture this love forever. This romantic time is one of the most exciting, pleasurable, and satisfying experiences. In the in-itial stages of friendship we may experience new possibilities in testing our limits, risking our vulnerability, feeling more alive than ever before, and willing to do almost anything. We may feel that everything is possi-ble and all right, and that life is radiantly alive. Our romantic friendship usually inspires us to become our best selves, and often new energy and courage provide the way. We can have romantic experiences in solitude. For instance, we may 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 intensely feel the spiritual possibilities of contemplation. We may expe-rience a world of meaning that is transcendent and permanent. To ask ultimate questions and to be confronted with mysterious issues can be a peak experience. T° hear silent music can include the romantic. Romantic lovers--religious, single, or married--initially experience the unlimited potential of each other and concretely celebrate each other's perfection. However, paradise does not last; our romantic time is usually followed by one of imperfection. Sometimes suddenly, instead of experiencing each other as unlimited, we intensely experience our limi-tations. We find ourselves criticizing, obsessed with the other's imper-fections, or perhaps withdrawing from each other. Think of a sister and priest (or lay couple) who fall in love and get married. At first, they radiate with love and cannot stand to be without each other. But sooner than later they begin to test and question their love, and at times cannot stand to be with each other. Instead of diviniz-ing each other, they now demonize each other. For instance, minor hab-its may become irritating. One squeezes the tooth paste from the middle and the other from the ind. His snoring upsets her, while her hair curl-ers upset him. More seriously, she becomes frustrated and angry because he no longer shows his feelings as he apparently once did. He becomes confused and angry with constant complaining about his overworking and in general his unavailability. Whatever the focus of criticism, they focus on eacffother's limits, as contrasted with their past when they en-joyed their unlimitedness. Instead of heavenly, being with each other feels more hellish. Their magic has disappeared. Consider a novice who experiences religious life as a perfect way of living. Particularly in early formation when there is considerable personal affirmation, exploration, and direction, religious life offers extraordinary opportunities for individual and communal growth. However, "reentry problems" may be experienced when a new religious moves from the no-vitiate to living in an ordinary community. Community living seems rnuch~different than it was in the novitiate, or how it was ideally de-scribed. The inevitable imperfection of living with others may feel more like a burden than a joy. A danger is to identify religious life (or any life form or person) with its perfections and possibilities, or with its limits and obstacles to growth. Like any personal (and professional) life, there are more or less problems and opportunities. Positive and Negative Seduction As its etymology indicates, seduction conveys a negative meaning, namely, some thing, activity, or person that leads us astray or into The Power of Romantic Love / 201 trouble. And indeed, this can be the case. However, seduction can also have positive meaning in luring us to a better life. One reason romantic love is important is that it can be a prelude and invitation to a more committed love. Its strong attraction, gentle excite-ment, and erotic idealism make it easier, more enjoyable, and exciting for us to enter love. Since love, especially intimate love, is a risky ven-ture, romantic love makes the entry into love relatively easier, safer, and moi'e fun. It is a delicious taste of heaven. But like food, its satisfaction is temporary, and if we eat too much of that elixir, we can get sick. Ro-mantic love is an intense promise of a more permanent love that is both ideal and limited, erotic and transcendent, for the moment and forever, pleasurable and painful, divine and demonic--a love that embraces and dignifies all of us. If some of us knew the total picture of religious life, especially its hard times, before entering religious life, we may have had second or third thoughts about making a life commitment. Strictly from a rational-istic view, religious life may not have been as appealing. Fortunately our Holy Spirit called us with an alluring voice. Likewise, some of our friend-ships may never have occurred without romantic love's promise of an even .more balanced, wholly, and permanent love. To be sure, not all men and women entered religious life or friendship in a romantic aura. But many did, and few people live without any romanticism. Our spiritual journey with and toward God can also include romantic times. It is not unusual to go through a time--or times--of being roman-tically in love with God. We may suddenly feel that anything is possi-ble, that everything will turn out all right, that everything makes sense. We may bask in a divine light while minimizing, forgetting, or even re-pressing darkness. Although there is much truth in the vision, dark nights will come in service of a deeper and more realistic presence to God. Romantic love is not only a means toward an end. When immersed in romantic love, it is good to celebrate and proclaim our romantic stand in the world. Our experience is a witness to love and often promotes hap-piness for others. We can also build a precious source of memories that can help us gain perspective when going through difficult times. And in-deed as authentic lovers we can, though not constantly, congistently cele-brate times of romantic love. Helping Oneself and Others Think of two religious who care for each other and become close friends. Initially, they may idealize their relationship so that it is basi-cally exclusive. At first, they may wonder how they ever li.ved without 202 /Review for Religious, March-April 1989 each other. Especially if one or both persons have had restricted feelings of affection, now they can feel free to express themselves without re-straint. They feel liberated and more wholly alive. Their "particular" friendship, however, soon incorporates limits and obstacles. For in-stance, they discover that they can irritate and confuse each other, and :they can become hurt, angry, jealous, and perhaps guilty and ashamed. Instead of harboring resentment, or ending the friendship, both persons can step back--physically, psychosocially, and spiritually--and listen to themselves and each other, and hopefully return to renew and deepen their friendship so that it includes both their positive and negative dimen-sions. The challenging ideal is that both the light and dark sides of life be integrated, rather than absolutizing one of them. In fact, these experi-ences point to and affirm what life is--both divine and demonic, light and dark, life and death. When we experience a person as perfect, it is helpful to keep in mind that every person is imperfect. When there are disagreements, past agreements can be remembered as well as agreeing. to disagree. Our challenge is to see potential virtue where there is vice, strength where there is weakness, joy where there is sadness, love where there is hate, life where there is death. Courage and commitment are needed to move with and grow from life's paradoxical rhythm. Although romantic love is particularly enjoyable, the genuine desire to give one's self totally to another p~'esents challenging difficulties. Be-cause of the affective and ideal qualities of romantic love, we may nei-ther want nor perhaps experience any limits, and consequently may yearn to give unconditionally in every way pogsible. As religious we may yearn to celebrate our love in genital experiences, but we can say "no" in serv-ice of a "yes" to our love. What can superiors, friends, or other community members do when they observe religious in romantic love. Particularly when the exclusivity is causing little community I~arm, the wisest approach may be to do noth-ing, that is, to let romantic love run its course from the divine to the de-monic. However, when infatuation occurs or the dark, limited phase ap-pears, interveution may be called for. What you d6 depends on the kind and amount of power and responsibility your superior and others in re-sponsible roles have, as well as what you are willing and able to do, par-ticularly in being willing and able to invest the time and energy on con-fronting, processing, and following through with consequences. A superior may choose to confront a priest with his infatuous friend-ship. Confrontation means to state assertively and with concern what you The Power of Romantic Love / 203. observe in the other's behavior. It does not mean to interpret or analyze a person's behavior, nor does it include verbal oppression or emotional rape. We give feedback, and depending on our authority, we state natu-ral and logical consequences of one's behavior. For instance, if you con-tinue to date this woman as well as isolate yourself from the community, then counseling must be pursued or you will be transferred to another city, or you will be asked/told to leave. It is important to remember that although we impact on one another more or less positively and negatively, we cannot change anyone. We can give others opportunities, feedback, advice, consequences, and so forth, but only they can change themselves. We can only change and con-trol ourselves, and this is accomplished within varying degrees of lim-its. Authoritarian, codependent, and other well-intentioned and overly responsible people may find this fact difficult to accept. Ideally, a radical decision (for example, leaving religious life) or a life commitment (for example, vowed religious life) should not be made in either the so-called divine or demonic phases of love. When we are madly in love and experience no imperfections whatsoever, a life com-mitment is precarious. And we should be equally as prudent about mak-ing radical decisions, those that significantly irnpact on our lives, while in a demonic phase. When life is overwhelmingly dark, any light or re-lief can be tempting. It is better to wait until light emerges in our pre-sent situation--to wait until we make more sense of our struggle and be freer to choose. To paraphrase an old saying: the darkest and coldest time is right before dawn. Ideally, we should also not make a decision for life only out of ro-manticism or infatuation--when there are no limits or imperfections, but rather when we can be open to both the positive and negative factors of our past, present, and future situations. For instance, a brother who falls in love with a sister may be in the divinizing stage of romantic love. When asked what is wrong with his beloved, he may say nothing con-crete. Until he can point out experientially what is positive and negative about her and himself, it is probably better for him to wait before mak-ing such a radical decision such as leaving religious life to get married. A decision to leave, not because of romantic involvement, but be-cause nothing seems right and satisfying is quite tempting. When under enormous stress, we can be duped into feeling that a change in lifestyle will solve personal and interpersonal problems. It is more likely that we will take our problems with us and unconsciously seek a similar situ-ation. It is wiser to look at and deal with the dark side in ourselves and 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 then make decisions. In short, authentic committed love is never perfect or divine, and nei-ther is it always imperfect or demonic. It is a combination of both. When on earth, life and love are matters of heaven and hell. If authentic love were perfect, commitment would not be necessary, there would be heaven, not earth. Because we are a unity of perfection and imperfec-tion, commitment is called for. Seed I .know interpretation has rules, But they should not freeze mystery. Why can't metaphors step between parables, And people and plots mingle? The sower, for instance, and the birds on the wayside who fed, the birds Who never fall unknown any more Than the bum thrown out of the bar And the starving, potbellied African baby. How wide is the wayside'? Past oceans And deserts and ranges and space to Ultimate doing of truth in love? And the rocks (poor Peter), are they always shallow? Have you seen those rock walls on roads Where, in spite of technology, a stubborn Wild shoot adorns the crazy face of An impossible height? or the sturdy Root that splits concrete apart and Frees the seed of a water main (prodigal spill)? Then There's the child who patiently pulls the Tufts from the cracks between bricks And scatters the clumps for the wind To sow next season's crop and chore. But the thistles--I don't know about them. I cringe at the vision of crowns And wonder if scarlet hands too Can drip the seeds of the realm That the sower went out to sow. Clarita Felhoelter, O.S.U. 3105 Lexington Road Louisville, Kentucky 4020'6 The Experience of Mid-Life Divorce and AlienationI David J. Hassel, S.J. Father David Hassel, S.J., is currently Research Professor of Philosophy at Loyola University of Chicago. The contents of this article will be part of his forthcoming book called The Ache of Alienation. His address is Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626, Helen,s husband had confronted her a year ago after a very quiet dinner. "Helen," he had said, "there is something we have to talk about in the living room while the kids are out." They had sat there through a long silence before he said in a rush of words: "I want a divorce; I cannot go on living as we have been--distant, on parallel courses, never really meeting. The kids already suspect something and are old enough to han-dle this now. I've made a decision and no talking will change it. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I've already done. My lawyer has drawn up the legal papers; you'll be taken care of financially." Helen, her voice sounding like cracking ice, had said to him: "Joe, it's Anita, isn't it. That day down at the office I saw the glance you gave her--like the one you had once given me." "Yes," he said, "but we are not going into that." Helen could recall herself slowly getting up, slowly going up the stairs to her room, throwing herself on the bed and beginning to shudder with great dry heaves. No tears, only a terrible emp-tiness. When during the course of the following weeks, she had been alone with each of the children, she had received some additional shocks. Jim, the twenty-two year old just finishing college, put it simply: "Look, Mom, where have you been the past two years? Dad has been home less and less, and telling less and less what he has been doing. What have 205 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 you been thinking?" The twins, Edith and Carol, high school seniors, were rather casual: "Morn, this is the way things go these days; you have to be ready for the worst and this is the worst, no doubt about it." Timothy, the twelve-year old, was inconsolable: "Dad's leaving us be-hind and it's unfair; I hate him now. But what can we do? I guess we just get used to it the way Jerry Kanz did when his Dad moved out." Helen, like many another to-be-divorced woman, had looked back over her life and wondered bitterly: Where did it start to go wrong? Where did I fail? Except for Timmy, the children seemed so casual about it all. Were they simply ungrateful, without any affection for her and Joe or were they covering up their anger and disappointment? Her telephone call to her mother had caused a flood of tears and a scalding anger-- more at Helen's stupidity than at Joe's two-timing. Her favorite brother had only said, "Well, the bastard finally owned upto it, did he?" Women friends had been properly shocked and consoling for some weeks; then the telephone calls became less frequent and one friend fi-nally said to her: "Honey, you have to stop lamenting and get your life together--without Joe; the sooner the better." All her doings had be-come meaningless: cooking meals, house-cleaning, shopping, bridge-clubbing, fulfilling the immediate needs of her children, attending Mass, telephoning friends, volunteering at the hospital, watching TV late into the night. Then the depressing guilt-fits began. Why were her children so un-feeling unless she had failed badly in their upbringing? Why had she not noticed sooner her husband's wandering and done something to woo him back? Had she become an insensitive creature herself? Were all her friend-ships superficial, revealing her own lack of depth? Was all her busyness merely a way to hide from herself who she really was: an empty shell of a woman? How could even God find time for her anymore? Actually her past seemed gutted, her present confused and her future dark with anxiety. The Woman Religious' Parallel Experience of "Divorce" Helen's experience, in one form or another, is that of thousands of wives and mothers as divorces continue to multiply across America. But is it so very different from the experience of not a few women religious who at mid-life review the past ten or twenty years of their own lives and wonder where their prayer-union with Christ has gone? The woman religious has been living the regular routines of a life consecrated to Christ: spending some time with him before breakfast and before heading to bed; taking care of his people in hospital, school, day- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation care center, parish, and social work office; making some friends along the, way; watching TV and going for occasional walks; attending family gatherings, and centering her life in daily Eucharists. But in everything she feels hardly any feedback of gratitude or joy. If she is a social worker, she may have been called a meddler by the fam-ily whose children she has seen through hospitals, remedial reading courses, and angry bouts with their parents. The high school teacher of twenty-five years' experience may have been told by a lay colleague that she is twenty years behind the times in her teaching techniques and thirty years behind in her understanding of today's high schoolers. The sister-nurse may be overwhelmed with the ugly fact that her order's hospitals are now big business and that she had better play it safe with charity cases lest the hospital's budget-report show red ink. An almost exhausted sister may be informed by her superior that if she cannot take this job of religious coordinator at the disorganized St. Dismas parish, she had better find another job.to earn her way. Meaning seems to have drained out of her work. The once beautiful routines connected with teaching, nursing, administrating, catechizing, parish organizing, and social work-ing feel drab, spiritless, and unending. Meanwhile, because of her busy dedication to her order and its works, she has allowed her own brothers and sisters to fade out of her life as they moved to the distant coasts and as she wrote less and less ¯ often. Her parents have become elder.ly, somewhat absent-minded, eager for her presence but hardly able to carry on a relaxing conversation, and evoking melancholy in her at their decline and helplessness. Her sister-friends are as busy as she; glad to see her and to chat for a time, but al-ways on the move to another appointment: little time for long leisurely conversations, not many fun times." Because she is one of the few younger sisters in tier older community, she may have to assume greater responsibilities without any contemporary nearby in whom to confide and with whom to laugh at life's crazy antics. This is a new aloneness never felt in her initial formation. The simple joys of life seem few and far between during these periods of intensely felt alienation. She wonders: is all my past life for nothing? Have I lost the respect of my own family; those who first gave me life and hope? Have I missed out on community life? Or did it never exist and I pretended, that it did? Why has my ministry lost its zest? Have I begun to give up on it and, if so, will I ever find a second ministry and trust myself to its demands for a disciplined life of sacrifice? Do my superiors and fellow religious value me for myself or only for what I can do? Are we all just worker- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 bees in the religious hive? Where is the reality of my prayer life? God seems so distant, so uninterested in me, so unlike the intimate friend of my early religious life. Around me I seem to find so many happy fami-lies and fulfilled career women. Or am I just romanticizing their lives out of my own drabness? Then begin the guilt-fits. Mow did my life dissipate into merely con-stant duties, deadlines, hurried moments of leisure with friends, commu-nity tensions, and superficial moments with Christ? How could I have ¯ let it happen? Does all this mean that I never had a vocation to religious life or that religious life in my particular group is now ,antiquated and no longer viable in ou~ present culture? What is my future--if anything? Who but a recently divorced iaywoman could Fully appreciate these questions and feelings 0f the woman religious. The divorced man, hear-ing a man,religious venice similar questions and feelings, would surely resonate to these pains of the heart and mind. The Feel of Alienation from the Church Among the Divorced and the Alienated The suffering asked of divorced men and women and of alienated re-ligious is scandalous not only to them but to the people who love them dearly. The shock felt by the "divorced" is such that at times they do feel isolated from their family (blood or religious) and perhaps even from Christ's Church. Their great temptation is to cut loose from past ties; to be free from all the b~aggage of the past~ They ask themselves: "Why not just leave the family or the religious order and forget any service of the Church?" It seems so much easier simply to concentrate on a career and, if the occasion offers, to form a small manageable group of new friends. Later some of these "divorced" will leave the Church deliber-ately and others will slowly drift away complaining: "'I'm tiredof fight-ing Church bureaucracy and small-mindedness." There is no denying that, in the twentieth-century Church, the petty pride of place, the drift towards disorder, the trickery practiced in the name of the kingdom, the mechanical use of the sacraments, the eloquent extolling of poverty by comfortable clerics, andthe depreciation of women's ministry are all very much alive. In fact, Christ found them quite active in his first century Church: the women's announcement that they had met the risen Christ was called "women's gossip"; John and James used their mother to agitate for their occupying the seats of power next to Christ; Paul had to confront Peter about using different standards for Jewish and gentile converts; Jerusalem converts tried to saddle all gen-tile converts with the hea~y apparatus of Judaic Law; Ananias and Sa- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation / 209 phira embezzled the common holdings of the Christian community; some of the apostles, notably Judas, deplored Mary Magdalen's ministry to Christ as frivolous. This is the kingdom, God's people, as Christ de-scribed them in the parables where the net is thrown into the sea to haul in both good and bad fish or where the wheat field is sown with weeds by the enemy. The problem is not that scandal is always in the Church but that faith-fulness is needed to live through the scandalous events amid feelings of alienation. Men and women religious suffering alienation from their com-munities need to share their lives with divorced laymen and laywomen if they are all to remain faithful to the Church and to their families, lay and religious. The pooling of experience, the companioning in common sorrows, the cooperative attempt to let the Church know their agony, the working together to build better futures for each other and for the Church, enable the divorced lay people to take heart and the alienated religious to remain loyal. One woman religious who has been offering a program for divorced women in her motherhouse found that the prayers of the retired sisters gave solace to the divorced women, while the faith of the divorced women amid severe mental suffering proved encouraging to elderly sis-ters, some of whoin felt~ intensely their seeming uselessness to the world and to their Church. One of the divorced women approached this woman religious directing the program and said to her: "Were you divorced be-fore you entered religious life? You seem to read us so well." Aloud the sister said: "No, I've never b~een married," but whispered inside her-self "But I have experienced divorce--from my congregation." Recently women and men religious groups have been welcoming some divorced into their communities and finding that these women and men bring in a dimension of life much needed by the religious order. The divorced woman or man has gone through devastating bereavement from all that once gave meaning t,o her or his life. Through this stripping, they have rediscovered their own personal worth, having learned how to dis-tinguish life-roles (mother or father, wife or husband, secretary or car-penter, daughter or son, sister or brother) from their own selves which play out these roles. The divorced woman, for example, no longer de-fines herself merely by what she can do, but by what she can be--first in herself and then for others. This, of course, affects her relationship with Christ. She is devoted to him, first of all, for his own sake; and she expects his affection to be directed towards her for herself and not sim-ply for her accomplishments. Neither God nor herself is made out to be 210 / Review for Religious~ March-April 1989 an heroic workaholic. Such a mature attitude can be benevolently conta-gious. On the other hand, women and men religious have something to of-fer divorced laywomen and laymen. After all many religious have had to deal with the mid-life transition.2 They have come to see that the "yes-terdays outnumber the tomorrows" and that they have to trim their ap-ostolic sails accordingly. Their eqergy is less, their talents are not quite as rich as they first thought, they must drop some projects totally, oth-ers partially, in order to do the central works. At this point envy of the younger, the more energetic, and the more talented can creep in. Amid these tensions, one becomes more aware of personal shortcomings, pre-tenses, sins of revenge .and cattiness, and suddenly vehement sex-drives. This discouraging aspect of life is often allied with a sense of being enmeshed in a great bureaucratic machine (at the job or in the congrega-tion o~in work with the local government) with which one must battle for personal values without destroying oneself or the organization. At this same t~me friendships take on greater importance and one must re-order one's commitments to people, work, and God. Here the man and woman religious~face bereavement from parents and older friends who die. They have moved away from pet projects, from. former work that gave much satisfaction, and from favorite attitudes or ideas that no longer fit the times.' Death, including their own,.seems at times to totally sur-round them. But at the same time, if the man and woman religious can ride all these waves with some gratitude and graciousness, the slower pace al-lows them to have time for more care of others. A warm Wisdom, the fruit of keeping a sense of humor amid much suffering, can pervade their every day. A new stability may take shape at the center of their being. In their lasting friendships, they may rediscover their faithful God. And all this they can offer to divorced laymen and laywomen out of the very alienations which they had felt towards their own congregations. How bountiful the divorced lay people and alienated religious can be towards each other and thus towards the people of God--even though at times they feel so utterly empty and find themselves walking laboriously as though in desert sands. This desert experience has been chronicled and deserves our attention since out of it can come a conversion which will reveal a new self, a new God, and a new world. The Desert Experience of Transition Before Conversion Two women have given us brutally honest yet sensitive accounts of Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation their transitions from one congregation to another. The great change seemed to them like a lay person's divorce and remarriage with its awk-wardness, periods of loneliness, and rediscovery of self and life.3 Sr. Marie Conn found the loneliness of transfer to a new religious commu-nityunique in its roots and in its intensity. For she left behind a vibrantly rich past with only a vague future in mind. Besides, those with whom she would live her present and future had little idea of her past and she, of their past. When one starts all over with new and slowly developing friendships, with fresh routines, and with no one able to enter into one's more precious memories, one is thrust into a new relati

Issue 34.6 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous is edited by faculty members of the School of Diwnlty of St Louis Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 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. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jot 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. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1975 Volume 34 Number 6 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. Unmarriageable for God's Sake Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen studied nuclear physics in Amsterdam, Holland, and in Rochester, N.Y. He was novice-master in his home province (Netherlands), has a broad experience in Working with priests and religious as spiritual director and lecturer both here and abroad, and is presently in charge of the combined Flemish (Belgian)-Dutch novitiate. His present address is Priorijdreef 21; 1160 Brussels, Belgium. The Old Testament often speaks of virginity, but always the reference is to the virginity of the people as a whole; e.g., Jeremiah says, "I build you once more; ¯ you shall be ri~buiit, virgin of Israel" (3, 1-4), and again, "Come home, virgin of Israel, come home to these towns of yours" (31, 21). In Isaiah we find the same concept: the chosen people as a whole is the virgin bride of Yahweh: Like a young man marrying a virgin so will the one who built you wed you, and as the bridegroom rejoices in his bride, ,so will your God rejoice in you (62, 5). For now your creator will be your husband, his name, Yahweh. Sabaoth; your redeemer will be the Holy One.of Israel, he is called the God of the whole earth (54, 5). We can make the general statement that in the Old Testament virginity is never lived in a personal way. On the contrary, lJersonal virginity is far removed from the mind of an Israelite. Fertiliiy was a blessing, and the com-mandment of Genesis (1, 28) "Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth" was very sacred to the Jews. This article is a chapter from Father van Breemen's forthcoming book, Called by Name, scheduled to be published by Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., in January, 1976. 839 a40 / Review for Religious, ~'olume 34, 1975/6 The natural longing for posterity found in all people, but especially in more primitive people, was deepened to a far greater degree for the Israelite by,the fact that the messiah had been promised as one of his race. To the Jews, therefore, the role of father and mother became sacred in a heightened ~ense. They had many sayings which illustrated their convictions in this matter; e.g., "Who does not marry is like a person who sheds blood," or ". is like a murderer!" A person who did not marry had the power of life within him but did not transmit it. Even as lateas prophetic times Jeremiah's celibacy was a shock. The most striking example of this sacredness of parenthood is found in the Book of Judges (11, 30-40), where we read the story of the daughter of Jephthah, who was to die for a mistaken and unlawful interpretation of a vow made by her father. She accepts her death submissively, but for the young girl, even worse than the death itself to which she is condemned is the fact that she must die without having been fruitful. "Grant me one request," she pleads, "Let me be free for two months. I shall go and wander in the mountains, and with my companions bewail by virginity." The whole longing of the Israelite for children is heard in that plea, as it is also in the words of Rachel: "Give me children or I shall die" (Gen 30, i). It is only in the New Testament that personal celibacy becomes a factor in human life. This is most probably connected with the incarnation and demonstrates that only an incarnate God can enable us to live as celibates, since it is the person of Jesus Christ who is at the heart.of celibacy. Virginity can be realized only because of Christ and with Him since it is only a con-tinuous focusing on Him .which enables us to persevere in purity of heart and flesh without becoming turned in on ourselves. Matthew lists three categories of eunuchs: There are eunuchs'born that way from their mother's womb, there are eunuchs made sot by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (19, 12). Because "eunuch" is such a horrible word, it is a very humbling experience to dwell upon the reality of this mystery. A eunuch is one who is incapable of human marriage. The very starkness of the phrase is in .one way the highlight of all considerations of the mystery of celibacy. "Eunuch" sounds so much like "freak," an incomplete person, one somehow lacking an essential that con-stitutes him human. It intensifies the harshness of the truth which the word "virgin" softens somewhat. On the surface, to "make myself unmarriageable" seems to imply that I should make myself as unattractive as possible so that no one will be interested even in looking at me. But that would be a shallow and exterior approaqh to being unmarriageable. A more valid understanding of the mystery of celibacy would be this: a woman, very much in love with her hus-band, would have eyes for no other man. In this sense, she is no longer marriageable for any other man. She is bound and committed to this one alone--freely, happily. The real mystery of consecrated celibacy lies. in the reason for it, expressed by Christ in the words "for the sake of the kingdom of Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 841 heaven." The kingdom is where God truly reigns,~where the will of God is fulfilled entirely; in other words, where God is fully God. In the history of salvation the kingdom of God so far has been fully realized only in Jesus Christ and in His mother Mary. In the person of Jesus, God's Will was totally accomplished; He is the kingdom of God enfleshed. From His time onward, celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is possible because now it can find inspira-tion and impetus from contemplation .of the kingdom as shaped in Jesus Christ. This is another way saying that Jesus Himself is at the heart of New Testamental celibacy. In its final analysis, celibacy means being captured by Christ. He is our life (Col 3, 4), fascinating us so completely that eventually we become un-marriageable, In its deepest sense, this is what celibacy means. It is not on the basis of pros and cons that one undertakes freely to live one's entire life in celibacy, nor is it just a state of being unmarried; rather, it is existentially be-ing incapable of marriage. When Jesus says there are eunuchs that have made themselves thus for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, He is pointing out that true celibacy is achieved not in a single leap, but by a process of slow growth. The Rule of Taiz6 says, "This work of Christ .in' you demands infinite patience." When a person takes first or even final vows, usually he is not yet unmarriageable. What he expresses in his vow is a two-fold covenant: he professes publicly for everyone to know that he recognizes as an ideal for himself the state of being unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom of heaven; and he promises that he will put forth every effort to achieve this goal. He will not try to preserve himself marriageable as long as possible; on the contrary, he will try seriously, honestly to make himself unmarriageable. It is a long, .sometimes difficult road to become unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom, It can take years, even decades, to. progress far on this narrow way of being fascinated by Jesus Christ, but by his vow the religious promises to advance as quickly as he can. He will not procrastinate~ This is his ideal, and he will run to meet it. Only when the point of really being unmarriageable has been reached has celibacy become fully mature. In a book written for priests, La Peur ou la Foi, Maurice Bellet has observed: Suppose one morning a priests reads in his newspaper that the Pope has changed his mind on the En-cyclical Sacerdotalis celibatus; from now on celibacy will be optional for priests. If that priest at this point has to make up his mind what he is going to do--make use of the new opening for marriage or remain celibate--th~ mere fact that he has to deliberate indicates that he is not yet existentially un-marriageable. Thus far, he is only juridically unmarriageable. Genuine celibacy goes so much deeper than a law because it is the interiorization of the goal of that law. The content of celibacy is eminently positive. It involves not just being un-married, but being fascinated by another--Christ--to such a degree that marriage is no longer possible. Celibacy does not mean that on~ has lost something, but rather that the celibate has found Someone. In essence, celibacy is love which can no longer wait; that is what makes it fruitful. There 842 / Review for Religious," Volume 34, 1975/6 is another dimension, at once ecclesial and eschatological, which enhances the value of celibacy and helps to prevent it from becoming myopic or introspec-tive. The celibate stands as an enduring witness that all Christians are pledged to a new order of grace, the fullness of which is that kingdom where no one will be given in marriage. He thus becomes by his celibacy a prophetic voice, recalling to all men that there are ultimate values not wholly attainable in our present life, and that it is only at our journey's end that we shall experience the fullness of God's giving. En route, there is only one thing necessary: God's love as revealed in Christ. Celibacy is a pilgrimage, a tremendous adventure. Along this way we meet magnificent people who have really become unmarriageable because of God. Unhappily, we also meet some who in their celibacy have not come to complete fulfillment, but have become bogged down along the road. Negative Celibacy There is a danger, of course, a risk involved in celibacy because there we lack the incentives provided by marriage and the care of a family. This means that celibacy can lead to a coldness of heart, a lack of affection, possibly even to laziness. The only radical remedy against this danger is to focus all our attention on the heart and inspiration of celibacy, for unless it is based on deep attraction for the person of Christ, celibacy can be irresponsible. In this lies its real challenge. It would be unrealistic to ignore the fact that the celibate life in-volves a genuine deprivation, something which we miss because we are celibates. 'Jesus answered the man who wanted to follow Him wherever He went: "Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Lk 9, 58). So, no home of His own for the Son of Man, no home of his own for the celibate! One who follows Christ in the celibate why has no conjug~d ties--no husband or wife or children--and he m'isses the warmth these can" provide and the appeal they can make on him. This is the negative element in celibacy. There is also a positive element: viz., the fascination which Christ has for this person, the dedication to the apostolate or to contemplative life, the commitment to the kingdom of God, the being available for the people of God. In every celibate life boththe positive and the negative elements are always present, but in varying degrees, and in this lies the differing quality of celibacy. We call that a negative celibacy when the negative element predominates even though .there is, of course, some minor positiveelement present. The first im-pression this type of celibacy gives is a kind of frustration, .a deprivation; something is missing. We speak about a positive celibacy when--the negative element being present to a certain degree--the over-all impression is that of a wholesome life at once fulfilled and appealing. It is the celibacy in which negative elements prevail which presents the greatest difficulty, yet its problems are not ineradicable. There is always possi-ble a genuine conversion which will transmute the negative, making it genuinely positive. This conversion may require that the religious relinquish some things in or.der to find Christ and to contemplate Him more deeply so Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 043 that he may fill the emptiness. Perhaps there is .some foreign element blocking Christ's way in the life of negative celibacy, and until this is removed, the joy of.positive celibacy remains elusive. It is important that there be a genuine transformation of this negative celibacy into a positive one, a transformation that is truly worth the price it exacts. There is a second way to cope with negative celibacy: to seek dispensation from the vows and then to leave in order to search for happiness elsewhere. Apart from these two radical ways to overcome negative celibacy, there are also two forms of compromise open. In these methods of temporizing the celibate does not break his promise by giving up his vows, nor does he take the radical measure to make his celibacy really positive, but he seeks the in-between solutions of either sublimation or compensation. In sublimation the gap which is there and which is predominant is filled up with important human values. In themselves,~of course, these human values were not the reason why the religious chose celibacy, but having more or less failed in the option he did choose, he tries to make the best of the situation by sublimating it into human values which in themselves are good: work, relations with others, influential positions, broad culture, wide interests. The pain of not being able to'marry, of not being father or mother, is assuaged to some extent by these other values. People attempting this sublimation work very hard; they frequently carryoalmost a double load, and others may marvel at their efficiency and their energy. Outwardly, their life seems anything but a failure. And yet, deep down, :this celibacy is a failure because it was never in-tended for this excessive work-load. Or such a person may seek out many social contacts and relationships, many friends, Or it may be a devotion to study or a drive for power which preempts his attention. In all this, the reac-tion is a sublimation of tlae real core of celibacy. The other type of compromise for coping with negative celibacy without ~ibandoning it completely or transforming it into the positive is compensation, basically the same substitution of a lesser value for the real one, but here the human values used to fill the gap are no longer important ones, but rather of a lower species: insipid literature, curiosity, shallow hobbies. Neither of these ways out of negative celibacy--sublimation or compen-sation- is a sufficiently radical solution to the problem. The only effective way to combat negative celibacy is to grow into positive celibacy, that is to strengthen the positive element by means of a deeper, more intent focusing on the kingdom of heaven incarnate in Jesus. True Celibacy Since the deepest root and inspiration of true celibacy is the person of Christ, the people of God also play an important role in celibacy, and this in two ways: dedication to the kingdom of heaven always means dedication to the body of Christ as formed by the .people; and celibacy needs the support of the people of God and, even more pointedly, the support of the community. Celibacy is not constituted by turning away from the people; rather it is con- 844 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 stituted by the fact that through the celibate God turns Himself towards the people. A celibate is not divided, torn between Christ and the people. He lets his affection for the people coincide as completely as pos.~sible with Christ's love for them because he is taken up in this covenant relation between God and His people. Thus, a person who gives himself to Christ gives himself to the Christ who offered Himself for everybody; therefore, genuine dedication to Christ is always dedication to all whom we encounter. In fact, celibacy always implies ,the call to devote oneself to the~ neighbor with Christ's own love. If we really give ourselves to Christ, He will enlarge our hearts so that we can em-brace many and live truly fruitful lives. This dedication to Christ, however, is lived in the darkness of faith and the longing of hope, and often the fruitfulness of our lives is not apparent. We commit ourselvesto Christ, but we have never seen Him. We have to live with a certainty that has no basis in this visible world; there is no hand to hold. The man whodives thus is brave and mature: no one who has seen this or who has tried it hims~elf will deny that. A celibate life is a courageous life, one that has a kind of poverty about it because it offers nothing tangible to which I can cling. I can never grasp God. Sociologically, the poverty of celibacy is often looked upon as something to be pitied. This can be a grace to be.exploitedmone that the celibate would betray if he sought to create an impression of heroism before the people. Instead of trying to elevate celibacy to a pedestal, let him live it as one of the poor of Yahweh: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and 1 have let myself be' seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughing-.stock, everybody's butt (Jer 20., 7). In some of our recent theologizing it is possible that we cross the narrow line between giving reasons for the hope that is within us and giving proof for the validity, of our way of life. Underlying this is the sometimes barely acknowledged desire to make ourselves important to .ourselveS. Nor should the celibate claim that his celibacy makes him completely available to the people, because such a claim would be too pretentious, giving him an honor which he does not deserve. Celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven does not need anything outside itself to justify it. In itself it is a ser-vice, provided that it is lived to the full. The ultimate service I render is not that I have more time, that I am more free for people, but that I have pledged as my most constant ideal openness to God and the public testimony of the reality of God in my life. Celibacy is not to be admired by the people. All that is important is that I should.be captured by Christ and spread the news 0f His love. It is enough that religious be a "light to the world~" a beacon to travelers, not so much something for people to admire, as a light for them to see the direction in which they are to go. The very simplicity in which we live our celibacy can in itself be a sign which silently and humbly promotes the reality of God. This is the greatest service we can render to people by our celibacy--to show them that God is so real that He can truly fill a human heart and can Unmarriageable for God's Sake /,,845 bring a human life to fulfillment. Cardinal Suhard says: "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda nor even in stirring up people, but in be-ing a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not. exist." There is a final way in which other people enter into our celibacy: for a truly celibate life we need the support of others. A cold community which affectively isolates a celibate can do great harm to the growth of positive celibacy in its members. We can never come to God completely by ourselves; we need the inspiration and affection of our fellowmen. It is not that we should claim that support or demand it; that is a most sure way of ruining it. But we should be able to hope for it. And we certainly should be poor and humble enough to be receptive to it when it is freely and purely given. This means that the people in the parish are partly responsible for the celibacy of their priests, and members of a religious community have mutually promised to be respon-sible for one another's celibacy. We are to be living signs of God's love. Celibacy would be a mere caricature of the gospel if it did not make visible God's love in the human community: "See how they love one another!" Commitment in a Changing World Sisters Margaret Farley and Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. This article represents the proceedings of a seminar sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy on the topic indicated in the title. The proceedings were edited for publication by Sisters Margaret and Doris. Sister Doris resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446; West Bethesda, MD 20034. Introduction For many years now religious have been accustomed to hearing that one in three marriages ends in divorce, so that we are no longer startled by that bit of information. More recently, however, we have also observed that the number of dispensations from religious vows now exceeds the number of religious professions, and, in some regions, laicizations outnumber ordinations. Furthermore, in today's professional world several career changes are ex-pected in one professional lifetime. In such a context of flux and imper-manence, can a commitment made for a lifetime have any relevance or viability? It was to explore this question that the Sisters of Mercy undertook a study pr6ject on "permanency in commitment." Religious communities have not been exempt from the currents of change: the reluctance of younger members to commit themselves for life, the waning of vitality in the commit-ment of some older members, and the increased number of dispensations from religious vows all testify to a new interpretation of "permanence" as a value. It can certainly not be concluded that the challenge to permanency in cofia-mitment springs from a lack of generosity. Rather, in many cases it appears to be the result of new insights into the developmental character of the human person, into the dynamism of change in all areas of life, and into the inter-relationship of all aspects of human life, sothat change in one area necessitates an adjustment in another. Nor, on the other hand, can it be concluded that the situation has so changed in the last generation that a case can no longer be 846 Commitment in a Changing World made today for lifetime fidelity to commitments. The lives of untold thousands testify to commitments freely'entered into and fruitfully lived out in ever-unfolding contexts. The purpose of the study reported here, therefore, was to bring together the new insights of contemporary research and reflection and the lived reality of contemporary experience in order to illuminate various practical questions. The immediate context of the study was commitment in religious life, since the project was inaugurated by a religious community, but it was felt that the reflections would have a wider applicability. An investigation such as this must necessarily be multi-disciplinary: the sociologist, the psychologist, the philosopher, and the theologian have all reflected on human experience from a particular vantage point. Many fine ar-ticles have been published in recent years on the phenomenon of change and of non-commitment; but 'all of them necessarily examine the issue from the author's individual perspective. Accordingly, in the fall of 1973, the Sisters of Mercy invited a number of participants to engage in a dialogue which would attempt to bridge the gaps between various disciplines and to widen the con-text of contemporary discussion. The dialogue which ensued was not intended to come up. with "answers" nor to bear fruit in a consensus which would be unanimously endorsed only because it represented the least common denominator of the discussion, but rather to enrich the collective understand-ing of the participants and to furnish a context for future reflection and; perhaps, decision-making. The participants in the study all entered enthusiastically into the dialogue and contributed a rich variety of intellectual viewpoints and life experiences. A brief introduction to the. members of the study group follows: Sidney Callahan: columnist in the National Catholic Reporter; author; lecturer. Thomas Clarke, S.J.: theologian; author; staff person at the Gonzaga Center for Spirituality, Monroe, New York. Norita Cooney; R.S.M.: assistant professor of sociology, College of St. Mary's, Omaha, Nebraska; Director of the Office for Pastoral Development, Archdiocese of Omaha. Margaret, Farley, R.S:M.: associate professor of ethics, Yale Divinity School. Jean Flannelly, S.C.: clinical psychologist; instructor at Cathedral College, Douglaston, New York; active i9 personnel servi6es for the Sisters of Charity. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M.: General Councilor of Sisters of Mercy; member of the Planning Committee for this study. John Haughey, S.J.: associate editor of ,,lmerica," adjunct professor of theology, Fordham University; author. ~ Theresa Kan¢, R.S.M.: Provincial Administrator ot: Sisters of Mercy, Province of New York; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Ellen Marie Keane, R.S.H.M.: .professor of philosophy at Marymount College, Tarrytown, New York. Mary Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M.t staff associate at St. Clotilde's parish in Chicago; formerly Executive Secretary of the Sister Formation Conference; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Miriam Sharpe, R.S.M.: Provincial Councilor of Sisters of Mercy, Province of Providence. Richard Westley: chairman of the Graduate Department of Philosophy, Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago. a4a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 In the initial phase of this study project, the participants all undertook to read a selection of articles pertinent to the topic, as a kind of basic orientation to the: discussion. Therefore, the bibliographical references included should be seen as integral to the report, rather than as merely an appendage. In several of these articles can be found more extended statements of some of the par-ticipants~. Furthermore, anyone who reads these references will be led to other sources which will further enlarge the parameters of his or her reflection. In the second phase of the study, which provides the basis for this article, the participants gathered at Mount Mercy, Dobbs Ferry, New York, for a weekend which was described as a "think tank/retreat" experience--an oppor-tunity for free-flowing, uninterrupted dialogue on the topic of "permanency in commitment." The sessions were taped, and this report is an: attempt to distill from the hundreds of pages of transcript a sampling of the opinions expressed: The comments chosen have been rearranged and/or paraphrased .in order to allow~ for, a greater economy of words, but the dialogue format has been preserved in order to convey the liveliness and immediacy of the exchange. The reader,must also be aware that not everyone agreed with every opinion ex, pressed, nor did every comment represent a carefully-reasoned-out position. Rather; some remarks were more in the nature of trial balloons, insights and fragments which were intended to stimulate further responses from the :com-panions in the discussion. Early in the dialogue the participants recognized that there is a degree of artificiality about isolating the element of permanency from commitment. It was,generally felt that.the nature of commitment itself was at issue, ,and that permanency merely designated one quality or aspect of it. Thus it was felt tha~t if the nature of commitment itself was explored, the place of "permanency" in our understanding of it would be clarified. Accordingly, much of what follows is a shared reflection on commitment itself, with the element of temporality as a recurring motif."Commitment," as this was generally understood and used by the group, referred to an interpersonal promise, rather than to a pledge to some ideal or abstract entity. It was used to refer to promises made to God (for example, through baptism orthe profeSsion of Vows in religious, life) or to another person (as in marriage or family or friendship). A strict dichotomy was not intended here: thus, promises made to God have their human expres-sion and commitment to persons has a God-ward dimension. The term "com-mitment," therefore, was used both for the fundamental option and for other interpersonal involvements. When the focus is more specific, the statement is qualified in some way to indicate the proper context in which it should be read_. The following pages, l~hen, are the record of a dialogue, arranged in such a way as to encourage the reader to enter into the flow of ideas and to challenge and qualify and enlarge upon them. As every discussion does, this one" flowed freely and occasionally rambled down some p,retty tangential paths. But in retrospe6t the group's reflections seem to fall under four headings: the challenge to commitment; commitment and human life; commitment and time; and the institutionalization of commitment. Commitment in a Changing World ! !!49 I. "The Challenge to Commitment~ Commitment is challenged today ~'rom many sides and o~ man)~ grounds. The following are a sampling of some ~f the objections which the participants observed. It should be noted that these alleged difficulties spring from both theoretical and existential ~considerat'ions. Some comments in this section deal with the waning of commitments once made, rather than with the reluctance to make them. ~ - E~,en our getting together to talk about commitment might be a sign that the concept is threadbare! ' -What I bear people saying today is that to promise to love someone forever . is to lock,-one's feelings into rigidity or into duty, and thus to destroy them. They are willing to say something like, "I do love you, but it's irrelevant~to think about whether I'll love you tomorrow. In fact, ~I won't be able to love you as well now if you make me think about tomorrow. What moves me to say I love you today may not move me tomorrow." -That's right. Sartre is known as the philosopher of commitment, and his whole point is not that we shouldn't be committed, but that we should be °~uthentic in our commitment. We shouldn't be hypocritical~ that is, we shouldn't say, "I love you and I'll, love you forever," and then when we stop loving, continueoto pretend that we do. The thing to do is to say, "1 love you now, and I'll be faithful to that now and take each day as it comes.:' -It seems to me, though, that there are a lot of perversions in the name of authenticity and honesty! In any kind of relationship you're going to have to go through some very dry, dead times., there can be just total periods of deadness in every living°~relationship. ~ -What I think is interesting, then, is how long do you let something be? .How long can you hope that the deadness is going to revive? That's the key thing. Even though.spring follows winter, if you had a winter that went on for twen-ty years, I'd begin to wonder. The point is, how much suffering and how much deadness can there be in a living relationship? -Or,.what if the deadness turns into something really destructive? We're all familiar, too, with the joylessness of some "committed" peoplewthe teeth-gritted, fist-clenched determination to "stick it out!" -We need creative ways to deal with genuine ~nguish. creative ways to live ~ the winter of~ commitment as well as the summer. It is not necessarily hypocritical to~ sustain a commitment through anguish it may be an authentic experience. -Anguish in commitment is one thing, but what about sheer indifference? The absence of any feeling at all is much harder to interpret than suffering. At .least the latter is a sign of some kind of lifel- -I wonder if some of the situations you describe, of the feeling of deadness or the absence of a relationship that had been vital, may not be experiences of , what the mystics used to call the "dark night.'°' Underneath the present pain . is.the conviction that it's still all right, and that somehow or other I'm being 850 / Review for Religious, I"olume 34, 1975/6 weaned off of one level of relationship, and after I go through this thing, this inertia or deadness, it's going to come out all right, But part of the commit-ment is to kind of "hang in there" when the fruits of the love are no longer tangiblemprecisely out of love--and out of the realization that the relationship is going to be deeper at the end. But 9ne of the cultural obstruc-tions we face is that we want to live in a constant positive feeling, a kind of constant ecstacy, a resurrection experience without the crucifixion. But that is just not a realisti~ expectation, given the human condition. -Another reason that people are constantly disappointed is because of the way that they define love. If they define it in the context of growth, of somehow meeting each Other's needs for happiness, joy, and affection, then that's a very limited context. Because then, if their needs aren't fulfilled, they conclude that love is no longer there. And they go on to redefine the relationship: they say, "I was infatuated with that person," even though they had said previously that they loved him. And then they start hunting for another relationship that will fulfill their needs, so that somehow love is not defined in the context of "forever with one person," but in the context of moving from one to another to another and growing as they .move. -That's an illustration of the concept of "Protean man, popularized by Robert Lifton. In this theory, modern man is like the mythical god Proteus, ,, who constantly changed shapes in order to conceal his identity. In its modern application it means that man constantly changes from one commitment to another without any continuity: every relationship is necessarily short-lived and without effect on what followsl If that is an accurate description of man, the human person, then any discussion of permanency in commitment is irrelevant. The only thing Protean man is permanently committed to is non-commitment! -Such a person is a perpetual wanderer. Kierkegaard uses the symbol of a butterfly moving from one experience to another, never investing itself-~-just kind of tasting and moving on. -The Protean-man image does give a picture, though; of many people who ex-perience themselves as. fragmented, without a sufficiently.clear self-identity to make an enduring and deeply-felt commitment. To talk about commit-ment to people who are devoid of self-confidence or of a firm self-concept is to raise an issue which isn't even a real option for them. -There is a diversity in contemporary experience, though, and I wonder if people don't resist making commitments for very different reasons--but reasons which come together in ways that may be interesting, especially for psychologists. I would identify two challenges to commitment, that from idealism and that from despair. The first is the situation of those who enter-tain a larger hope for humanity than human commitments seem to provide. , They are saying that only commitment i~ holding them back from a grander human adventure; it's reducing their f~eedom. 'But on the other hand, and perhaps even hidden in the first position somehow, is the challenge to com-mitment from contemporary~despair, articulated perhaps in behaviorism. In Commitment in a Changing Worm / 851 this view all talk of commitment is naive: human persons are not really capable of that much. Or our aspirations are necessarily limited because of what we see in society and in the surrounding culture. -To add to what you've said, there is another kind of pseudo-idealism that is promulgated in all sorts of ways. For example, the daily "soap opera" presents a picture of romantic love in which the most important thing seems to be to respond to each new lover that comes along lest one limit one's fulfillment; It would be impossible not to be conditioned by a daily.diet of that sort of thing. It's really akin to the quest for personal fulfillment above all else that is presented in more sophisticated ways by many, forms of the media and popular entertainment. -To change the topic somewhat, the difficulty which some people experience with commitment in midlife may really be due to an over-commitment in youth. In the idealism of adolescehce some people seem to over-extend themselves and then have a kind of"energy crisis" later. But this is endemic to the human condition. When the slowdown occurs, you sort of re-negotiate your priorities and plan how you will use your remaining energies. -Yes, when people are leaving commitments, are they in fact withdrawing from over-commitments? Have they over-subscribed their selfhood in a com-mitment which is too tied-in with a cultural formulation? If they have over-invested their personhood in a fixed notion of what their commitment was supposed to be, according to .what their church taught them or their culture taught them or their parents taught them, then withdrawal from that com-mitment is no great loss. -The situation we~described earlier, of a lack of self-identity or self-worth, may also lead to over-commitment. In other words, if I find it all a shambles inside, I'll put on a religious habit or awedding ring and at least I'll know a little bit of who I am. Then I'll be discernible as Sister or Mrs. or Father. II. Commitment and Human Life Havihg dwelt at length on the difficulty of making commitments and of preserving their vitality, the discussion moved to a description of commitment itself and of the role it plays or can play in human life and development. This portion of the dialogue presupposed some basic assumptions about human nature and human capacities, assumptions which were merely hinted at without being explored. -I wonder if the whole question of whether or not commitment is possible, or wise, isn't a meaningless question.After all, people make commitments, and they want to make them. It may be a problem to know what to do about them when they are made, but in fact people do make them all the time. Even those who refuse in principle to make any commitments make a kind of commitment to non-commitment. -I doubt that it's as simple as that. There are persons who are in some sense non-committed. If I were to try to characterize such a person I think I would Review for Religious, l,'olume 34, 1975/6 say that he or she goes through the same stages that a committed person goes through, only the non-committed person goes through these stages with a series of people. The committed person.goes through these stages with one person. We could, of course, say that the non-committed person goes through a series of commitments, but that nonetheless he or she is not a "committed person." -You mean that in the stages of, say, "highs and lows" or~"light and darkness" the uncommitted person attempts to re-experience the highs with another .person? -Yes, something like that. This is what I would want to say is a picture of a non-committed person. -:But you draw your picture assuming that it is better to be committed than non-committed in this way, Isn't that precisely the question we're asking? What is wrong with moving from one commitment to another? Isn't it possi-ble that we are .even called from one commitment to another? Isn't holding on to only one commitment stifling or narrowing or--especially if the one commitment proves destructive--isn't it a mistake to hold to it simply for the sake of holding to it? -I thi'nk we're going to go a~'ound in circles on that question unless we try to see what there is about our experience of human life that makes us want to make a commitment, that makes us even need to make commitments, and that makes us think that there is something good about living a commitment out to the end. For example, doesn't it have something to do with our ex-perience of being fragmented, of wanting to love with our whole heart and mind and strength and knowing that we are not yet whole? People say today that commitment 'makes love into a duty, and thereby undermines it. I don't think that that is so~ There are loves that awaken in us, that makeus yearn to be fait~hful forever. We have an inkling that it won't just "happen" that we will be'faithful, it won't just "turn out" that we will be faithful without our making some choices about that. That's why we make promises to love. We want to give our word to the one we love. We want to gather up our whole life, our future, and place it all in affirmation 0fwhat we love. It's a question of whether our freedom is powerful enough to stretch into the future. I cer-tainly can't wind it up like a clock and then let it go! I can't just choose to love forever and then it's all settled: "I will love forever." So I commit myself, I give my pledge, my word, my promise. "To commit" means "to send with," to place somewhere, to entrust, to dwell. I give or send my word, and in so doing I entrust myself in a way to the other. Now my word calls to me from within the other. I have given the one I love a kind of claim over my love.,It is no longer a question of my simply being faithful to or consistent with, my own resolution. It is a question of my being faithful to the other in whom I dwell by my word. When my inclinations to love falter, there is the ongoing call to me from the other. -Could I add that this all makes sense because I continue to want to love, even though I. recognize my own weakness? It is not a matter of love now being Commitment in a Changing World / 053 reduced only to duty. I want to love, though the feelings and emotions that made loving easy at one time have receded for now. Kierkegaard says something like, "Duty then comes as an old friend," helping me to do what it is I most deeply want to do though cannot do without the call to faithfulness which is grounded in my having given my word. -I wonder if we could say that commitment is necessary in human lif~ not in spite of the fact that we are weak and fragmented and sinful, but because of that. If we were in paradise, commitment would be unnecessary. I remember in some recent discussions on commitment being struck by the image of ourselves as mountain climbers. Commitment is like the process of getting in your stake up higher so that you can pull yourself up. Ideally perhaps we could just walk up the mountain, but in reality we are not the kind of people who can walk up mountains. -That's an interesting idea, to think of commitment in relation to our sin-fulness. On the one hand, I think the desire to be whole in relation to the one we love--whether God or a human person--is a sign of what is good in human persons, a sign of what is true about our being, Commitment, then, if it helps to hold us in fidelity, in truthful love, serves to make us whole and to continue in relation to another. On the other hand, there is something about our desire to be whole or to be satisfied, or even to be fully alive, that is a sign of the evil, the woundedness, in us. For our desires are insatiable, and they can pull us or press us to fidelity or to fickleness. Because we are never satisfied, we can be drawn offcourse on the mountain. Without the stake, to use your image, we can try this way and that up the slope, but gradually simply lose our grip, neither dwelling happily.~ in .one place nor climbing to another. -We don't~have to talk about that just in terms of sin, although that's clearly part of our experience. Wherever there is any person with a fallible will, with shakeable freedom, it makes sense for that person to give her word. As you said a minute ago, that's yielding to someone a claim, and we do that in situations where we think we might need to be claimed, The whole point of giving one's word is to Strengthen the one who gives it, and to assure the one who receives it, and to have a way of integrating one's self and expressing one's self and one's love. When God gives His word to us, however, it's not because He has a shakeable will, but because we need assurance. It's very important for us to receive His word, to know the incredible truth that He yields to us a claim even on His love. -We know our own love as embattled, in a sense, and there are built into human life counterforces to love. We know our weakness, and we cannot guarantee our fidelity, but we want to try to build in supports against the tendency to infidelity which we recognize in ourselves. We go beyond where we are, perhaps, (like the mountain climber throwing his stake) and express and affirm what we want to be though we know we are not yet. Sometimes the fact that we give our word in the pres~ence of others also increases the chance that we will love against adversity. 864 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 -Yes, and the fear of death through commitment (since we may find that it sours or grows cold), is perhaps importantly counterbalanced by a recognition that there is another kind of death which non-commitment can entail. If there is a danger that passion (devotion, power of feeling) will die in the process of commitment, so al~o is there danger that without commitment passion will be wasted, diffused in a superficial search for an intimacy that cannot.always be had in commitment, but can never be had without it. -You make commitment sound so good that I worry about persons' wanting to make a commitment and sort of going around looking for something to commit themselves to. I agree with what you are saying, but it presupposes a kind of prior call to commitment. That is, we can't just decide we'regoing to commit ourselves and then pick something or someone to commit ourselves to. No, I think commitment at the level you are talking about makes sense only if we experience ourselves awakened in love for someone who seems worthy of our commitment, whose loveableness calls to our love and our freedom. -Yes, and as we said earlier, that is part of the problem of commitment now. Persons despair of their finding anything worthy of their commitment. Everything, in a way, depends on the revelation of persons to persons of their beauty and ioveableness. That's why it makes sense to me that everything, in a deeper way, depends on God's revelation of His beauty and loveableness. -And on His revelation that unconditional love and commitment and fidelity are possible because He loves us with a faithful and unconditional love. And perhaps on His revelation, too, that we are somehow enabled by His gift, His grace, to respond to Him and to one another with fidelity in unconditional love. -This is perhaps neither here nor the.re, but it just occurred to me that if we were todo a study of great committed people, we might find that at least one ingredient in their lives was an awareness of something beautiful, of someone beautiful. Maybe we would find that ingredient in tension with a kind of restlessness, too. There may be a combination of feeling very gifted es-pecially through love and of being haunted by a restlessness which has something to do with feeling capable of doing something because of being loved and because of loving. The participants recognized that a great deal more needs to be said about the nature of human persons, human love and commitment. Everyone wanted to underline the importance of some kind of call to commitment, of commit-ment as a response, but of commitment as a process, a way, rather than an achievement or an end. Concern was expressed to clarify commitment as not just a means to one's own wholeness, but as a means to be wholly for another. A need was expressed to address further the difficulties,in making a commit-ment and in keeping a commitment, and to address these in as concrete a way as possible. A caution was introduced because of the failure thus far to dis-tinguish different kinds and degrees of commitment. Distinctions were offered Commitment in a Changing World / 855 in terms of conditional and unconditional, temporary and permanent, relative and absolute, instrumental and core commitments. The task of personal dis-cernment as well as fidelity regarding priority of commitments was noted. At this point, however, the discussion shifted to more explicit questions of com-mitment and time, of commitment lived through a lifetime. III. Commitment and Time A recurring theme throughout the discussions was the experience of time in human commitments. Again and again participants struggled with both con-crete examples of change in commitment and love, and with theoretical inter-pretations of human time and duration. Even a theology of time seemed to become important in considering issues of Christian commitment. -We spoke in the beginning of the problem of time and change within com-mitment. If I change (which I inevitably do), how can I pledge myself to re-main the same in my love for another? How can I even say I will continue to perform the deeds of love? What if new circumstances make that.iml~ossible? Or what if the one I love changes? Am I ever justified in changing my com-mitment, even in breaking it? I for one would like to focus on just these questions for awhile. -Yes, what about the current theory that commitments made by me when I was young are no longer binding when I become mature? I'm not the same person I was, and so I can no longer be held to what an earlier self pledged. -Is our understanding of the personal self at stake here? If so, I hold for some kind of continuity of the self, some kind of continuing self-identity. I think I am the same person I was as a childmeven though I am obviously also profoundly different. I am, therefore, responsible in the present for com-mitments I made in the past. -Always responsible, do you think? Or even if always responsible, always still obligated? -I think we need to be more concrete here. Surely it can be the case that even .though I am in some sense the same person throughout my lifetime, yet I can undergo sufficient change (or the situation can change drastically) so that, for example,~ I am unable to complete my commitment without clear destructiveness to others or to myself to an extent that outweighs whatever is to be gained by completing it. Or surely I can change so that my way of ex-pressing my committed love needs to be modified. It doesn't seem to me the most important question is whether or not a change in commitment is ever justified. It obviously can be justified if, for example, it becomes impossible to keep a commitment, or if a prior commitment conflicts with keeping this commitment, or if this commitment deepens into a commitment which fulfills it but is beyond ~. ,, -I agree with you, but you realize you are on what ethicists might call a slippery slope. While it is true that changes in commitment can be called for, we are also inclined to do a lot of rationalizing in that regard. I'm not 856 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 suggesting we should keep all commitments just because of fear of that. I'm only adding a note of caution. -We obviously can't delineate here exact descriptions of justified commitment-changes or unjustified commitment-changes. In fact, that might distort the whole question. It is important for us, though, to affirm that a person can in good faith discern a call to change.commitment. That change can be accounted for in terms of fidelity, not infidelity~ There is a kind of fundamental obligation which each person has to discern in con-science what is the way of fidelity. And that is never an easy task. On the other hand, it is important for us to affirm that every difficulty experienced in commitment (even terrible suffering at times) does not signify either a need for change or a justification of change. -Before we go further into the question of difficulties in keeping com-mitments, could we say something more about the beginnings of com-mitment? When, for example, do we know that we are capable of making profound commitments? Whether commitments remain binding, and whether they prove to be fruitful, depends to a great extent on our capacity for making them wisely and well in the first place. -I' don't think we always kno~ when a commitment actually begins. Its begin-ning doesn't always coincide with an explicit making of a promise or a vow. Sometimes we experience commitment as something that has taken place in us before we become aware of it at a conscious level. I may one day discover, for example (perhaps on a day when I see you in great need of my help), that indeed I have given you my heart in friendship; and I can now choose to ratify the commitment I find I have already made. -We certainly would want to note that commitment does not always begin with its external legal or ceremonial declaration; The latter is surely impor-tant, but we all know of commitments made long before their public celebra-tion and of commitments which are finally made long after their public form has been sealed. -If we look at the kind of maturity needed to make lifelong commitments, it is clear that certain healthy psychological levels of maturity are neededmand perhaps even faith levels of maturity. Yet I can't help resisting some of the present insistence on psychological, health as a basis for all commitment. While affirming it, I want to add that if the role of commitment is as we suggested earlier--namely, to help us to become whole in relation to another--then it cannot have full maturity or wholeness as its prerequisite. If I find commitment necessary for maturation (as does Eric Erikson, for example, in his presentation of the stages of human development), then it is clear that it cannot wait upon full maturity for its making. -That point must be made (with your same caution) in regard to Christian commitment as well. It probably bears pondering that Jesus declared, "I am not called to come to the healthy, but to those who are sick." And then there is Paul's reminder, "Who of you are well-born?" Though again I say this with the usual qualificati0.ns. Commitment in a Changing World / 857 -We might put ~the question this way: What kind of person makes a com-mitment? A strong person or a weak person? A person who is integrated or a person who is aware of fragmentation? I suspect our answer must grasp both alternatives. A person who makes a commitment wisely and well is one who is at home with himself or herself, who experiences' self-worth, etc. But perhaps also such a person experiences some uneasiness, some distress, some fragmentation. This relates to what we said before of the yearning of love to become whole, to deal with fragmentation. ,~ -We keep saying that commitment is a way of becoming whole, a way of growing in love. Clearly something more has to be seen in that regard, because we certainly have not in the past emphasized this aspect of commit-ment. The language of "states" of life, for example, was almost in opposi-tion to it. Now, it seems to me, we are trying to acknowledge that commit-ment (for example, in religious lifeor in marriage) does not mean that a love is once and for all sealed in union with the one loved. -Let me say something.here. I know people who think their first marriage is a 'trial run,' and then they enter a second and a third. Finally it dawns on them that it is marriage that is the problem; it's not the other person that's the problem. When I say marriage is the problem I don't mean here what some would mean--namely, that marriage undermines relationships, and'so forth. No, I mean that marriage is the way to relation, but if it isn't understood that way; it is no wonder that it doesn't work for many. If.t can put it this way, there is in marriage what many of you would understand as a kind of novitiate in selflessness. But that's only the beginning. -Yes, that's something of what I'm trying to say. Commitment is not the end of a story, but in a very real way the beginning (or at least an extremely im-portant point of impetus and direction along the way), We make com-mitments so that we may learn to love, grow in"love,,.There may be nothing more beautiful in all creation than a courageous love, but it is not born whole. The vows which have been characteristic of religious life or marriage, then, are ways of coming to love, means.for expanding one's mind and heart in order to grow into a great and wise love:. -But what assures that commitment will indeed lead that way? We simply must not pass over toolightly the very real problems that We saw earlier and that are being raised with sharpness and great credibility today. What if love finally is always unfaithful? What if the object of love finally always proves disappointing? What if commitment sours at least as often as it liberates? What if we who are created as always changing truly cannot bear the non-changing of commitment? -Wait a minute. Let me just say something about your last question. I think it is a pure and simple myth to say that our need for change can only be answered on a model of changing from one commitment to another (or remaining uncommitted, as I guess we described it before). In fact,.the ex-ample of this that we have had--Lifton's Protean mannis a perfect example of an experience of not changing. Let me explain what I mean. Protean man, 1~58 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 ~presumably, finds in each commitment he makes an inevitable ceiling--on his desires, his interest, his belief. Every time he engages himself in some project or in some love he comes to an end in an experience of inertia, dis-illusionment, lack of life. This proves intolerable--for it is indeed an ex-perience of the stopping of process and change in his life. To be free of this, he moves to yet another project or person. But notice that through this mov-ing from one thing to another he finally ends in cynicism, sadness, and a sense of the absurd. That hardly sounds like an overall experience of a living process! The truth is that within himself there is no process. Moving fran-tically from one thing to an6ther looks like life-process, but it never touches him inwardly; within himself he does not change. Nothing really is happen-ing inside. The possibility of something really new coming intoobeing, of real change in the heart of the self, may only occur in the process which commit-ment entails. Does that make any sense? -It may make more sense if you can say something more positive about what this process within commitment is. -Maybe we have to say something about the fabric of time which in a way forms the inner structure of commitment. In a way commitment," as everyone asserts, transcends time. It does have an element of the non-temporal-- or the eternal, if you will, or the non-changing (if that category is important to you).This is especially clear in a permanent commitment. -Isn't that what we mean when we say "forever?" We intend it as a way of transcending time rather than as a time statement~ We're saying, it seems to me, that "I will not let the 'conditions of time or the circumstances at the level of duration erode that which I now say about myself to you," -Yes, but let me quickly add that there is also in commitment, even and perhaps especially in permanent commitment, an element that is wholly tem-poral- that is, a reality that is stretched out and changing in time. Now this is to say that something is on the one hand. eternal about commitment, and something is on the other hand changing. Or better, something about the whole reality of the commitment radically changes. It might help to talk about it in terms of stepping into a relationship with the other. When I make a commitment to another person, I step into a new relationship with him or her. This relati6nship is qualified radically as "forever." I have given my word, and thus myself, in a way that is forever. Yet I, on my sideof the rela-tion, will change, and the one who rec(ives my word, on the other side of the relation, will also change through time. This means that the relation, too, will change: It does not, however, change into non-relation. It is qualified in new ways--for example, by a growth in intimacy. Certain aspects of the relation may emerge and others recede. One might almost draw an analogy between virtue in an individual person and virtue in a relationship. In both realities there is development, and we need a language to describe the growth of thee reality of relation as well as the growth of the reality of an individual person. Perhaps the virtue of a relationship is intimacy. -That makes a lot of sense. Your picture of commitment gets to the on- Commitment in a Changing World / 859 tological. I am now in relation to someone. I could never go back to the self that I was before the commitment except by saying that I now formally step out of the realm of being which has been created by the commitment. Even then I do not go back to that self, for I am forever in some way qualified by having made the commitment. It is my self that really changes, yet remains myself. ~ -Yes. Could I try to say it again? When I make a commitment a new reality begins--the reality of relation to another. Then it is this relation that remains, but moves through time, changing, hopefully growing. It is not a reality separate from myself, nor an appendage to myself. It is myself in relation. As it grows, so do I become new, again and again, yet more fully and wholly what ,I already, am. -Could we add that aspects of growth and change include dimensions of the total personality--imagination, memory, feeling? -Now we are in a position to look at the negatives in commitment. If it in-volves life-process, then the diminishments experienced within it must have the possibility of being taken up into that process. We surely experience, for example, our commitments being choked of their life, or distracted from their life, or overwhelmed in some way. W( know what it means to have barriers grow up in the commitment-relation. In one sense, we must learn a kind of creativity in the liying out of commitment. If it is a way, then we must learn what it means to go along that way. So we must learn creative ways to deal with what chokes us, what irritates us, what renders us helpless. Too little time and attention have been given to learning such things. Perhaps this is because we did not see clearly enough that commitment is a way that must be gone along. -There is something else that arises in the process of commitment, and which is experienced as negative. I've been thinking a long time about this because I've watched so many people go through it. I've experienced it myself in small ways, too, and I think there are clues to be gotten which will tell us how to deal with it. I'm not talking about the exlSerie.nce of being angered or frustrated, and so forth. The only way I can describe it is in terms of being "unhitched" from commitment. It's like driving along in a cart with a horse drawing it, and then the hors~ becomes loose, unhitched, and off it goes on its glorious way, leaving you sitt~ing there. It's like the world going on, or the community going on, and you are left simply sitting there. But in this in-stance it is your life that is somehow sepa.r_ated from you. Perhaps it could also be described as an experience of a.vacuum. Nothing is happening, nothing changes. The lid is on the future, so that it closes in on you. The past is somehow cut off from you and left behind only to.be stared at from a dis-tance. All sense of really living is gone. You become an observer of your life, only able to watch yourself doing what you.do, not able to enter into your own life as a participant. As soon as we back off and only watch ourselves living our lives, it is all over, .unless we discover how to enter into it again. In a sense what must be done is more than "renewing commitment." It is rather 860 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 like jumping out of the cart and running after the horse. All 1 can do is use these figures of speech to describe this experience. It is the experience I have '-heard countless persons describe as "something missing." There must be ways to redeem even such time, to make it fruitful in the life-process which is our commitment-relation. Once again, however, we have not yet done much to help one another to find such ways. -Is.all of this to say that it is not possible to truly keep a commitment (if it is a commitment to love) unless we learn the ways of nurturing its life, of freeing our own life and love within and through it? Commitment is a way to love and freedom, but the present task is to chart more clearly the yet shadowed way which it is. I suppose we have said from the beginning in our discussions together that the way is constituted somehow by both light and darkness. It is, as others have said, the darkness which raises the question of fidelity--fidelity which is not just gritting one's teeth and remaining con-stant, but which continues to believe in the light once seen andto watch and to wait and in some sense to serve that light even though we are not at times ourselves able to see it. Some discussion ensued as to how commitment may have the power to un-leash in us the springs of love and action. Attention was given to the role of forgiveness in the life-process of commitment. Finally, however, the .par-ticipants turned to a set of questions which had arisen from time to time throughout the sessions. These questions centered on communal dimensions of commitment, the implications of commitment for society at large, and the ex-istential, concrete framework for commitment. IV. The Institutionalization of Commitment When a commitment is made, it takes life in space and time, a given historical setting and era, within a framework provided by the free decision of the participants, community relationships, society and culture at large. Therefore, when we talk about a commitment to love God or another person, we have to deal with certain structures to which we commit ourselves as well. In this portion of their discussion the participants considered specific, issues regarding membership requirements for religious communities, structural changes and their implications for a community's understanding of its bwn commitment, and so forth. This led to a consideration of underlying questions of priority in commitments, implementation of commitments, and Church regulation of religious life and of marriage. A continuing focus was on the in-carnati0nal dimension of commitment. -A lot of what we,have said so.far applies most clearly to a commitment to love--to love God and to love another person or persons. But there is a whole area which"is just as problematic today as the fundamental commit-ment to love. That's the area of the structures we commit ourselves to--the structures which are, in a w.ay, part and parcel of our commitment to love because they are the concrete forms of living and acting that we commit Commitment in a Changing World ourselves to as an expression of love and as a means to love. Now, for exam-ple, I know many young religious today who have no problem with knowing themselves called to and responding in an unconditional commitment to God. But they have a lot of problems with the structures they find that com-mitment tied to in, for example, a given religious community. I'm just think-ing of some that I have lived with. They understand their permanent com- ~.mitment very differently from the way I understood it (and perhaps the way I understand it now). They see that the only absolute commitment they make is to God, and if they perceive that God calls them beyond their present religious community, then they must leave it (though I'm not saying that they're planning on doing that--only that it remains open as a possibility). -Well, in a sense there can be no denying the validity of that view. It is only God who can call us to absolute love and commitment. All other com-mitments are (or at least in a Christian view should be) relative to a commit-ment to God. The .problem is in discerning what "relative" means here. It means, of course, "related to." It means that the whole raison d'etre for them is their prior commitment to God. But it can also mean that the com-mitment'to God is in some way essentially expressed in these other com-mitments. It surely means, when we are talking about commitment to love other persons, that those commitments (at least to love, if not to live in cer-tain patterns of life expressive of that love) are forever--just as our commit-ment for God is forever. -There are many Sides to this question, and they are all in some sense perplex-ing. We can't on the one hand keep moving through life saying our commit-ment is to God and never really give ourselves to anyone else or never really yield our love for God to .concrete enduring patterns of life which express that love. On the other hand, our commitment to God cannot reify itself in a narroffly defined, immediate context which we refuse to see can and sometimes must be modified in order to be faithful to God. -The question is perplexing in the concrete, but at least what we have said thus far about priority of commitments, the relation of one commitment to another, etc., seems fairly clear to me in theory. -But concretely, we have to take account of the testimony of persons who are anguished now in their discernment of what is fidelity and what is infidelity. We mentioned those who perceive their call from God in a way that makes them necessarily chafe against certain patterns of life and activity which their community may still think are important. But there are also persons who feel that the religious community to Which they committed themselves has changed so much that they can no longer in conscience remain faithful within it. And then there is the problem of the dissonance not only between individual and community but between community and Church. We all know of the tension often felt now by communities within the Church who wish to see their fidelity to God in terms of fidelity to the Church, and yet who find a strange disparity at times between the two. If we didn't take any of these~ seriously--if tlie pattern of our commitments was not seen by us as a62 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 im, portantly interwoven--we could opt for whatever we wanted at any time. But we obviously, both in marriage and in religious life, are offered the task by the Spirit today of finding the ways of fidelity within a whole pattern of relationships, ~all of which are held in our relation to,God. -I want to say that this kind of tension, even the experience of being "regulated," can work both ways. If everybody got up every morning and defined marriage or religious life in their own way, there would be chaos. Or more importantly, there would be total isolation. We can neither ignore our tradition, our interrelationships, our call, ultimately, to communion with all persons, nor distort it by mindless submission to what was intended as a point of interpersonal discernment and response. -You know, it might help to look at this for a moment as if we were discern-ing for ourselves, within the Church, what God is calling us to. After all, there is a sense in which we can do what we want within the Church. Groups of persons can discern themselves called in many different ways, and as long as these ways are authentic ways of living the Christian life they are free to embrace them, and to embrace them communally. The issue of canonical recognition is not necessarily a central issue--certainly not for everyone in the Church. If I want to live in poverty or chastity or obedience for three years and three years only, I can do it, and the Church doesn't say aye or nay. If I want to live celibacy but not poverty (in the usual sense), I can do it, and again the Church will neither command me nor forbid me. But it is ex-tremely important, it seems to me, to add that that does not rule out the possibility that some persons within the Church (myself included) will still want to gather up their whole future in a permanent commitment, and to make that commitment in terms of a life of poverty and celibacy and obedience within community. It is important that those who are called to that continue to find a way to celebrate it within the Church. Other forms of life may also need to be celebrated within the Church, but to be open to new ways need not (in fact, surely should not) mean to close off present ways. -Yes, I can affirm that and add that, within this context, there still remain practical decisions for each community of persons such as you describe. For example, the ever recurring questions of whether a community should have associate members or temporary members or married members are questions that simply involve practical decisions (based on discernment in prayer, of course) for a community. -You mean that a community, for example, must discern for itself in terms of its understanding of its call from God and the individual ways in which its members are called to participate in that communal call--must discern whether it is to have an associate membership or a third order or some other departure from present practice? -Yes, why not? There is plenty of precedent for that kind of thing, and room for many variations on a theme. Different cultural contexts, different com-munal ministries, and many other factors will all make a difference in a corn, munity's discernment of such things. There is no one law written in heaven Commitment in a Changing Worm / 863 about them to which all must conform. But it is important that a community take seriously a truly communal discernment and decision in this regard. Or even if a community postpones decisions on some of these kinds of questions, it is important for it to know why it postpones them. -If we agree that structures must follow on life experience, perhaps this is the time in history to reflect on the experience we now have of members who would prefer a status other than that conferred by "final vows"; that is, they want to renew their vows every three years or so in an "ongoing com-mitment." If we would re-structure our communities to include a core group and a transient group, we would eliminate some of the necessity for dispen-sations with their negative connotations. Maybe this is the Spirit directing these young people and somehow we as a church have to respond to them. -I think I agree in principle, but somehow I'm wondering wherewe are as a "core group" right now. There is the real question of where we are right now: is there strength at the center, so that the core could truly enliven the whole structure? I mean I can only think of a half dozen people that I really think are the core. By the core group I do not mean people who are going to stay in religious life; I am talking about those who are alive enough to share life in some way. This is not a pessimistic view, it's just saying that right now we are in a phase where it may be necessary to get ourselves together first. On the other hand, maybe extending membership to.associates may be a way of getting ourselves together. -I worry, though, about 'the traditional problems of first and second class citizens. You have to have a tremendous inner peace and sense of who you are and what you are about to avoid those kinds of difficulties. -As a matter of fact, it has been a policy in our religious community since 1971 thatwe would permit women who wished to do so to associate themselves with us in a kind of informal membership. The thought was that if we permitted this to develop spontaneously :for a few years, we would ac-cumulate enough data to enable us to structure something which would be mutually supportive and realistic. However, after more than two years we did a survey and found out that the total number of such applicants was almost zero. So should we go out and recruit them? How do you strike a middle ground between permitting something to emerge and institutionaliz-ing it prematurely? -One way traditionally has b~en to find ways to share the religious com-munity's gifts, to share life with others through retreats, courses in 'spiriiuality, days of prayer, collaboration in ministry, etc. In this way sodalities and third orders have originated, informally at first, and then more formally. The spirit of the religious community and its characteristic spirituality is shared with a larger circle of people who may then desire a kind of membership or more formal association. -You mentioned the characteristic spirituality of a religious community . There is some talk today about the blurring of distinctions between various communities and between celibates and non-celibates, clerics and non- 064 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 clerics, so that conceivably institutional distinctions could be wiped out. On the one hand, the elimination or relativization of distinctions emphasizes the basic Unity of Christians; on the other hand, the individual groups emphasize the rich diversity of gifts and graces. I think this is a situation ~where we should proceed somewhat pragmatically, not rushing to reduceall religious communities to one group, but rather asking ourselves what is congruous .with the unity and diversity of the gospel. Religious communities are distinct in this, at least, that their members have freely joined them, rather than be-ing born into them, and this deliberate choice is a kind of witness. -Yes~, we have to ask ourselves, what do we experience ourselves being called to, individually and as a community? What we designate as the "essentials" and the "accidentals" of our commitment should be a reflection of that call. And the fact that religious life was institutionalized in the form of certain es-sentials and accidentals tells us that, at least in the past and apparently to some extent today, people feel themselves called in terms of certain specific graces; for example, they are called to a life of celibacy or to evangelical poverty or to,live in community in Christ's name. -Another aspect of the institutionalization of commitments and their public expression is its value to society itself. We sense that somehow there is some damage to the objective order when a commitment is betrayed. Somehow . the fabric of s~ociety, of the whole body--be it the body politic or the Body of Christ--is strengthened or weakened by our fidelity to, or our betrayal of, commitment. The climate of mutual trust is strengthened or weakened. -Many people find their ability to remain faithful enhanced or threatened by the presence or absence of community support. Ongoing commitment in-volves continuous re-election, re-commitment, re-selection, and all of those . with whom and to whom we have committed ourselves figure in this process. Maybe the parable of the seed falling on good ground and on rocky ground, and so forth, is helpful here. For example, it seems to me not impossible that oa community could be bad ground. It could be the cause of the death of someone's commitment within him; if the community demanded too much from him or distracted him in some way, it could choke the commitment. Or the community COuld be just a dry wasteland. ~On the positive side, the community could be very fertile .soil indeed. If I were to describe the kind of support that I would expect or appreciate on a day-to-day level, I wouldn't look for high points such as the discussion we've been having these days. What~ I would look for in the members of my com-munity would be a kind of resonance, a sense that they were in sympathy with what I was doing, and supported, the .efforts I was ~making. I want to share a, common understanding with the members of my community about such things as who we are as a community, and why we are together, even though it isn't necessary to articulate it very .often. -But besides furnishing one another that basic affirmation, there also has to be an openness to the new, a willingness to challenge one another to reach for greater heights of generosity. I guess religious have to call one another to Commitment in a Changing World faith, as well as calling other members of the Christian community. -Perhaps our concept of ministry has to be re-thought or re-integrated into the Christian synthesis in terms of a call to faith. We have described commit-ment in terms of "radicality" and the committed person in terms of "marginality" vis-a-vis certain cultural norms which are often uncritically accepteduthese terms suggest a kind of presence, a~ very challenging and a personal presence. It isn't so much a question of the apostolate being done, but of understanding and living fully the kind of lives we are called, to and sharing that. Flowing out of that will be specific kinds of service: the healing ministry, teaching, or whatever. -Yes, there is a correlation between the diversity of commitment and diversity in ministry. Sometimes the stance of love is to stand alone, to be in protest; sometimes the stance is to .be a mediator, or to be co-opted in some way. Even while we're allowing for individual insights and calls within Ch°ristian service, there's such a thing as the total stance of the community. Sotit still seems important to me that we have the reference points of some specifications of commitment. Whatever the stance is, whatever it is that we're about, however we try to blend our lives together, it has something to do with being poor, something to do with celibate fLiendship, something to do with abandoning ourselves in union with the obedience of Jesus Christ which .at least implies listening to something beyond ourselves. Further reflections of the participants concerned the relationship of com-mitment and ministry and the necessity of a genuine interiority in apostolic service. Throughout the discussion there was a sense that the multitude of commitments which an individual, makes must be integrated in their inward reality and their outward expression. Toward a Conclusion As with every good discussion, the participants ended with a touch of reluc-tance: there was a sense of incompleteness, a desire to explore further paths only noted in passing, to qualify assertions that were perhaps too confident or too hesitant, and to raise new questions which might expand, the, horizons of understanding. Hence the discussion eludes neat summarization and does not provide ready solutions or conclusions. Some.threads did recur again and again, however, and it may be helpful to recall them here. First of all, promising is a persistent phenomenon. Despite all of the dif-ficulties attendant on making a commitment today and of living it out faithfully in an ever-changing context, people are still making them. Hence, the need to commit oneself to another seems to spring from some deep human need and instinct, something deeper than a merely cultural basis would ex-plain. Moreover, the participants in this discussion shared among themselves a strong "commitment to commitment": while they were not unmindful of the risks and hazards of commitment, they all affirmed its possibility and value in human life. Furthermore, they affirmed that interpersonal commitment must a66 / Review for. Religious, !/olume 34, 1975/6 be understood as the beginning of a relationship, a relationship that can be ex-pected to unfold gradually, in response to new circumstances. Such an evolv-ing relationship may well include periods of darkness and dryness which must be integrated into the whole dynamism of growth. As commitments move through time, there are tensions inherent in their continued existence, tensions between continuity and change, fragmentation and unity, spontaneity and pattern, contract and gift. In the face of our~per-sonai experience of fragmentation and conflict, we experience simultaneously the inability and the need to pledge our word. The framework which society and community furnish for our commitments may be experienced at one time as supportive and at another as restrictive. We may feel drawn by an invitation or bound by a legal agreement. Furthermore, our ability to commit ourselves deeply and without reserve is intimately linked to our own sense of self-identity and self-worth. The context of commitment is also integral to its nature: our promises must be incarnated in space and time. While structures follow life, they can also be supportive of life. That is, commitments should only~be formalized or institutionalized if they are genuine and viable, but then the framework which community ~and society provide must support them. Although structures are relative, the process of changing them should be a thoughtful and prayerful one. There is no virtue in either changing structures or in leaving them un-changed; what is important is their congruity to gospel, to the needs of our day, and to our fallible human resources. Where do we go from here?'The really basic questions~in life have a way of reasserting themselves again and again under new guises, and requiring fresh attention. Perhaps this is because the only entirely satisfactory response to such life-questions is the personal one, made in the context of one,s own relationships of family, community, and society, Each of us must question the possibility and value of a lifetime commitment in his or her own iife~: can I live a fully human and a fully Christiah life without it? BIBLIOGRAPHY Beha, Marie, O.S.C. "Paradoxes of Commitment," Sisters Today, 46 (August-September, 1974), ¯pp. I-9. Burrell, David, C.S.C. "A Fresh Look at 'Perpetual Commitment,' "Sisters Today, 41 (April, 1970), pp. 457-461. ~ Clarke, Thomas E., S.J. "Jesuit Commitment--Fraternal Covenant?" Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1 (June, 1971),'pp. 70-102. ~. "The Crisis of Permanent Consecration," Sisters Today, 41 (August-September, 1969), pp. 1-15. __. New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today. New York: Paulist Press, 1973. Coville, Walter J. "The Psychological Development of Tentative Commitment to the Priesthood and the Religious'~ Life," Seminary Department Relevant Report. National Catholic Educational Association (June, 1972). Commitment in ,a Changing World / 867 Farley, Margaret A., R.S.M. A Study in the Ethics of Commitment within the Context of Theories of Human Love and Temporality. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation. Yale Univer-sity, 1973. Haughey, John C., S.J: "Another Perspective on Religious Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 111 (June, 1971), pp. 103-119: Keniston, Kenneth. The Uncommitted. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1960. Lifton, Robert Jay. "Protean Man." The Religious Situation 1969. Edited by Donald R. Cutler. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969. Marcel, Gabriel. Creative Fidelity. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 1964. __. Being and Having, New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1965. Murphyr David M., ed. Seminary Newsletter, Supplement No. 3. National Catholic Educational Association (November, 1973). Orsy, Ladislas M., S.J. "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today, 40 (February, 1969), pp. 347-349. Toffler, Alvin. Future Shock. New York: Random House, 1970. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp. "'Life of the Vows: Commitment to a Lasting Life Style." Envoy, V (September, 1968), pp. 125-131. Westley, Richard J. "Fidelity and the Self," Sisters Today, 45 (April, 1973), pp: 482-489. __. "On Permanent Commitment," Ame~'ica (May 24, 1969). __. "The Will to Promise," Humanitas, VIII (February, 1972), p. 9-20. (N.B.: This entire issue of Humanitas is devoted to articles on "Commitment and Human Development.") Space Fora Rose: Spiritual Ecology Sister Mary Seraphim, P.C.P.A. Sister Mary Seraphim is a Poor Clare of Perpetual Adoration and resides in the Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave., N.; Canton, OH 44714. "Time, then, is but the space for a rose to open to fullness." What is this element, time, which surrounds, sustains, measures and secures our existence? We cannot escape it under pain of death but we can never possess it securely. Money does not buy it nor can poverty prevent it. We love it but fume against its restraints. We are meant to transcend it but can only do so by fully integra.ting ourselves into it. Time is our most basic need if we are to be. We are born into time, :grow in its unfolding moments, die When our allotted span has been consumed. It is such a pervasive "given" that we take it for granted. God designed time as the cradle and matrix for His marvelously conceived creature: man. God does not need time to exist but He willed that humankind should need it. For man to exist as God dreamed him to be, he had to have time. There was a moment when he began to be--but he was not com-plete in that first moment. H.appily God does not expect him to be. For man is intended to delight God and His angels by coming to fullness in successive stages. Step by ~tep, we are to grow and develop. We could not do this without time. We could do it without clocks, perhaps, but not without the successive stages of change which time is. Kicking Against the Crib Somehow, somewhere, many of us have begun to harbor a rebellion against time, At least, I have, I began to see time as an uncontrollable tyrant which ruled me, drove me or caged me. I rebelled against it but, of course, quite uselessly. I could neither speed it up nor slow it down. Like a child in 868 Space for a Rose / a69 frustrated rage, I kicked against the very thing which should have been my security and source of hope. I failed to see time for what it really is: the shelter my Father has provided for me until I can~bear exposure to eternity. A sister-psychologist once gave a descriptive definition of time as that which allows things to happen bit by bit, Unless there existed the restraining and apportioning hand of time, everything would happen all at once.t I have enough difficulty trying to cope with troubles one by one. To have to face them all at one time? No thank you! Stop .Kicking and Look Gradually I began to wonder if it would be good to take a long and thoughtful look at this phenomenon known as time. Since it pervades my whole life as necessarily as the air I 'breathe, it seemed to merit some con-sideration. "I'll do it as soon as I have time," I decided. But come to think of it, time, like the poor, we always have with us! It was not that I had no time but that I was unwilling to use the time I had for that purpose. Revelation the first; I always have time. What am I doing with it? When I began to consider time,' I grew to be immensely grateful to my Father for this wondrous girl, Without it, I could not be me for I am a person who is always in the process of becoming. Like a rose~ I~need space to unfold; to happen. Fullness of being is not mine all at once or as asure possession. It is a gift Iam trying to grow into with each new second that is granted to me. Life is being continually re-given. And that, not from a distant heaven but by the Spirit of the Lord hovering, brooding over me. Indeed~ with each new breath I draw, this gift rises up from a wellspring inside me. It is the Spirit who breathes in me, who continues to hold me in being. And I take all this for granted ! What if all my being were given to me at once? Like the angels. Whatever I did I would do with my whole self--but only once. There would be no second doing, no future in which to try again, and, hopefully, do better: There would not be any hope! Instead my Father has allowed that I come to be bit by bit. I grow slow!y to maturity, making mistakes but learning as I go along.All the while I am sheltered, protected by the framework of time which keeps things~from closing in on me. Events happen at a pace and rhythm I am familiar with. Even when things seem to be coming at me too fast, I am called:to meet them only mo- ~ment by moment. It is when I .misuse my ability to mentally transcend time that I get into difficulties, Here and Only Now When I begin to picture future events (usually only possible ones) in the present mo.ment, I begin to get panicky. But if I am honest, I must admit that this not being truly reasonable. My Father may, or may not, have planned this imagined calamity as part of my future. But obviously He has not planned it as part of my present. He has grace for me to.handle the present events and that 870 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 is all He is asking of me. When the future becomes the present, it will bring with it all: its attendant graces. If I persist in projecting myself mentally into a non-existent future, I shall indeed have trouble--but not necessarily the kind that sanctifies. More likely, it will bethe type to foster neurosis! The same rule applies if I choose to live over a past that is no more. A child lives in wonder and contentment largely because he lives very much in the present. A small child has very little past to remember and an almost completely unknown future to contemplate. His horizons are limited to today--and, he is for the most part, happy. Do you recall those idyllic days of childhood when days were very long and a week a duration of unimaginable length? To wake in the morning was a thrilling moment (at least it was for me) with the gift of a whole day before me. What would happen that day I could hardly guess but I looked forward to finding out. As the years went by, the luster dimmed and I began to carry accumulated memories and worries into my new day. I began to darken the dawn by projecting storm clouds of anxiety onto the horizon. Joy and wonder went out of my life to a large degree. But Jesus said, "Unless you become as little children." Does that mean He wants us to live each new day as if it were the only one I have--as indeed it is? Yesterday is simply that--yesterday. Tomorrow--that never comes, as the wise man truly said. Here I am with today, just today. It will unfold minute by minute and along with it so shall I. The strong bulwark of time is here to insure that it shall not move faster or slower than I am designed for. There may be grave problems to be met along this unreeling road but they shall not fill every second--unless I allow them. There shall be many tiny islands of pleasure, comfort, joy to be met with too. I can limit the black times to their respective moments by simply letting them go when their time is past. About Pain . I read an account of an incident at Lourdes which has ever since remained an inspiration to me. A pilgrim--a priest, I believe--saw a little boy in one of the invalid stretchers. The child was in such a pitiful condition that the pilgrim was deeply moved and inquired gently how he could stand so much pain. The boy looked up with a bright smile and answered serenely, "It is not hard for I can stand today's pain. I don't have yesterday's anymore and tomorrow's is not here." For all those who have to cope with pain (and who of us does not?) these are words of ageless wisdom. Many have written of the problem of pain or more accurately of the mystery of pain. These theological and psychological studies are very helpful insofar as they provide us with a partial insight into the why and wherefore of suffering in our lives. We all find things easier to bear when they have meaning. But when it comes down to the actual bearing of pain day after day, nothing is more practical than the simple rule of "one day at a time." This may not sound very profound but it is effective wisdom. No matter what kind of pain we have, mental, physical or moral, we can cope with it most effec- Space for a Rose tively when we accept and live with it only moment by moment. For those peo-ple whose pain offers no proximate solution, the temptation to be overwhelmed by it is very real. Especially if it is a combination of physical and mental torments, as it usually is. We can lighten the burden for ourselves and others if we keep our eyes fixed on the God who doles out our life and breath one second at a time. In the same measure He supplies us with His grace, not only to bear but to embrace the pain in our lives. Unpolluted Time We should not pollute the gift of time with a compulsive attitude of rush and of works which absolutely must be done now. Time is the atmosphere of our souls. We must strive to keep it pure. This depends much more on our in-ner attitudes than on the circumstances around us. We don't always have con-trol over outside events but we can exercise control over our attitudes towards them. If you find yourself, as I often discover myself, unconsciously pushing time in order to get to the next event; the next assignment; the next problem, then something needs a bit of adjustment. We are missing the present moment toward which we pressed so eagerly yesterday. And in missing this moment we are missing the God who is waiting for us right now. We think we will find Him next time we are in church, or we will find Him tomorrow, and so we press on, hurry past Him and then wonder why He seems so absent from our lives. He is not absent; we are! Our lives are only a shell of half-lived moments and we are poor; poor and empty. This is not, however, the poverty of spirit which Jesus praised. If we realized how needy we are, we would receive the gift of each moment with grateful wonder and would not dare to abuse it by seeking another time or place. The phrase "spiritual ecology" comes to mind. We can create a beautiful environment for our spirit if we settle down and listen to the message of our beating heart. One beat at a time--not all of them at once (hopefully) and we are living healthily. We breathe in our needed amount of air .this minute and continue to live. Should not this tranquil rhythm permeate our spiritual living also? We have a luxurious amount of time--enough to last our whole lives! But we need to deepen our appreciation of it. Instead of bemoaning the limits it necessarily sets to our activiti,es, even our most spiritual ones, we should joyfully accept the room it makes for all of them. One half-hour is not a very long time for prayer but it can be most rich if each of its thirty complete minutes is cherished in their presence. Our God comes to us only in time. He Loves Time In Jesus' life, we see Him functioning with beautiful tranquillity within the framework of time. He appreciates it; He respects it. He waits patiently for the "hour" which His Father has appointed for Him. Jesus does not try to an-ticipate the time the Father has decreed. He awaits it with composure and uses to their full all the intervening hours and moments in His life. There is an ira- 872 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 portant task to be accomplished but Jesus sees that it is meant to be fulfilled by living and loving fully each successive, day. He moves in wide spaces of freedom; so gracious and spacious we think Him touched by eternity. But He found, eternity in the present moment. So can we. God does not do all He wants to do in us as soon as we ask. He has a definite "hour" in mind for us. He comes to meet us at special times in our lives which we cannot anticipate. We may only humbly await them. Sometimes His hour is one of special revelation of HimSelf--or of ourselves. It may be the hour of crushing trial or of joyous unexpected fulfillment. One hour surely awaits all of us, the most decisive one of our lives--our last. We shall scarcely be alive to these extraordinary hours of grace unless we have heard and heeded His word, "My time is at hand," in each ordinary hour of our lives. To develop a healthy spiritual e~ology is not complicated but it requires self-discipline. Our wandering, rushing mind and body must be slowed down, We must deliberately cloister our spirits in the gentle haven of right now. Then we shall walk in wonder and awe before a world most rich and beautiful. Time to See. and B~ If I rush into our enclosed garden determined to get a brisk walk in before 1 do more important things, I shall never see the garden. It shall remain "enclosed" also to me. But if I step out into the sunshine, reveling in the full five minutes my Father has given me, I shall walk with gratitude and wide-open eyes. I shall see the white butterflies with one black spot on each wing dance over the pink zinnias. I shall be able to laugh at the bumblebee who gets snapped at by the snapdragon it was so cautiously opening for nectar. And when these precious five minutes have elapsed I shall be refreshed and alive both physically and spiritually. My Father knows that a rose needs space to unfold, even a wild rose. How good of Him to provide me this room in His mansion of many dimensions, As I write these lines, the cicadas have momentarily stopped singing in the heat. Only the white butterflies are ecstatically circling each other among the blue petunias. It is very quiet., and very good in this moment. The New Law Versus The Gospel Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, O.P. Father Murphy-O'Connor is Professor of'New Testament at the Ecole Biblique de J~rusalem, P.O.B. 178, Jerusalem, Israel. By bringing the prescriptions regarding religious in the New Code of Canon Law to the attention of those who will have to li~e under them Father Kevin O'Rourke has rendered an immensely valuable service.~ Without his ad-mirably objective translations and summaries, the dialogue which should be an integral characteristic of the Christian community would be difficult, if not - impossible. His own evaluation rightly gives credit to the new spirit which animates the revision of this part of the Code, and his censure of the revisors' refusal to accept input from religious is well merited. However, his observation that "A new law can be well designed and constructed, but unless the people think it is 'their' law, it will not be observed as well as if they had some hand in its formulation''2 needs to be taken further. Dissatisfaction can be generated by failure to observe democratic procedures, but a more profound and lasting resentment is awakened when laws do not correspond to the self-understanding of the people they govern. Hence, the need to penetrate behind the statements of the New Code to the theology .of religious life that they embody, It is imperative that the revisors' assumptions regarding the nature of religious life be brought out into the open and subjected to searching debate, because once the New Code is promulgated it will inevitably tend to impose its vision of religious life. Despite the principle of subsidiarity which gives great latitude to particular institutes, it would be ~"The New Law for Religious: Principles, Content, Evaluation," Review for Religious 34 (1975) 23-49. =Art. cit., p. 49. 873 874 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 dangerously naive.to assume that the~e will not be pressures to make the con-stitutions of individual congregations conform to the "spirit" of the New Code. Should the revisors' vision of religious life be defective it will frustrate the work of renewal that has begun with so much pain and heart-searching. The advances that have been made will be gradually nullified, and the ground-work will have been laid for a repetition of the crisis that rocked religious con-gregations in the recent years. This danger, in my opinion, is not theoretical but very real. Despite their evident good intentions, the revisors assume an inadequate concept of religious life which has done untold damage in the past. In making this criticism I base myself on the truth that the religious life is but a particular manifestation of the Christian life. In consequence, it must faithfully reflect the pattern of Christian life laid down in the New Testament, and no theology of religious life can be considered adequate unless it successfully integrates 'all the insights of the New Testament. This point has been made explicitly by Vatican II: "Since the fundamental norm of the religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel, such is to be regarded by all communities as their supreme law" (Perfectae Caritatis, n. 2). When judged against this standard the revisors' understanding of religious life not only fails to reach the ideal proposed by the gospel but on occasion contradicts it. The Definition of Consecrated Life As given by Father O'Rourke, the first canon reads as follows: Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of life, by which the faithful, following Christ more closely, are dedicated totally to God loved above all, so that by a new and special title they are ordered to the honor of God, to the salvation of the world, and to the building up of the (~hurch, seek the perfection of charity in the service of the kingdom of God, and become clear signs in the Church foretelling heavenly glory. Which form of living in institutes of perfection, constituted under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and canonically erected by the competent authority of the Church the faithful freely accept, who through vows or other sacred bonds, profess to observe according to the particular law of these institutes the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and ~ obedience, and who are united to the mystery of the Church in a special way by charity, to which the counsels lead. The elements I have italicized in this definition call for comment. (a) "Following Christ more closely (they) are dedicated totally to God." Since this canon has the form of a definition, these phrases can only mean that by definition religious follow Christ more closely and are, by definition, totally dedicated. They cannot be interpreted as meaning that religious should follow Christ more closely and should be completely dedicated to God. The canon, therefore, states that religious are better Christians than other believers. A view that makes sense only in virtue of the assumption that the form of life chosen by religious is of itself superior to that of other Christians. The revisors, therefore, revert to the concept of religious life as a state of perfec-tion, a concept that was deliberately abandoned by Vatican II. Dedication to The New Law Versus the Gospel / 875 God manifested in the following of Christ is exclusively a question of charity, and has no intrinsic relationship to any particular pattern of life. To imitate Christ means to love as He did, and the degree of perfection reached in such imitation is conditioned only by the quality of love that is actually displayed. (b) "United to the mystery of the Church in a special manner by charity. '° Charity is specifically mentioned here, but the meaning of the phrase is anything but clear, because charity has a unifying effect only between persons. In the strict sense one cannot be united through love to an institution. If the revisors intended to speak of the bond of charity which should obtain between the members of the Church they could have expressed themselves much less ambiguously. It may well be, however, that the vagueness was deliberate, and that the phrase was intended to be suggestive rather than meaningful. In the light of the previous paragraph the purpose can only be to insinuate that religious occupy a special place in the Church. Yet the second canon insists that religious do not pertain to the hierarchical structure of the Church. Hence, while affirming that religious belong to the laity, the revisors make a distinction between two groups of laity and, incredibly, the basis of the distinc-tion is claimed to be charity. By definition, therefore, religious are more perfect in charity than other members of the Church. Since this is manifestly untrue in terms of actual loving, one can only conclude that the revisors operated on the assumption that religious are more perfect in virtue of their state. This, the most natural interpretation, ~is confirmed by the fact that the charity in question is that "to which the counsels lead." (c) "The evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience." Because all the other meaningful elements in the definition apply equally to all Christians, it is clear that the revisors' understanding of religious life is based on the concept of the "evangelical counsels" which, according to the third canon, "are founded in the teaching and example of Christ." They suppose that some Christians are called to a higher level of practice than others, and that the acceptance of this option is a matter of free choice. Were this assump-tion correct it would certainly constitute a secure basis for the distinction that the revisors make between two groups of laity, but the fact is that it is in flat contradiction with the teaching of the New Testament. There is a formal consensus among scholars of all confessions that the New Testament does not discriminate between different types of Christians. It makes no provision for an "elite" because the divine demand is addressed equally to all, and the fundamental condition for the reception of baptism is the acceptance of this demand in its totality: All are imperatively summoned to the perfection of charity, and all are guilty to the extent that they fail to manifest the love which animated Christ. The so-called "counsels" are not offered to some. They are binding upon all. More specifically, there is nothing in the teaching of Jesus that can be con-strued as an exhortation to renounce material good or marriage.The poor are blessed, not because they are poor, but because the messianic era has arrived in 876 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 which their poverty will be relieved. The central thrust of the incident involving the Rich Young Man concerns faith, and the exhortation to sell all that he possessed pertains to his specific psychological state. The same condition for following Jesus is not imposed on the fishermen disciples. The statement con-cerning those who make themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven is' directed towards married persons, and deals with celibacy only to the extent that it concerns the celibacy forced on a sincere married Christian by the obligation to remain open in love to a spouse that has abandoned the marriage? All this is but the current coin of serious exegesis, and it is incredi-ble( given the emphasis on Scripture in Vatican II).that the revisors did not de-mand competent advice before declaring that "the profession of the evangelical, counsels" entailed "the renunciation of certain values which are to be undoubtedly esteemed" .(canon 4), I intend to return to the revisors' understanding of the vows, but enough has been said at this point to show that the revisors are completely mistaken in their comprehehsion of the so-called "evangelical counsels." Since this is the key~element in the definition and the basis of their assumptions concerning the state of perfection, it is evident that the whole definition is erroneous. In itself this is sufficient to compromise all that is said subsequently. Community It will be noted that community plays virtually no role in the above defini-tion. The function of the institute of perfection to which a religious belongs is to specify the precise conditions of the vows of lboverty~ chastity, and obedience. It has nothing to do with growth in love, with the salvation of the world, or with the building up of the Church. These duties all belong to the members taken as individuals, as the plural verbs indicate. The justification for this limitation appearsin Part II of the New Code where it becomes evi-dent that the above definition is intended to apply not only to religioUs com-munities but also to hermits and to secular institutes which are not bound to the common life. There is no doubt that both hermits and members of secular institutes lead consecrated lives, but there is no justification for the watering down of religious life that the revisors' quest for a common denominator necessarily involves. The community dimension of religious life' is pushed into the background with the result that the theology of religious life is completely distorted. By deciding to make the status of the individual the basis of the New Code the revisors have consecrated an individualism which is in radical con-tradiction with the teaching and example of Christ. If the fundamental status of believers is that of members of the Body of Christ how can they be treated as if they were autonomous entities? The revisors, of course, will reply that they consider individuals not in themselves but as belonging to various institutes of perfection. This is simply untrue in the case of the hermit whose only relationship is with a superior. 3For detailed justificfition of these statements, cf. my study What is Religious Life?, Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1973. The New Law Versus the Gospel / 877 Much could be said about this point. The assumption of the revisors is that the hermit can cut him or herself off entirely from the world. It would be ex-tremely difficult, if not impossible, to find any justification for this mod+ of life in the New Testament, and historically no hermit who achieved sanctity was ever totally separated from the world. People came to them with their problems and to learn the secrets of prayer with the result that they were in fact involved with a community. The member of a secular institute belongs officially to an institute of perfection, but the New Code glosses over the ambiguity of the ,word '.'belonging." The members "belong" to the institute in the sense of a legal relationship, but such a relationship can be real or ptlrely formal. A real relationship necessarily involves presence, because it is constituted by the reciprocity in need and response. For sincere Christians the most imperative needs are those about them, because they recognize that the situation in which they find themselves is God-given. Providence, therefore, imposes limits on the universality of charity. Both St. Augustine (De Doct: Christ., I, ch. 28) and St. Thomas Aquinas (II-II, q. 26, a. 6) were conscious of the need to prevent charity evaporating. The precept of charity towards all men"could be taken so literally that no one would be lo~;ed properly. Hence, with the immense com-monsense that is the characteristic of saints, Augustine said, "All men are to be loved equally, but since you cannot be useful to all, it is strongly advised that you concentrate on those who fortuitously are closest to you by reason of time, place, or any other circumstance." It is impossible to love all men, unless charity is understood as a vague theoretical attitude of openness, i.e., when be-ing prepared to love is equated with actual loving. The reality of charity is ac-curately defined by Augustine in terms of utility which implies service. Those to whom service is to be rendered are those whom God has placed in .our path through the providential circumstances of time and place. Jesus commanded "Love your neighbor as yourselt" (Mt 22, 39 and parallels), and all the texts which imply the universality of love are to be interpreted as prohibitions of dis-crimination. Hence, the community to which a Christian really belongs is con-stituted by those who are the actual fabric of his or her daily existence. No legal affiliation can break this fundamental evangelical bond, or be substituted for it. The members of secular institutes working alone belong less to the institute khan to their apostolic environment. Their commitment to intensifying the Christianity of that environment may differ in degree from that of the average layperson, but it is essentially the same. One has only to read the Sermon on the Mount to realize the extent to which every believer is obligated to be the ferment of love, And that love in. order to be real demands the reciprocity of sharing. To the extent that the members of secular institutes depend on their apostolic environment for physical and affective sustenance, and in turn con-tribute on both these levels, the vows of poverty and chastity become real. But this ~haring is only an intensification of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy to which all Christifins are obliged. Therefore, the community to which ~178 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 the isolated member of a secular institute really belongs is the local parish or subdivision thereof. In the light of the gospel his or her relationshp to the in-stitute is no different than his or her relationship to the family. Both exercise a formative.influence which served as the foundation for lasting affective bonds, but the reality which manifests the call of God in the present moment is the apostolic environment. To give priority to the institute is to fall back into a merely formal relationship which is equivalent to the sterile legalism that Jesus and Paul condemned so severely. The situation is very different in the case of institutes of common life, because the community in which the members live is distinct from the apostolic environment in which they work. In other words, the community to which they are legally affiliated is the community to which they really belong. That community is the primary context in which the call of God is heard, because according to the order of charity, on which Augustine and Thomas in-sist, those with whom one lives have the first claim on one's love. The needs of those outside the community (i.e, the local community which is the only place that the institute becomes real) must take second place to the needs of the members. The situation is reversed in the case of a member of a secular in-stitute, because those who are legally affiliated to the institute are remote whereas those who constitute the apostolic environment are immediately pres-ent. ~. Legalism can obfuscate this difference, and lawyers may believe that it is not important, but for those who take the gospel seriously it is crucial, because the seed of the Word can take root only in the soil of reality. There is a real distinction between those who consecrate themselves to the service of God as members of a community and those who as individuals consecrate themselves to that same service within the potential community constituted by an apostolic environment. A common denominator can be sought in the idea of "consecration," as the revisors have in fact done, but the value of such a com-mon denominator is precisely what needs to be questioned. There are criteria more important than sterile intellectual neatness or the convenience of lawyers. To ignore reality for the sake of superficial classification is to in-troduce, ambiguities which can have disastrous consequences for the self-understanding of those who have to live under the New Code. This is manifest in the definition of consecrated life adopted by the revisors. It applies much more accurately to hermits and the members of secular institutes than it does to those who belong to institutes of common life. The inevitable consequence is to make community appear as something secondary. It functions as a legal point.,of reference rather than as the basic Christian reality designed to render a unique service both to the Church and to the world.4 4It should also be pointed out that the revisors' understanding of secular institutes depends entirely on the above-criticized concept of "a state of perfection." l f, according to Title I11 of Part il, the members of such institutes "lead their temporal life as the rest of the faithful" all that dis-tinguishes them from the rest of the laity is "the practice of the evangelical counsels." This conclu- The New Law Versus the Gospel / 879 The Difference between Institutes of Perfection The diminution of the importance of community appears even more clearly in Part II of the New Code. The first preliminary canon (n. 91) states, "These institutes follow Christ more closely either~"by prayer, by active works which benefit mankind, or by communicating with people in the world," and Father O'Rourke has correctly observed that the purpose of this canon is to found the distinction between various types of institutes on the type of apostolate carried on by each one? It is perfectly obvious that different institutes in fact do different things, but the way in i,which the revisors deal with this aspect leads to the conclusion that they considered such activities the raison d'~,tre of these institutes. Not only is this assumption in tension with the concept of a state of perfection adopted elsewhere, but it represents a complete misunderstanding of the nature of any Christian community. The revisors neglect the fact that there are two specifically different types of community. For convenience they can be termed the action-community and the being-cornmunity.6 An action-community is one whose raison d'etre is the performance of a series of related actions. It is brought into existence for that purpose. Thus, an army exists in order to execute a plan of defense or attack; a business company exists in order to produce and sell a product. The goal desired in each case is beyond the capacity of an individual, so a number band together to extend the power and scope of their activity. A being-community, on the other hand, is composed of those who come together in order to be or become something as individuals. The purpose of a fitness-club is that the members be fit and healthy. The importance of this distinction is that it permits us to see that the posi-tion of the individual varies considerably according to the type of community to which he. belongs. In the action-community'the individual is for the com-munity, and takes second place to the action which represents the common good of that community. In a business company the individual executive or worker is much less important than the product, and his or her value is judged exclusively in terms of the product. Any sort of damage to the product will result in dismissal. Built into the structure of an action-c6mmunity is the sion is confirmed by the history of the secular institute movement. Th~eir struggle to gain recogni-tion within the Church was based on the assumed relation between the vows and a state of perfec-tion. It was felt that a special value was attached to a lift th(ough profession of the vows, and that the acquisition Of this value conferred a staths that the rest of the laity did not possess. Social recognition of this status was desired as a reinforcement of the members' conviction that what they were doing was worthwhile, in the light ofthe gospel there can be no dispute as~to how this quest for status and recognition should be judged. Love is the only authentically Christian title to status. ~Art. cir., p. 42. ~For a more developed exposition of this distinction, see ch. 2 of the study mentioned in note 3 above. ~180 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/6 assumption that a number of ihdividuals will be losers. They can forfeit their lives in an army or be wiped out economically by taxes--and this is rightly taken for granted. In a being-community, however, the community is for the individual, because the raison d'etre of such a community is to provide the individual with stimulus and opportunity. This is perfectly evident in the example of a fitness club. Since its goal is that all the members interiorize the ideal of optimum fitness, it follows that such a club has no common-good distinct from the achievement of the individual. The success or failure of the club. is judged in function of the success or failure of the individual. To which category of community does the Christian community belong? In the light of the New Testament there can be no hesitation. It is a being-community, for its raison d'etre is to make it possible for its members to follow Christ, and thereby to prolong His mission incarnationally by demo.nstrating the double reconciliation (with God and.other human beings, cf. Eph 2, 14-16) that He came to accomplish. In order to be truly Christian, therefore, each community of believers must reflect this basic characteristic. Of its very nature it exists to provide the opportunity of authentic Christian ex-istence for all its members. But such existence is fundamentally a sharing; itis not something that each individual possesses absolutely. This is evident in the Johannine allegory of the vine and the branches (Jn 15, 1-11), but the most,for-mal affirmation comes from St. Paul, "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. for you are all one person in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3, 27-28; cf. Col 3, 10-11). Believers are different from non-Christians because they exist in union, whereas the existence of the latter is characterized by divisions. The mission of the Church to transform the world involves breaking down the barriers of hostility and suspicion that divide humanity. In order to ach!eve this it must first show that such divisive tendencies no longer exist within itself. It must show itself to the world as a profoundly reconciled com-munity. Only within the context of such reconciliation are t

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n

Transcript of an oral history interview with Linnea "Lin" (Peterson) Westberg conducted by Sarah Yahm at the interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire on February 5, 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Lin Westberg was one of the first women to join the Norwich University Corps of Cadets in 1974. Includes discussion of her experiences as a student at Norwich University and her later careers in the Air Force and as a school counselor. ; Linnea "Lin" Westberg (Peterson), NU 1978, Oral History Interview February 5, 2015 Interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire Interviewed by Sarah Yahm Transcribed by C.T. Haywood, NU '12 February 10, 2015 SY: Okay, so let me just start the official interview. I'm here with Linn Westberg. It's—it is February 5th 2015 and I'm at her house in Nashua, New Hampshire. And usually you start an oral history interview from the beginning. So where were you born? LW: I was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Grew up in Westford, Mass. SY: Excellent LW: Not too far from there. SY: And when you were growing up what did you want to be? LW: Hmm….Originally something in the medical field I think. You know, I didn't really have any great ideas about careers although my mother was pretty, I guess for her time, sort of ahead of the game. She was a lab director of a meteorology lab and she worked for the federal government which back then - so she was sort of the only mom that wasn't in the neighborhood when we were growing up, you know. But I, she managed it kind of like how we all do today. So I think when it was I went to Norwich that I sort of solidified my different goals and career plans. SY: And did you come from a military family? LW: No, that's interesting because I was sort of going through my things when you called a little bit and my dad was not in the military, but both brothers were. So my oldest brother served in the Army, First Lieutenant Jeff Peterson, and unfortunately he was tragically killed while he served at a young age. And he's buried at Arlington. We were just there. My brother—other brother, Greg Peterson, went to Norwich and so he also served. He was in the Army and he did a full career, both active and then as a reserve officer and he retired as lieutenant colonel and he was a helicopter pilot. So… SY: Were they both in Vietnam? LW: Um no, J—my oldest brother, was killed you know while he was on active duty, but not in Vietnam. And then my, the middle brother, 'cause they're quite a bit older than me, the middle brother, he, there's a law where sole surviving sons and daughters do not have to serve if, you know, so he was able to do - he didn't have to go to Vietnam. He was able to fly [clears throat] like he flew in Korea and did things like that, so. And he's a big supporter of Norwich. He went up there on a basketball scholarship and then his son went to Norwich and his wife's sister went to Norwich. So there's sort of this legacy [chuckles] and I think that's pretty common. SY: I think it is too. Do you remember going up and visiting him there? LW: Oh yeah. SY: Yeah what you think? LW: Very much. SY: What was your first impression? LW: So Greg is ten years older than me and I very much, you know, we used to take the old Route 12 up from here before they built all the 89 and everything, and so it was a big trek to go up there. And I distinctly remember going up there that first Parent Weekend with my parents and seeing him at Norwich and you the whole military thing and it really, I mean it really, it was just an amazing thing to see. You know, you'd [he'd] been an athlete in high school went up there on a basketball scholarship, full basketball scholarship, and you know I was kind of enamored with the school but never of thought of it as a place for me at the time. SY: Well, and that's funny 'cause when I interview, I mean I've mostly been interviewing men and I always ask them like, "did you play war as a kid? Did you play military? Did you play army?" And I should ask you that that too. LW: Yeah, I tended to do a lot of kind of boy th— I think I was a tomboy. I remember asking for cap guns and race cars and I never thought really, and I played with all the traditional girl toys too. But yeah I grew up in a neighborhood where there were a lot kids and we went out and we had acorn fights and we played outside for hours at a time. So very, you know sort of busy kind of kinda outdoorsy kinda upbringing. Camping, all those kinds of things. Hiking. SY: So when did you find out that Norwich was taking women? LW: I think it was my senior year. So I had applied to three or four colleges: Wellesley College, which is an all-girls school; Northeastern University that my oldest brother had gone to; and then University of Lowell, which was the local state school. And in, I really wasn't excited about any…I guess it just hadn't hit me and I said to my dad, "I'd like to go up and look at Norwich." And he's like, "No, that's another admissions fee. We're not going up there." And I said, so I kind of begged him and he said, "Alright." So we went up in the [laughs] in the middle of the winter and, 'cause I just remember walking around the campus in the snow. And it hit me right away that's where I was gonna go because I think it was surprisingly, and people are I think who don't know Norwich, it was extremely welcoming environment. So you would think like Wellesley being all-girls or some of these other schools, but I think it's 'cause it's small. So it was about 1500 students and, you know, the professors were friendly. We met the president, and we met the commandant of cadets. It just was, you know, I said, "This is it. This is where I want to go." That's how I ended up there. SY: And did you know you were gonna be in the Corps? LW: No. SY: Okay. LW: No, because women - here were women matriculating prior to me getting there from Vermont College, meaning they were coming over on a bus and taking classes. And then there was a small contingent of women enrolled in the ROTC program who I believe were just kinda coming over for ROTC classes but they weren't in the Corps. So they would wear the uniform one day a week, go to classes, and then back over to Vermont College to live. So sometime between my visit and the spring of my senior year, in that summer, some decisions must have been made. I don't know. Because I got a call over the summer from Colonel John Wadsworth asking me if I wanted to join the Corps of Cadets. I knew, I knew they were women, somehow I knew, because I wouldn't have wanted to do the bus thing from Vermont College. But he asked me if I wanted to join and I said, I mean it was a very quick decis--I said, "Sure, yeah, I'll do that." [chuckle] Honestly, I really had no idea what that meant. I just, I kind of though like everybody was doing it you know. And without like today's social media you weren't connecting with other people so the first I knew was that when I showed up there in August. SY: Did you get this letter? LW: Let me see, "Dear Ms." [chuckles] SY: Yeah, they left it blank, they didn't fill that in, I think it's hilarious. I think that was their prototype. I just found that in the archives yesterday LW: Oh my gosh. SY: in Loring Hart's papers. Pausing to read. SY: But you remember getting a phone call not a letter? LW: I got a phone call, I don't remember this letter actually. SY: Yeah. LW: It could have come, yeah, honestly I don't remember. But I don't know I'd love a copy at some point, that's interesting. SY: Here take it. LW: Oh thank you, SY: It's yours, I have a scan Linn laughs SW: and I just printed it out. I have some other things from the archives too if you want them you can take them. LW: Yeah, that's kind of fun to read, yeah. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, I've some newspaper articles too for you. I don't know if you have them, SY: Oh okay. LW: That you can—yeah, sort of the local Vermont papers were kind of interested in what was going on. SY: Oh excellent. LW: Yeah, so I'll share all that SY: Very cool. LW: before you go. SY: So okay, so you show up and you said, "Sure, I'll be in the Corps," right? So then did you have a moment where you were like "what did I get into?" LW: Yeah, definitely. Sort of the first issue was they hadn't told us that everybody showing up was gonna be wearing khaki pants and white shirts. So we showed up in like street clothes. So we already stood out, right, being female. And then to have like really bright clothes, I was like "oh my gosh," you know and then I thought okay this is really interesting. I think my aha moment was definitely in the auditorium or the Plumley Armory when President Hart said, "We'd like to welcome four young women into the freshmen class, Norwich University, you know. 150 years. It was a really nice speech, but we sort of all looked at each other and thought "oh my gosh." SY: Did he make you stand up? LW: I don't remember having to stand up. I just remember feeling really out there, really out there. And my dad was in the back of the room and I was a little worried about him because I was the youngest, my mom had passed away, and I was looking around saying, "oh my God, what's he gonna do?" you know. And he was chatting everybody up and I said, "Okay, he's gonna be fine," and then they marched us up the Hill and you know that's when it really starts. They put you through the whole indoctrination so… SY: And what was— LW: But that didn't seem that unusual because we were just, like they didn't separate us or anything, we were just all part of it. So I didn't feel – and you'd already started, you know, that's where you really begin to connect with the other freshmen. That's really when it starts because you realize you know, okay, the cadre, all these like really mean people and you know when they're not looking you're whispering to each other and you start to connect that way and you know, so. SY: So I somehow thought that women were separated, but you were all tangled, you were all together? LW: Yeah, we were and we weren't. So like that day we were, you know where we went the whole [group went]. But it became pretty apparent that they probably had tried, but hadn't completed like figuring out what we were gonna wear. Because they go, typically freshmen go and they issue your uniforms and so we were getting some uniforms but not all uniforms. SY: Did they cut your hair? LW: We did not have to cut our hair but we had to wear it up. So I came with like hair down to my, you know way down my back, but right away, you know, the Army regulation is above your collar. So we all had long hair and it all had to go up. I think we got white shirts so that improved the whole and whatever we had for pants [chuckles] 'cause the freshmen wore them until they got their uniforms. You wear the khakis. So that was a little bit better but probably one of the biggest challenges was they moved us into Gerard Hall which was the female civilian dorm. And we were put on the top floor upper right corner, upper left corner there, and all the freshmen other women were on the same floor down at the other end of the hall. And that was really weird because we were, you know, going through the whole Rook thing and they weren't. So we'd, you know - but in a way it was we did bond with them as well so it was this dual experience. I mean they were, you know, going out on Friday night and getting dressed up and going out on dates and we couldn't do any of that. So they housed us there for a while and actually our cadre, Nancy whom you've met, and Roberta and Diane Halliday, and there's—I can't think of Mary's last name. So they— SY: Moskos, was it Moskos? LW: That was Roberta Moskos. And Mary - she's in one of the articles - also lived on the floor with us which was also unusual 'cause typically just freshmen males would live to together and maybe a couple of the cadre. And then rest of the upperclassmen would be in the dorm but not on the floor where you're going through that training. So… SY: Yeah it sounds like from when I was talking with Nancy that the relationship between you and the other women who were your cadre was different. LW: Yeah, it was, it was. Yeah I think it was hard for them, yeah this is all in reflection later but I think it was hard for them because they hadn't had full benefit of being freshmen themselves and all that training. But I think they did a really good job trying to do what they were supposed to do. But it was a little more, there was a little more familiarity with them than we would have had certainly with the male cadre. And sometime, maybe November/December, they decided to move us from Gerard Hall over to Patterson Hall and put us in with male freshmen platoon. Got that name right. And so that turned out to be much better because we had, we had freshmen counterparts, males that we were working with every day but we also had sort of these upperclassmen that were supporting us, you know, in addition to like the women cadre. SY: And did you feel sup—'cause I know that the cadre you know that, I mean some of the members of the Corps were like "yay women," and some were not. So how did that play itself out for you? LW: I definitely felt that. For me it was more positive than negative. More support. I think I learned somehow early on that when you're a minority going into that kind of a situation that you somehow, you want to blend to some degree. So, you know, it's much easier to figure things out from within that organization than from trying to fight [chuckles]. Do you know what I mean? So I think I did that, I blended in and I got really active and busy at Norwich. And so then I made a lot of connections and that's how people judge you, based on those personal connections rather than being part of a group. Now people that didn't know us personally, maybe weren't in any classes with us, or that's where you might get a little bit of trouble or they were like from the '50s or something, that whole attitude about women. And there was definitely a few of them floating around. SY: What about professors. Did you feel like the professors welcomed you in their classrooms? LW: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. My roommate is actually the first woman engineer at Norwich. And so she was in all classes with all males and all those engineering professors. I think she would say they were great, you know, and her classmates were great. My professors were wonderful, very supportive, you know. It's a very stressful year trying to keep up with everything as a freshmen there. You know you have to re—you're just learning so much at once. It's like a double education. You're learning your academic stuff but you're also doing all that military stuff. It's like getting a master's degree in human relations 'cause you're learning all about how people interact, and the way people behave in groups. And it's really - when you're going through you don't recognize it, but later you realize "wow" 'cause you come out. And then when you get to the workforce you're like, "wow that was unbelievable what I learned there." SY: So now that you're a counselor, right? LW: Yeah,. SY: So I'm wondering if you can like take your counselor head and think back on that year. So what was, what sort of psychologically was going on during that Rook year? For you and for everyone? LW: I think, to some degree what went on with us was went on with everybody else. Like we had one girl leave, but there were other freshmen that left, you know, it just wasn't a good fit. Perhaps I think, I—you know oftentimes I look back and go would I do that again? Would I choose to do what I did because it has made everything else so much easier? On the other hand, I look at my kid's college educations and I say, "oh." My husband and I go, "are you kidding me?" They, what do they do with all the free time? They only have like five classes or four. We're thinking they're just you know, so I go "yeah I know, but th—it just," in a lot of ways like a lot more than I've witnessed other people had to do that went to a regular college. So… SY: And what about that sense, 'cause isn't the whole idea of the Rook year to sort of break down individuality and create that sense of a collective. Do you remember that process happening? LW: Very much, yeah. And they absolutely do do that. They take you back to the very the basics, you know… SY: Any anecdotes that you remember, any moments? LW: Oh yeah all that stuff in the halls [chuckles]. Getting dragged out in the middle of the night, having them scream at us. I don't know, you know, going—I think, I don't know, I think I - I remember looking around and looking at the fear on everybody's face because you really, like you think this is real what you're going through. And it's very similar to the military training so it's, it's really in many ways identical I think. But you're dealing with less trained people so and you're dealing with college students meaning age wise as far as being thrown into these leadership positions. So you know, I would say, I remember, I remember walking in the gutter, I remember being pulled out of the meat line a lot which was you know and you had to, they'd scream questions at you from the Norwich Rook Book. But I was a diligent student so I didn't struggle with that, you know reading my book and whatever. There was always somebody else that couldn't answer a question. [laughs] So that was, that was pretty easy. I think the physical stuff was the hardest for me and I found that throughout even when I went into the military because it's really a male model okay? And all they do is sort of cut it back a little bit for women, but it's really designed for men and I think they were trying to figure that out at Norwich. And so in the beginning like when we were running, and when they first put us in the guy platoon to run - and I ran a lot before I went to Norwich 'cause I knew you kind of had to be a little bit in shape - and it was still really hard. So you know the more I got in shape the easier it became, but I could never keep up with the men. So you always felt like a little bit sort of a like a day late and a dollar short. You know what I mean? SY: Did you also feel like you had the responsibility to prove that women could do it? LW: Yes, yeah. But I don't know, you know I think on the other hand I used to think about some of the guys that were having trouble and then thinking like, wow you know 'cause I mean they would they were a little softer on us if we couldn't do it. But they would scream at the guys if they couldn't do it. So that was, so I was very empathetic I think to anybody that struggled because it was just something that was harder for us. It really was. And then you know people were not slouches by any means it's just that it was a different level of fitness than you know I'd been used to certainly. So I think a big, kind of a cool moment for us, we did the Dog River whatever it's called thing, and all of us did really well on that. So we tended to do really well in things requiring stamina and distance and maybe not so well in speed or strength. Certainly I know like my upper body strength, I just didn't have it. Women didn't do push-ups back then, you know, and so, or pull ups or any of that kind of stuff. So I remember that being, that being very challenging and worrying about it like, "Oh my God what if I fall behind? What if I?" You know. That was always weighing on your mind. The other stuff like wearing the uniform, memorizing all of this intellectual pieces were not hard. SY: It was the physical part? LW: It was the physical part. Yeah. SY: Could you talk a little more about that idea of like feeling like you were standing in for a whole group or? LW: You mean like representing women? Yeah I think that's an interesting phenomena and it has made me very sensitive to minorities: religious minorities, racial minorities. Because people tended…I always felt responsible for like whatever I was doing whether it be academically (I know that's ridiculous, but) or how I presented myself is representing not just myself, but like all women. And that's a lot of pressure. So I think, and I think we all kind of felt that way. And I think we also kept an eye on each other like worrying about what they were, other people were doing because particularly we felt super responsible as more women came to Norwich. To make sure, to try to make sure that the path was laid, if you will, and that it was a little bit easier. Because you wanted people to do well, you know, and you didn't want to stand out. You didn't want to, you just wanted to be part of the group, honestly. SY: I'm wondering if you have a memory of like real triumph and a memory of "I want to quit." You know what I'm saying? I would imagine you have both of those. LW: I think that "I want to quit" was they, the whole thing getting recognized thing went on and on [chuckles]. So we did not get recognized till Valentine's Day timeframe. So that started in August and it's like, "Oh my gosh are we ever getting out of the gutter here," you know? It gets to the point where you kind of want to just, you know, be an upperclassmen I guess. And so I think that was like "uh" [sound of frustration] and also when you would see people drop out or struggle or have a hard time that's always very challenging, I think. I loved my classes. I was tired all the time though like you know the professors are trying to keep you awake, because you're up all night doing crazy ridiculous stuff - you know, ironing and doing your brass. I think it's a stamina test in a lot of ways. So I think that's kind of when I was like, "alright." And we did, not my year but subsequent years there were people that would always because it became an option to be a civilian at Norwich. If it wasn't fun people could like [making a noise of pulling the plug] go over to the civilian side, you know. We didn't entirely have that option. I mean I suppose I could have but I was like Norwich is the Corps, you know. Why wouldn't I do that once you're there and you realize that? And then I think probably that same thing I think, you know, graduating from there was a big deal [chuckles]. Graduating with all those guys. That was a pretty, you know, was proud of that. SY: Yeah do you remember how you felt that day? LW: Yeah I was like wow [chuckles], we did this, you know? Three of us made it through from that freshman class. I mean there were only four so that was really good statistics, I think, considering. It was really, every year was groundbreaking if you know what I mean, like women had never held positions of rank, women had never been platoon leaders, women had never commanded a company, women had never, you know, been in ROTC X year. So every year it was the first. So it was wasn't just that first day of Norwich it was all through, so getting through was. But by then, you know, there were women coming behind us so it didn't seem so different. SY: How, was it like to mentor those women coming after you? LW: Well I decided my first year. I, you know, I went back and I didn't and this is another thing that I really learned at Norwich, but coming back I didn't really get involved in sort of the cadre stuff too much. I mean you had to go and apply for these positions and I don't know it was a self-confidence thing but my roommate did, she did and I was like wow I can do that. So I think it was my junior year and I really went for it. I wanted to do like the job that was probably considered the most difficult, and being a platoon sergeant where you're really kind of in charge of a lot of people. And so that, that was, that was a really cool. That was, you know. And that was also the same year, now that was my senior year that - trying to remember. So my senior year I applied to be a company commander and was selected and I've got to tell you you're always sort of like "Am I good enough or they picking me because I'm a woman?" Do you know what I mean? I don't think I felt that way so much but I was always wondering if other people were thinking it [chuckles], "are they doing it because," you know? But I think I earned the respect of my peers so I—once I settled into that and was able to handle it than I felt okay about it, you know? SY: About being? LW: Yeah. SY: In a leadership position? LW: Yeah. SY: And what, I mean I think that something that Norwich does well is it trains people to be leaders to take on leadership roles. So what type of leader did you become, were there models that you were like, "ooh I want be a leader like that" and then other people who you were like, "I don't want to be a leader like that?" LW: Yeah, it's funny you mention that because, um. So when they, so I think I told you my husband's a Norwich grad. So he was actually a junior when I was a freshman and he was one person that I did watch. And it wasn't, it was even before we started dating or any of that, because he was a very sort of honest, you know, just sort of a wonderful supportive person to all of the women. And I thought, but yet he was really respected by everybody. And I think, I think that's the kind of – and he cared about people. So I think that's that perfect blend of a leader, really, somebody who people want to work for because they know that you care about them and you put your, you put them first. And he had actually volunteered to have us in his group. So [chuckles] you know, and so we got to work pretty closely with he and there was… SY: Uh oh hold on. LW: Oh sure, Recording pause and resumes SY: But [coughs] so yeah at the time. So I wonder how your husband felt about women and coming into the Corps? LW: I was asking him I said, "Do you have any memories of this stuff?" I did sort of try to find out like what happened before we came, "Did they train you guys?" He said, "Not much." He felt like it, they weren't really very ready. There was a lot of resistance talked about among the other cadets that he recalls, you know so. I think a lot of the guys that kind of were on our side were the more independent, you know, progressive, kind of thinking kind of people. SY: And what was the resistance about? LW: Women. Just Norwich you know. I think we used to joke "150 years of tradition unmarked by progress." Which really wasn't true because I think they were very progressive in their way. It's just that you sort of you know, I think things happen when things are ready to happen to some degree. I mean women had certainly served in the military, but no woman had gone through a military college prior to what we did. Two years later women were admitted to the service academies and actually we went, we went as a group to West Point and worked with those freshmen. SY: What was that like? LW: They, they were so happy to see us [chuckles]. They were. They had no idea what they gotten into. And I, you know there was a lot of back and forth, I remember because Norwich I think they still send people. There used to be different like, I don't know if history professors set it up, but there were different things you could do, you know, over while you were at Norwich. Or West Point kids, guys would come up to Norwich. And mostly what they experienced is what we experienced and I think we were just there to be supportive. And we talked to the, you know they were actually active Army officers in charge of them. It was very different. It's way more real military. And I came out of there thinking, "Wow you know, Norwich is really a learning lab." I mean they, we didn't have a lot of supervision by Regular Army officers, you know. People were trained, but so you learned as you went, I think, more than having everything spelled out for you. So… SY: Which has its pros and cons, I would imagine? LW: Yeah, well sometimes your—but you know, it's funny, because human behavior is human behavior, you know? But I think they were very watchful to make sure that nothing really negative has, we didn't really have any horrifically negative experiences I would say. At least none that I personally experienced or that would be any different than anyone at a college, you know. But, yeah I would say and it's probably still a problem, I mean how trained is somebody after one year in the Corps of Cadets? You know, so. But I think they're mindful of that and oversee it. I mean, I'm talking about the adults, the staff, the professional staff at the college. And it was helpful to us, they brought in a woman she—she was. she became the Dean of Women. So my first year they brought in a, her job was to kind of I think oversee and look out for us and help with any kind of issue that came up. SY: Oh her name, what was her name? LW: Nunez de Cela. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, and actually I have a nice letter from her. SY: Really? LW: Yeah, that I'll show you, SY: I'm wondering if you could read it. Is it long? LW: Where is that letter? [recorder turns off and then turns back on] SY: So let's talk about that letter. LW: Oh, you want me to read the letter? SY: Yeah, yeah I think you should 'cause there's something, it's very respectful and I like the way she talked to you, yeah. LW: Okay, so this is a letter dated February 13, 1975, wow. Dear Private Peterson: At the Recognition Dinner last night I wondered how many of the Rooks, cadre, and staff, realized how different your experiences as Rooks have been from those of the male cadets. Well different they have been no less valid, in many ways yours has been the greatest contribution made to Norwich this year. It is a comfort to follow an established pattern of behavior created by 156 years of tradition. It is a comfort to have leaders who are experienced in guiding new students through the mazes of those behavioral patterns. And finally it is comforting to know exactly where you're headed and what to expect when you arrived there. For you there has no such comfort. From the first you've have had to share the rather awesome responsibilities for the future, not only for your future but also for that of the women who will follow you and of the University as a whole. Your training period demanded maturity from the very first. More than any other Rooks this year you have had the courage and the determination to be first. To make Essayons a reality. As you might well guess the old lady is very proud of you. Best wishes for continued success. Sincerely, Nadine Nunez de Cela, Dean of Women, Assistant Commandant, Norwich University. SY: That's awesome, and she had no military background, did she? LW: I don't think so. SY: Huh, so and what happened to her? LW: [sighs] She was there for a few years. And I was telling you earlier that they decided it would be beneficial to bring in an active Army officer into the ROTC detachment, which was a pretty good move on their part. I will say they were, I think they were forward thinking. I really felt that way. Just, there were always lots of questions everything from well when do you wear this uniform? You know nobody was really familiar with women's uniforms [chuckles]. So I think having somebody there and who had some connections in the Army and who'd been through all of that and in her own way. I mean she was a major at the time, so that was, so I think she's sort of became, I guess you would call it more of the informal. I mean, she was really a regular ROTC instructor but I think her side job was to help us where we needed help and help us pave the path I guess. SY: Yeah [coughs] so did you plan on commissioning? LW: When I was at Norwich, yes. So once I got there I decided that I really liked it, the military lifestyle which I had really had not thought about. There were no role models for women honestly, out there in the world. I mean unless you had a military parent or something, you know. Even though my brothers served it still wasn't something women did in any quantity, and it certainly wasn't in the media. But I really liked the lifestyle once I got through that freshman year and I thought, "Okay, this would be kind of cool," you know, a career. And then, then I met my future husband and he was two years ahead of me and getting a commission in the Marine Corps. So I could not figure out how this was gonna work. So I left the Air Force ROTC program and started to pursue Marine officer commissioning. SY: So what was that like? LW: So it was like, okay I had to go take the officer qualifying test, did all of that which was not easy, because it was definitely a male geared test. [chuckles] It was all like angles and it was a very interesting test. It wasn't anything like the Air Force qualifying test. So that was hard, but I did it. And then so basically I graduated from Norwich and I got married like a week later, and then I left after my honeymoon for Marine Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Virginia. And when I landed there, I realized that this was a first, that no women had gone through Marine OCS with the men. So we were, and prior to that actually I—my husband had connected me with some women and they made it sound like so great, "Oh they teach you how to wear makeup," and "oh you know." It sounded very fluffy. Well it wasn't [laughs]. When I got there it was terrible, oh my gosh it was. I mean they were really out to prove something. So there were fifty women that started with me in this platoon. And imagine I'd already been through Norwich so this was, like the guy was yelling at my ear, but I was like you know that didn't bother me, none of that. The physical stuff was crazy and so each day somebody was getting hurt. So by the third week, like I want to say a third of the women were gone. And so everyday you'd wake up and go it was like okay whose gonna, you know fall off the obstacle course or so. I ended up dislocating my knee which was a minor injury compared to other people. Rehabilitated there and they wanted to cycle me back through and I said, "You know I just don't think I'm cut out. You know I'm not cut out for this." So that was, you know, and then I think I told you a little bit about my story. I later ran into my classmate and decided, you know, I still wanted to serve so went to officer training for the Air Force and I did get commissioned there in June of '80. SY: And it seems like you were like this is crazy I want out. It doesn't seem like you were angsty about it, it doesn't seem like you were like or were you? LW: That I was what? SY: Like you were self-hating about not making through the Marine Corps training? LW: No, I mean, that day I fell off the um, you know, got injured. I was definitely disappointed 'cause I, I thought it was gonna work as far as the two of us being able to be stationed together and you know I still wanted that military career. But I knew that, you know it's interesting because that experience, because there's been lot of conversation later about women serving in combat. And that experience showed me that you have to be a very unusual woman to serve in an infantry combat role. Now, serving in combat can mean a variety of things. You know Air Force pilots are in a plane. It's very different than humping like we were fifty pound packs and rifles and heavy boots and you know you're just smaller physically. The only female that was doing really well was my bunkmate. She was a black belt in karate before she got there. So she was already like super fit. And frankly everybody was like "Get me out. This is like too much." I think they've improved that a lot, you know, I think they learned a lot from that first class. But no I didn't, I was just like, just this isn't… SY: And they weren't rooting for you either? LW: I didn't feel that way. No. SY: Yeah, LW: No. SY: So, okay, so what was the Air Force training like? LW: [laughs] The Air Force is, well physically it's not as demanding. I mean you have to do things like I had to train to run a mile and a half in twelve minutes which is no joke. I had to get up every morning with a bunch of people. You know we would go out and do that and practice. It's a lot of, the Air Force is a huge organization and in a lot of ways I think of it like a business. You're learning all facets of that organization, so it's a lot of classwork actually. You're learning about the mission, you're learning discipline with the marching and the keeping your room clean and all of that. But after Norwich that was a breeze. I mean it was just like go through it, you know. And but there, there were a couple of turning points for me. I had a captain who was my squadron commander and I had applied - so your first six weeks you're sort of in the training mode. Your second six weeks you're in the leadership mode. And you apply for these different positions and I had said, "Oh maybe I'll be the woman liaison officer." So if you can see where women were thinking, okay? And he looked at me and he said, "No," he said, "I want you to apply to be the wing commander," which was the top job and I was like, "Oh you're kidding. I can't do that." He goes, "Yes you can." He said, "I've been watching you for six weeks. That's definitely what you should do." So it took somebody else to tell me that I could do that. And I applied and I got the second position. And so that was that was, that was very conf—that was a huge confidence builder. So, but Norwich had kind of laid the groundwork and then here I was in another situation and it was that person that kind of reached out to me. And so I learned that that's like, I like to do that for people. SY: Yeah, and so have you done that for people? LW: Yes, tried, to, where I see strengths you know you try to point it out. That's how we learn. We learn from other people and how they treat us, right? SY: Yeah it's true, LW: When you think about it yeah, so…. SY: So tell me about your career in the military, so where'd you go next? LW: So then they to another school, so I became. I went to a school Biloxi, Mississippi and I had gone into the Air Force from Guam because that's where my husband was stationed with the Marine Corps, and really wanted to go back there obviously. So this short, small window that opened when I went in was to put officers into flight squadrons to sort of deal with all the administrative details that needed to be dealt with. So that so I went to a school to learn how to be an ex— they called an executive officer and I showed up on the island of Guam for my first assignment at Andersen Air Force Base, walked in with my orders to do that. And they're like "Oh we already have a guy here that's doing it. We're gonna send you over to the maintenance squadron." So I spent a year and a half working in B-52 maintenance squadron which I loved. I loved being on flight line. That was fabulous you know. SY: So did you learn how to fix B-52s? [laughs] LW: No, but all the guys in the squadron that's they did. And women. So I was more, you know as an officer you oversee all of that but you're not turning the actual wrench yourself, you know. So but I just loved it. You're up early, you know, watching the planes take off, watching the guys load them. And making sure that they have everything they need to do their job basically. That's sort of. And while I was there I had an opportunity to work for a general officer, I became a general's, what they call an aide-de-camp. So I worked for him and that was a first, you know, and that was kind of an unusual job I think. So I traveled with him and his entourage, I guess you could call it, and got to do. And I went into the office and became a protocol officer. So we handled all the visiting dignitaries. I got to meet like George Bush, and congressmen would come through. Because this was a big airstrip in the middle of the ocean and they had to refuel so we entertained them all as they came through. But that was fun. SY: And were you living on base with your—? LW: Ah no, yeah we lived, my husband was stationed at the Marine Corps barracks. I was stationed at Andersen and we lived in the middle at the Naval Hospital housing. So we lived with all the Navy doctors and nurses, and dentists and… SY: And I would imagine you had sort of a weird position, like I wonder how you interacted with sort of the Army wives on base. LW: That's…. SY: Weird? LW: Yeah. Ah yes. Well it, not so much on the Air Force base but the mar— so I was part of the Marine Officers' wives club [laughs]. So I would go to work and do my Air Force thing but I loved all these women and so, you know, we had a great time. It was very international group of women, all nationalities that these Marines had met in their assignments all over the world. We just had a great time. Everybody is young, no kids. But we did all traditional wifely things you know. Became very, very, close-knit to that group, as well as all the Air Force people so it was sort of the best of both worlds. And we loved our medical neighbors. It was a fun two years. A lot of good traveling 'cause you're very close to everything in the Far East. So and then from there I went to, I wanted to just, my husband was getting out of the service so I just wanted to find a big city to be stationed in so he could start his career. So we ended up in Denver and he started a civilian career and I worked there in an Air Force training squadron and kind of worked my up to become a squadron commander there which was a great job, because I learned how to be in charge of large groups of people trying to accomplish a mission. That was fun. The location was fun, the people were fun, so I really enjoyed that. Once again had a, you know, some female experiences if you want to call it that. I came in, when I was first assigned there, there was a black first sergeant and he was tough. And I could tell he was like "uch" a woman, and he made some comment like, "Oh I don't think I really want to work for a woman," and I said, "What if I said to you, I don't want to work for black guy?" And he was really taken aback. I don't think, I don't know what he expected from me but we after that we hit it off perfectly [laughs]. It was just I came at him the way he came at me and he knew I wasn't going to fool around and he took care of me and watched my back. You always say that about a good NCO, they watch your back. Even planned my promotion ceremony so, you know, but it was. But I knew how to handle him because of Norwich, you know. I knew, like I don't know what another woman would have done in that situation coming in cold not having worked with all men for four years at Norwich. SY: So what is the skillset? Is it just being direct? Is it just being clear? Is it not being bullied, like what is it? LW: Yeah I think its self-confidence, the way you present yourself that people respect. Yes, and it's also not being bullied. Frankly [clears throat], it's really easy and it's not just for women, but it's really easy to get taken advantage of or get pushed around. It's recognizing when that's happening and asserting yourself and sticking up for yourself and that's nothing that I was born with, I learned all of that. I mean I tell my students now in class, you know I told them 'cause I teach a guidance class, that, you know, the way you present and carry yourself is really how you're gonna be treated. You're gonna be treated the way you demand to be treated, so don't let people do that to you. And that held true in business. Let's face it business is still majority of men and it held true in the military. It holds true everywhere I think, so you know. SY: Yeah, did you see other women [coughs]. Sorry, did you see other women when you were in the service who like didn't have that skillset? Did you see women being bullied or harassed or situations like that? LW: You know it's funny I definitely dealt with some difficult situations, but the few that I dealt with did not involve military women. It was some civilian women. But, you know, I came right to their aid if I thought I saw something going on that was inappropriate, and made sure it was handled and taken care of and made it clear that it wasn't gonna be happening. And I think that makes a big difference, you know. I think most women that are in the military going through the training gives them a pretty good skillset, you know. Unless they have come to the military with issues or something, but the training, meaning mental health problems or other things like that. I think for the most part you know the training is good and it teaches you know teaches you those things like how to, how to lead, how to take care of yourself, how to do what you need to do. SY: Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. I'm just gonna go look at my questions. LW: Sure. SY: While I'm doing that why don't you tell me about the Iranian students? LW: Yes, so the Iranian students came in I want to say around 1980 , so I would have been like a sophomore, junior. And they came in in a pretty large number. I mean, and they came in with you know a lot of money. It's really interesting to drop these - they were young, college age kids - in the middle of Vermont. And they really didn't, it was interesting, I think it was true culture shock for them to have, because what happened was my senior I had a, I was a company commander so I had a lot of the Iranian students in my company. And at first they were like "aah" you know they didn't want anything to do with women being in charge of anything. But they came around because they didn't have a choice. But then you know the whole overthrow then they disappeared. And I'm trying to remember when that happened. And they left all of their belongings. SY: Were you there when that happened? LW: Yeah. SY: It was '80 I think . LW: 1980, yeah and some of them defected. I mean some of them went to Canada, some just disappeared into Vermont and I think some went back. SY: Do you remember, I hear there was like a flea market where they were selling all their stuff, do you remember that day? LW: They didn't, a lot of it was left [chuckles]. I mean they left very expensive stuff in their rooms and just left, you know. I think the ones that were afraid and didn't want to go back they didn't care, they were just out of there. But yeah, I'm sure it was, you know, I'm sure. I didn't buy anything but I'm sure there, I'm sure that probably did happen. But yeah, I remember some kids driving Corvettes and you know they were there on full scholarship with big stipends and obviously were the crème de la crème you know. You didn't get out of the country and go to school in another country then if you weren't somebody, so. SY: And what about the Iranian women cadets? Did you know any of them? LW: I did not, that must have been after me or something because I don't remember any women being there, unless I'm just… SY: I think there were a couple, LW: Were there? SY: But maybe just a couple. LW: Yeah that I don't remember. SY: Yeah, yeah and I think they were also integrating their, the navy there. so yeah. LW: Oh okay. SY: Did you know Bizhan? LW: No. SY: That's interesting. He was, I think he was supposed to be class of '80 LW: Okay. SY: He now runs FacOps at Norwich. LW: Oh! SY: He happened to have, he had a different visa than the other cadets because he was like, "I don't think I want to be in the navy anymore," so he was technically out of the navy. LW: Oh. SY: He was able to stay, LW: When this all happened? SY: Right, when everybody else left, yes. LW: Okay. SY: He watched all his friends leave. And do you remember the news of that when you were on campus? LW: You know Norwich, there was never any news [laughs], It was, you were in a bubble, you know. So I think what we knew was what we witnessed and saw and people told us, and I don't remember reading about it, and we certainly didn't have televisions in our rooms [laughs] or anything or you know. We had WNUB but… SY: Right, but that's— LW: Pretty isolated. SY: Yeah, it's funny when I've been interviewing the Vietnam era folks they say the same thing. And it drove them crazy. LW: Laughs SY: They were like I'm - LW: What's going on? SY: going to go there and I don't know what's happening [coughs]. I guess I'm wondering how your Norwich education affects your life today. LW: Well it has affected my life ever since being, um, time management, huge, how to get a lot done in a short amount of time. I think knowing what's important meaning like I watch people get upset and stressed a lot at work about things that I don't think are that worth worrying about. Because I always go to that place like, 'cause over the years when you serve in them military you meet a lot of people that did serve in very unsavory conditions, or had family who had died, or you just heavy duty stuff and so I kind of look at the world from a different perspective and I think it started at Norwich. It helps me in my work every day because I think my perspective is just, you know, I think. One thing that's been interesting, I think my years in business were easy because of Norwich, because what I know about working with males which is different, it really is, behaviorally, the way they think. …But of course I met my wonderful husband. You know I always say that's why I went to Norwich [laughs]. SY: To get your M-r-s. [in a joking tone]. LW: Well no, I had no intention of really. You know there were women that dropped out and got married and I was like "I would never do that. Never." And, but no just the fact that I met him and we're married all these years later, it's just been a wonderful marriage and so I was lucky 'cause I look at it like when I said to my dad that day, "No," I begged him "let me go look at it." You know I did meet Jim there, so that's huge. SY: That's huge. LW: That affects my life everyday [chuckles]. SY: So, okay, so you were in the military for a while. LW: Yup. SY: And then when did you retire? LW: So I did eight years. So in 1988 I got out and I was stationed at Hanscom Air Force Base, that was my last assignment. And I had crossed trained into, like at the end when I was in Denver I said "I need to find a career that I can do on the outside." And my colonel let me go to Contracting Officer School which is a great program. I mean I went to a lot of different schools to become a contracting officer, and did that at Hanscom. So I did like major weapons systems acquisition which is very transferable to the outside. Got out mostly because I had had my first child. I still loved the work but the Air Force had said they'd wanted me to go to Air Command and Staff College at Maxwell Air Force Base, and it's a ten month school, and I just I couldn't leave my son for ten months and go down there. So I said, "Okay, now's the time I'm getting out." Stayed home with him but then was able to take those skills and I worked at a engineering company for quite a while, eight years I guess doing contract negotiation for them. So, you know and did the whole mother juggle thing [chuckles]. SY: Yup, and when did you retrain to be a counselor? LW: A counselor? So when my second child came along it got a little more challenging for me to balance everything the way I wanted to do it. So I stayed home with my daughter Caroline. I guess I worked for a couple of years and then was home with her. So when she got into late middle school I decided—then I was like okay I'm going to go back to work here. What do I really want to do now? Researched a bunch of things, decided to take a course and just see if I enjoyed it, and just fell in love with the field. I think if Norwich had had psychology I would have majored in that but they didn't have that major. And so went back and that was great because I was still home, but I was going to school, and then when she went to high school I was able to find a position as a school counselor. That's what I'm doing now. SY: And you love it. LW: I do. SY: Excellent! LW: Yeah, yeah. SY: One other question, LW: Yeah. SY: And then I don't know if I have any other real questions, you know again I've been reading these books and memoirs by women in the academies. And they talk about this push and pull between sort of trying to blend in and trying to sort of seem as masculine as possible and also wanting to be seen as feminine and as like a potential partner and how did you juggle that? LW: I never wanted to be masculine. Like I always knew I was, you know I never really, but it, but it's a struggle. You know so there's the physical traits in how you carry yourself, but there's also just the, kind of the way you think and the way you approach the world. There's masculine and feminine, right, ways to and I think I just tried to stay true to myself I think in who I was. You know but I mean, yeah, the uniforms were not attractive [chuckles] you know? And the civilian girls always looked so awesome! We were like "Oh my God where'd they ever find these shoes, these black tie shoes?" We would laugh about it/ You had to have a lot of like self-confidence, you really did, because c'mon, you know? SY: And when you went to the Regimental Balls were you allowed to wear dresses or did you have to wear your uniforms? LW: That's interesting 'cause I think it was my first year that I went we were allowed to wear dresses. And I had to borrow a dress 'cause I didn't, you know, from one of the civilian women. She had beautiful gowns and so we all got one from her I guess. But then I was looking through my yearbook and there's a picture of me and I think they changed the rules and we had to wear, and we weren't happy about that. But yeah you know, you're yeah the same but different, let's face it, right? You know I certainly didn't want to wear that Army uniform to the Junior Week or whatever it was, but we all did, you know? SY: Right, of course. LW: Yeah. And I, the pictures [chuckles] so here you go again. So I was on the like the court they picked a queen and I mean, I can't—I don't know if they still do all that. SY: Oh, right I meant to ask you about that. You were Homecoming Queen? LW: Homecoming Queen, yeah. But the picture's of me in the uniform so I'm like was I really picked or was that [laughs] but yeah so that I believe… SY: Who was Homecoming King? LW: Well that, that was different, the All-American Homecoming Queen thing that was, I'm, George Turner, do you know that name? So he was like I think he was head of public relations or something. His wife was the librarian for a number of years. Big sports enthusiasts. SY: I do know that name. I do know him, yes. LW: He wrote a nomination for that and so there were fifty college women. We all came together. It was a pretty cool experience actually and went to Florida and were in the Orange Bowl Parade and the whole. But that was, it was more, it wasn't like, I didn't have to do anything to get that let's put it that way. [laughs] I didn't win anything or achieve anything. I think it was, you know, hey take the opportunities though when you get them, right sometimes. SY: Right, yeah, exactly. So then there are just some questions like do you think about service? Did Norwich teach you to think about service? Do you think about this idea of the citizen soldier? If these are ideas you relate to, great. If they're not ideas you relate to that's fine [laughs]. LW: No they're ideas that I relate to. That's the first thing they talk to you about, and you don't know what that is. Today kids do. Then I think we did it, you know my parents had me in Girl Scouts, and going to church and all of those things, but you didn't conceptualize that that was being a good citizen. And the whole idea of a citizen soldier, which is really the foundation of Norwich, and absolutely carried that all the way through. That is part of being in the military. It's who you are and so raised our kids that way. We're both that way. I just think it's part of yeah, you know. And it becomes ingrained in you like that's how you believe and want to live your life. It's part of you know, it's part of what's important and in fact I think somewhere in the museum there's a beautiful plaque and it—I took a picture of it when I was up there. But that's what it was, you know, to be able to serve that's what it is. That's what service means being in the service. SY: And did you, I wonder if you feel like your job now is similar in terms of service, do you feel that way? LW: Oh yeah, I look at my job actually as a paid volunteer job. So even when I wasn't working, and that's how I actually had to convince them to take me in my interviews because I hadn't worked for a number of years and breaking back into the work force. But I said, I haven't been sitting at home, this is what I've done which was everything from I mean, involved in a lot of fundraising and different things. And so yes this is, this is something I would do even if they weren't paying me. So yeah, it's that kind of work and I'm fortunate to be able to do it you know. SY: Yeah, absolutely. LW: Yeah. SY: So any last thoughts? LW: No, I'm just, you know, every year when I go up I'm happy to see more women in the Corps of Cadets. And I'm happy to see, you know, that they've had a regimental commander. Like women to me appear very blended in. I always love watching them in the parade and I try to catch up with them when I'm there and just say, "How is, what's going on, what's it like, what's it like for you?" They're always shocked when I tell them [laughs] I'm in the first class of women, you know, and they have a lot of questions. They're curious, really curious about that. And I always look for the girls with the white name tags, 'cause I know they're freshmen, you know at least the Rooks. If I go up for like an Alumni Weekend just to check in they're like "really" 'cause I think it's in the Rook Book or something, I don't know. SY: I wonder if when we do this exhibit if we should have an event which is an opportunity for women in the Corps now to talk to previous women in the Corps. LW: Oh yeah, that would be great. SY: That would be great. I think, I think I'm gonna suggest this to my boss tomorrow, 'cause I think that would be fabulous 'cause I think there's probably a real hunger to talk about it and have a sense of how things have changed and how they're the same and… LW: Oh yeah, yeah, absolutely, there's a lot of people out there that you know I think Norwich is truly I mean my first job out of the military I got through a Norwich connection. It's just the way the college is and I think the more anyway you can connect. And I think even women going into business out of there or into education or into nursing or into engineering there's alum that have gone before them that are willing to, you know, to help them out so yeah that would be kind of fun. SY: Yeah that would be great. LW: Kind of fun, yeah, SY: That would be, that would be exciting I think. Okay cool, I'm gonna press stop but…

Part one of an interview with Anna Mazzaferro. Topics include: Anna's grandparents lived in Italy. Her father moved to the United States around 1910, settled in Fitchburg, and joined the military in 1917. How her parents met. The work her father did. Her father's death from a brain tumor in 1947. How life changed for her mother after her father died. The importance of family meals. The food Anna's family would prepared and can with produce from the garden. The chickens her father kept. Neighborhood blackouts during World War II. What life was like during World War II. The importance of education to Anna's parents. Anna went to college after her children were grown. Memories of Fitchburg from her childhood. The band she played in. Her father's bocce games on Sunday afternoons. How Anna learned to drive and how she got her first car. The trip she took to Italy in 1998. Her mother's relatives in the United States. What her mother was like. Her father built the Marconi Club Hall in Fitchburg. Social clubs and the community created by parishes. The values Anna grew up with and how she carries on traditions. The family newsletters she writes. ; 1 LINDA: I can never remember the date. ANNA: It's the middle of November already. LINDA: I know. It's amazing. So this is Linda [Rosenwan] with the Center for Italian Culture. It's Wednesday, November 14th, we're with Anna Mazzaferro at 575 West Street in Leominster. This is actually her second interview. The first interview unfortunately didn't come through. There was a corrupted smartcard. So good morning, Anna. ANNA: Good morning, Linda. LINDA: So, we're going to try not to reinvent the second interview and just make believe this is the first one. So if I ask you the same questions, don't wonder, don't wonder why obviously. ANNA: Okay. LINDA: So I believe that you'd like to start with your grandparents. Is that true? ANNA: My grandparents never came to America, they were in Italy. And I have most of the information about my grandparents from my cousin who was living in Rome. She tells me how my grandfather, Alphonso [Guglielmi] was a great mason and bricklayer and a builder of homes. She tells me he built a little palace in Rome. The family, my sisters and I visited this area of um Italy, which is Pina Santovani in Lemarca, the province of Lemarca. And we saw the homes that were built in 1902 and 1913 that the family used out there. The homes were still standing; they're stone homes and they have -- the keystone has the dates on it, so this is how we can remember the dates that the houses were built. Now, my father and his father worked on the 1902 home, but my father had left for America in 1910 or 1911, so he never saw the 1913 home that his father and his brothers built. And from what my cousin tells me, they traveled a great deal between Pina Santovani and Rome to do construction work. Also my, my grandfather did other work like making olive oil. 2 They would go to Rome, make olive oil, and bring it back to Pina Santovani to sell. They did a lot of trading at that time. This was 1900 up to 1910 that my father was involved with. After that it was my grandfather and my uncles. So my father came to America in 1910, 1911, and that date is the date we think he came because going back to my grandfather, he kept a journal. Every day he would say, "Today I went to such a place," "Today my son Dario did this," "Today we bought shoes for Oreste." And he kept this journal. In 1910 there were no more entries pertaining to my father, so they felt that this was when he left for America. LINDA: It's strange that that wasn't an entry. ANNA: I know. I know. I haven't seen that part of the journal, and maybe it's there and maybe pages have torn out; it's a very old one. But in 1918, the journals relating to my father appear again, and they say that they received money from America that my father had sent back to his family. So this was of course during the First World War, and my father… LINDA: Did your father join the service? ANNA: Yes, my father was here in 1910 or 1911. He became a United States citizen, and he entered the war in October of 1917. I have a copy of the newspaper article that it said the second 40 depart from Fort Devens. And the 40 I think refer to a 40 percent. I think each area had to send a certain percentage of the males to Devens, and Fitchburg sent their second 40 percent, and the picture was in the newspaper. My father of course is the most handsome man in that picture. But how we happened to find that newspaper, my husband Aldo was at a meeting at the City Hall in Fitchburg, and at that time in the waiting room the walls were being painted, and all the framed pictures from the wall were on the floor. And waiting for his turn my husband saw this newspaper that was framed on the floor. He picked it up and started reading it, and the date was October 8, 1917. And he's looking down the 3 list of about 40 or 50 names that were in that picture, and he comes across the name Oreste Guglielmi. So he knew that my father's picture was in that newspaper. And I did go up to the City Hall and ask for a copy of it so that I could make copies of that, and I have one now. So it's quite a nice… LINDA: A nice treasure, yeah. ANNA: A treasure, a great remembrance. LINDA: Now, getting back to your grandfather, how many children were there in the family? ANNA: Five children, I believe there were four boys -- there were six, two girls and four boys. Some of them died in infancy. LINDA: Four girls and… ANNA: Four boys and two girls. LINDA: Okay. Now, was your father the only one… ANNA: He was the oldest. He was the oldest boy in the family. LINDA: Now, did he ever have contact with his brothers and sisters again? ANNA: Yes, he would always write to them, but he never got back to see them. In 1917, 1918 when he was sent to France, from what my cousin tells me, he requested permission to go to Italy, and apparently it was not granted. He never went back to Italy. LINDA: And they never followed him? ANNA: Well, one of the journal entries from my grandfather's journal said that he prepared passports for himself, his wife, and the children. The whole family was to come to America. But shortly after that my grandfather became ill, then my grandmother became ill, and they never came. They both died. LINDA: Now, do you remember any stories that your father may have told you about Italy? ANNA: My father died in 1947, and we were quite young. We really didn't get into too many stories about Italy. But he said he had come because the streets of the United States were supposed to be paved in gold and there 4 wasn't much work other than their own construction, and they felt that he could do better if he came to Italy. And he was to come and see how it is and then fly back. I do have some of the letters that my father wrote to his parents when he got back from the war in the 1920s. When he was married, he would send money to them. In fact some of the entries in my grandfather's book show that in 1920 he would send over 10,000 lira to Italy. And at one point in April of 1920, he sent back to ask his parents to get a marriage certificate that he had married in the United States, and I guess they wanted it recorded in the church out there where he was born. So that's in my grandfather's journal. LINDA: Interesting. Now, how did your father meet your mother? ANNA: My father came and boarded on Third Street. The Lily family had a boarding house. Apparently there were other young men that had come from Italy, and they came from the area that the Lily family had come, and they knew that there was a boarding house here in Fitchburg, and they did board with them. Now, when my mother came, which was in 1919 -- I recall her saying that she landed in New York on Labor Day, September 1919. Her brother was here already, was married, and lived on Second Street in Fitchburg. And my mother came from New York to Fitchburg and lived with her brother and his family, and I'm sure there because Second Street and Third Street were only a block away, my father and mother met. And they were married in April of 1920. So my mother was here about six months, six or seven months before she married. LINDA: Seems unusual that your father was here about nine years, eight to nine years, although he spent a few years, I guess… ANNA: In the war, right. LINDA: Yes. So what kind of jobs did your father have?5 ANNA: He had construction work. He was an artist in building fireplaces, chimneys, brick homes, stucco work, plastering, and he was very much in demand. Many contractors would call and ask my father to work for them; and as far as I can remember he worked just about every single day, except Sundays, of course. But it was always beautiful work. And as children, during summer vacation if he worked in any area that was within walking distance we would carry his lunch to him at noontime, and we would sit with him and have a sandwich while he ate his lunch. They would have a half an hour for a break at noontime, and my mother would make sure that we were there by twelve o'clock so he got time to eat his lunch. He was a wonderful man; I have great memories of my father, and my mother, but especially my father. I seemed to be closer to him probably because I was the middle daughter. The oldest one, my sister, who's only a year and a half older than I am, but she helped my mother more. And my other two sisters were twins, and they were probably two or three years younger than I, and they were always considered younger. So I was the middle one, and I was the boy of the family more or less. LINDA: Now, did he ever teach you anything about laying brick? ANNA: No. No, I never did any of that work. LINDA: But do you suppose if you were a boy you would have? ANNA: I would have been, I definitely would have been. I know many young men that were taught under my father. He always had an apprentice with him, somebody who was learning the trade. In fact my brother-in-law, my sister's husband, learned the trade under my father. And there are other men that worked with my father and then they brought their sons in to learn the trade. There are many people that still remember my father and his work, and they speak to me about telling me well, the fireplace is still in my home that your father built, or the chimney is still standing that my father built. He died in 1947, so that's quite a few years ago. 6 In fact he died as a result of an accident on work. He and an apprentice were working on a roof this particular day, and they were carrying pails and bricks and other things up to the roof, up and down the ladder. Well, at this particular time my father was at the bottom of the ladder and the apprentice was climbing and dropped something, which hit my father in the back of the ear on his head. And shortly after that my father started experiencing dizziness, and he thought it was his eyes or his teeth, and everything checked out fine, but apparently it was a start of a tumor. So when this became obvious that he was having this dizziness was the month of July. And my father had one cousin, only one cousin that came from Italy; all the rest of the family stayed out there. So my father and this cousin were very close, it was David [Potheti] who lived in Quincy, which was at that time maybe an hour and a half or two-hour drive from Fitchburg to Quincy, and we would often visit. But this particular day in July, my father wanted to go to visit his cousin, and my sister Helen was preparing for a wedding in October, for her wedding, and my sister Lena was already married. So my father asked me to go with him to Quincy and he asked me to drive, which is very unusual, especially going out of town. He would never have asked me to drive, so I sort of thought he wasn't feeling well. But he and I went to Quincy, and on the way back he was telling his cousin that when he looks up into chimneys and all he gets dizzy, so he was going to have his eyes checked, thinking there was something wrong with his eyes that was causing the dizziness. And on the way back from Quincy he told me, he says, "Well, I'm going to go to the doctor and have my eyes checked because this dizziness is bothering me." 7 So that was the month of July, but he never complained. He did end up getting reading glasses, but everything seemed to check out okay. And apparently the test was not as thorough as they are today, because there was a tumor growing in the back of his head on the side behind his ear, and they didn't discover that until October. It was at my sister's wedding reception that my father collapsed. He had gone through the wedding ceremony, the dinner, the receiving line, and during the reception he just collapsed on the floor. And the next day when he saw the doctor, after a few days they admitted him to the hospital for tests, and they found that he had a tumor in his brain. And from October to the time he died in March, he never got out of bed. I recall him saying, I drove him to the hospital and he said, "You know," he says, "I never packed a suitcase for a vacation." He says, "But here I am packing it to go to the hospital." He said that when he got out of the hospital he and my mother were going to take a nice vacation. Then he went to the Burbank Hospital in Fitchburg, and from there to Mass General in Boston, back to Burbank, back home and from October to March he never got on his feet again. So he died the end of March, March 29, 1947. LINDA: So 1947 or '48? ANNA: '47, 1947. LINDA: Okay. How was life different for your mother, let's say, after that? ANNA: Well, she relied a lot more on me, because I was driving and my other sisters were not. My sister Lena was married, and my other two sisters were at home, the three of us were at home. Well, Helen had just got married in October, so she wasn't there. But my sister Mary and I were at home with my mother. So it was different, it certainly took a lot out of my mother because she aged, I think, 10 years in just a few months. LINDA: Now, how was she able to get money to live?8 ANNA: Well, we were working, and there was Social Security that my father had left for her. And we owned our home. This was the home that my father built when I was two years old, and we'd been living in that house all that time. He built the house in 1924, and it was a stucco house with shingles on top and a two-family house. LINDA: Now, why did he build a two-family house? ANNA: For economy, I think, you know, collect the rent, and it paid for your own. LINDA: He rented to other Italians? ANNA: We rented to one family that lived with us until their family got too big and left. That was the [Mendosi] family. They remained close friends all the time. Then we rented to a family, the Levanti family, and they stayed there for 60 years. LINDA: Sixty? ANNA: Fifty years, yeah they liked it so much that they stayed. They have a small family, so they were able to -- they had two boys, and there's four rooms upstairs, and they loved the house so they just stayed there. Downstairs we had four girls, so it started out to be a four-room house, but he added on a two-car garage and made two rooms above that garage, so he had an extension to the first floor where we lived. So, the six of us were very comfortable there. We felt very comfortable. You know, we weren't rich, but my father had a car and worked every day. We never felt any want for things that we could not have. There was always food on the table. It was different than it is nowadays I think, my mother would be at home, she'd have supper ready at five o'clock, you know, for my father when he came home. And the family always ate together. We would all be home from work at that time. So it was a nice family. LINDA: Do you think it's important to eat together? ANNA: I think so, I think it is. Although I could not do it when my children were growing up and my husband had very bad hours as far as getting home, he 9 never got home at five o'clock, you know. And my children, when they were in school, they were involved in sports, and one would have a four o'clock game, the other one would have five o'clock, the other one at six, you know, pick one up, drop the other one off and always had something to eat, but it was never sitting together. It was a rare occasion rather than the common thing to have supper all together. LINDA: So how did you keep your family together? ANNA: Well, it was a challenge, but we managed to do that. We stayed together, certainly. Just took care of all their sports, all their school activities, all their sports activities. There was always a time where we would come together Saturdays, Sundays we'd be together, holidays. LINDA: Did you keep those days sacred? One day? ANNA: Sundays. Sundays was always a church day; we'd go to church as a family all together. LINDA: And then share a meal after? ANNA: Yes, yes. LINDA: Was it a traditional Italian meal? ANNA: Usually, yes. It was always pasta and chicken on Sundays. Then as they got older, Aldo was at home at that time and after mass we would go for breakfast in some restaurant, and that would be a family affair. We did this quite often with my own family, of course not when I was a child because we didn't get into restaurants in those days, you know. But my family, I recall almost every Sunday going to breakfast at Howard Johnson's or someplace, you know, that they would pick. LINDA: So getting back to growing up in Fitchburg, you had told me what street that you had lived on and there were gardens, perhaps? ANNA: Yes, our house was the last house on the street. And beyond that, there were gardens and woods. And the neighbors would lease a lot of land from whoever owned the property, and they would grow their tomatoes and beans and potatoes, carrots, all the vegetables they could fit there, lettuce and all kinds of produce. And this would be their activity during 10 the summer. They would go up there and take care of their garden and collect whatever fruits there were. And the children early in the morning, all the children of the neighborhood would meet say at 6:30 in the morning and go pick blueberries up in the woods. We'd come back and we'd be making blueberry pancakes or muffins or something like that, you know, with our blueberries. And even freeze, not freeze them in those days, you had to can them, so we would do that. And many of the vegetables that were grown in the garden, tomatoes and all, would be canned. They would be bottled for the winter. It was not unusual to find a cellar that had all the provisions for the winter, the homemade tomato sauce and all that all packed. LINDA: Did you ever sell any of the produce? ANNA: Yes, if you had too many tomatoes you would call one of the markets and see if they could use some of the fresh fruit, some of the tomatoes, green peppers, green beans. If you had too much you would sell it to the stores; they would give you something for it, and they would sell it to other people. LINDA: So who was in charge of the garden? For example, who was responsible to weed it and plan for its harvest? ANNA: My mother and father did most of it. I would say they did all of it, yeah. We would probably help a little but not that much. I don't recall doing too much. We also had chickens, and I do recall that as my job to go get the eggs and to feed the chickens every day, and I did that until the rooster sniffed me one day and then I wouldn't go in there anymore. LINDA: Now, where were these chickens kept? ANNA: We had another garage that my father built, and we had that as a chicken coop. We made a chicken coop out of that garage, yeah. LINDA: Someone had told me that sometimes at these gardens someone would build a shack. ANNA: Yes.11 LINDA: And I forgot, there's an Italian term of course, and I can't remember what it was called, but evidently sometimes there was a woodstove in there so that people could cook their sauce. Did you have anything like that on your property? ANNA: No, we didn't. No, we had that garage that my father had built. That was not the two-car garage that he built for our cars with the bedrooms over; this was another garage separated from the property. There was also another two-car garage, and one of them we used as the chicken coop. LINDA: So it must have been abutting your land? ANNA: No, it was on our land but it was separated from the house. LINDA: Is it still there? ANNA: It's still there, yeah. And now it's used for a garage, you know. My sister lives in the house now, my sister and her husband, and they rent the garage. They have a car, one car, and the other three stalls are rented. So the stalls were very well built; they're still being used today. LINDA: Now, did your family have another kitchen, maybe in the basement, a stove? ANNA: Yes, yes, we had -- not a stove, we had a sink down in the cellar so that when vegetables or whatever was brought in, we'd be -- in fact this is funny, but we had this sink with a mirror on it, and many times there were four daughters, we had four girls in the house. And he would go downstairs to shave so that we could use the bathroom; he was very accommodating. He would go down into the cellar where the sink and this mirror were set up, and he would shave down there. LINDA: Did your family ever use the cellar in the basement to eat? ANNA: No, no. No, it was just for storage. It was cold; a cold cellar, so you could keep vegetables down there, you could have a barrel full of apples that would last you all winter. We'd have a wine barrel, but it was cool enough to store apples. And I recall many times we'd go down, fill up our fruit bowl with apples from the cellar. We didn't have to go to the store or to the farm to buy apples. We'd do it once, and it would last for the winter.12 LINDA: I'm noticing that different regions where Italians are from, that Southern Italians rarely utilize their basement. They actually have a kitchen in the basement, but I think it's probably because it's so much warmer in Southern Italy, so they just grab that tradition here. ANNA: Yes, probably. Ours was just storage. In fact my father built cabinets down there that -- one of them he made like a cedar cabinet that we would put our woolens in there and keep our clothes there that were out of season. And with four daughters, he provided all this for us. But we had the furnace down there, you know, then -- and for a while it was coal, and then it was converted to oil, you know. So it wasn't a place to have a meal, but it was a place for washing your vegetables and anything that wasn't clean enough to come upstairs, you have to wash it first downstairs. LINDA: Now, do you feel as though because there were four daughters that perhaps come of you did what would be called a boy's jobs? ANNA: Yes. Yes. And I was the one to do that. Yeah. Yeah. LINDA: Well, tell me about that. ANNA: Well, I recall during the Second World War when we had blackouts in the area, you know, they would put all the lights out in homes and in streets, then they would assign people to join the civil defense, and they would have various jobs to do. Well, my father and a few of the men from that neighborhood had to go out and patrol the streets to make sure that everything was all right during these blackouts, and I would go with my father. I would accompany him on these blackouts. Then also women were asked to do things. We had Rosie the Riveter at that time, and we also had a motor corps, which is what I joined. They would teach us how to change tires, how to look under the hood to see if anything was wrong with the car, and things that, you know, might go wrong with cars and they weren't -- the men were all in the war, so the women were supposed to know how to do these 13 things. But today I wouldn't change a tire. [Unintelligible - 00:31:42] I wouldn't know what to do today, but in 1941, '42, we did that. LINDA: So let's get back to the blackouts. Was that typically what a son would do? ANNA: Yes. Yes. LINDA: Accompany his father? ANNA: Yeah. Mm-hmm. Yeah. It's the men that did that. Yeah. LINDA: Mm-hmm. So what would happen if you noticed the neighbor wasn't turning off the lights? ANNA: You'd have to go tell them turn off your lights, you know, you got to knock on the door and tell them. It's blackout. And most of them, I think, most of the people really cooperated. If there was a blackout, you'd find the street black, you know, and all the lights were out. LINDA: Mm-hmm. So do you feel that your generation was defined by World War II and the Depression? ANNA: I think so. World War II was -- started right after I got out of high school, and the boys from my class went to war, and the women were doing the work around that the men should have been doing if they were there, but there weren't any men around. I worked for an attorney at that time, Thomas [Duling], in the Park building in Fitchburg, and I started working -- well, the day after I got out of school I started working at Fitchburg State College in the registrar's office. They were taking summer registration, and I was asked if I could go up there and help with the registrations, and I did for about two weeks but then Attorney Duling's secretary was going on vacation, so he called to see if I would help him out for two weeks, and that sounded interesting, you know, to work in the law office. And I did, but those two weeks extended to nine years. I stayed there with him for nine years and really helped him with the legal work. I would go to court with him, take down a lot of the 14 testimony in [unintelligible - 00:33:49] like quote stenography and worked on many cases. The hours were long. There was no 9 to 5 job. It was like get there at maybe eight o'clock in the morning. You might still be working at eight o'clock at night if there were a case that were coming up the next day, a new trial, or you'd have to be there interviewing witnesses and getting ready for the next day. I did a lot of traveling with him between Worcester and Boston to go to the various courts. LINDA: Was there ever a time that you wished that you had gone to Washington? ANNA: Yes. Yes. There was. [Unintelligible - 00:34:32] get there. LINDA: But you had mentioned before that your parents thought that education was very important. ANNA: He did. Yes. But they also felt that they could not send me to college. The money was not around for a college education, and I think at that time too it was felt that a girl was going to marry, raise a family, and stay at home. It wasn't as necessary for a girl to have the college education as it was for a son. And that was the situation when I got out of high school. There wasn't any money for college. But when my sisters, my two youngest sisters got out, he was -- he wanted to send them to college. They were -- I think they got out three years after I did, but they didn't want to go. So I always felt that I wanted go further into education, and I went back to school after I married, and I had six children. One of them died in infancy. But after the five children were grown up, the youngest was then in junior high school, I did got back to Fitchburg State College, and that was in 1973, I believe it was. LINDA: So you were about 51 or so? ANNA: Yes. Yes. Yep. I would call -- the math teacher in one class was showing averages. And he says, "Now, the average student, the average age of this class is," and he's going up and down the aisle, you know, and this one 15 was 18, that was 19, and I was 20 now, and he got to me and I said 50. And I brought that average way up there. So they laughed at that. LINDA: Well, good for you though. And I bet you were an inspiration to all of them. ANNA: I enjoyed going. I found -- you know, there was a lot of young people that, you know, sometimes they have the reputation that they're just going to college for the fun of it, but there were some there that were really into getting an education, and it was nice to see that. LINDA: So during the time that you were going to college, did you have children in college? ANNA: Yes, I did. Yeah. My oldest son had already started. He was, I think, in his sophomore year, and my second son was in his last year of high school. He was ready to start the following September. And my other two children were in high school, and my last daughter was just going to start high school. She was in her last year at junior high. She was in the 8th grade. She was going to go in the 9th grade. So I had a 9th grade, 10th grade, 11th grade, 12th grade, and one in college. LINDA: Well, did you take a full course load? ANNA: Yes. I did. In fact, I took an accelerated course because I wanted to get through as quickly as possible knowing that I had family responsibility. So I did finish in three and a half years. I got through in December of '76. LINDA: That must have been a big family graduation party? ANNA: No. LINDA: No. ANNA: I didn't want any party. I was just glad that I had finished, and I did graduate magna cum laude, so I felt good about that. That was good. LINDA: So did you feel as though you growing up in a household of girls and your parents really didn't have enough money, and they thought you're a woman, maybe didn't need an education, how did you feel that you had two daughters and three sons? ANNA: Three sons. Yes. 16 LINDA: Did you treat them differently? ANNA: No, we wanted education for them. They knew from day one they were going to go to college, and knowing that they were so close in age that I knew that I had to prepare for this, you know, and I did. My husband, of course, knew how to save money, too. He knows how to spend it, but he knows how when it's necessary to save it and start investing, and we were able to do it. There were four in college and one in graduate school all at the same time. So that was quite a hefty bill to pay, you know. But we managed it. LINDA: So getting -- I want to still talk about your childhood in Fitchburg. I remember you talking about a sled and a tricycle. ANNA: Yes. We had one sled and one tricycle, and it was passed down to all four of us. Yep. Yeah, there were no bikes. No, nothing. Nothing else, you know. We had this one tricycle, and that was it. Lena had it first, I would have it second, and then the two twins had to share it. Yeah. And the sled the same. SPEAKER 1: Hello. Good to see you. LINDA: So actually, more about the sled and tricycle. I was just wondering if you could tell me a little bit about your leisure time. We know that your generation had to work so hard, you know, just to make ends meet. But what did you do [unintelligible - 00:40:03]? ANNA: Just in our last years of high school when I formed an all-girls band. I think I -- I don't know if I mentioned that before, but we called ourselves the Melody Maids. And we played for our church events, the dances that they would have, the Catholic youth dances, at that time. We played for that. The girl scouts held a prom, and they hired us to play at their prom. I think we got paid a dollar for the evening. One dollar. LINDA: A dollar apiece. ANNA: A dollar apiece. Right. And there were six of us. We had a piano, violin, a saxophone, a trumpet, an electric guitar, and the drums. So we had a nice band. We would practice at my house, open all the windows. The 17 neighbors wanted us to -- they heard us practicing and they wanted to hear the music. So we would play in our living room and entertain as much as -- if they call it entertainment. But we played for the neighbors. Then that didn't last too long, long enough for us to have a few jobs and have somewhat of a reputation around the churches that we could play for them. LINDA: Are you referring to a few years, or… ANNA: Yes. A few years. But then, with the war and girls going off with boyfriends and getting married, we didn't continue anymore. LINDA: So was it typical for your generation to learn a musical instrument? Was that considered important? ANNA: I think it was, especially among the Italians. In our neighborhood, there were mostly Italian families, and there were several that played violin that I know. If they happened to have the piano, somebody would always play the piano. But again, it costs money, and many families could not afford the lessons. In our Melody Maids band, the only Italians -- that were not Italians in the band were -- there were three of us Italian, my two sisters and myself. My sister Lena had her boyfriend, and she didn't want to play with us, so she felt we were too young for her. And she was only a year and a half older, but she didn't want to play with us. So we had another pianist who was very good. But we all played in the high school band. And I didn't play in the band; I played in the orchestra because I played the violin. My sisters both played in the band. One played the sax and one played the drums. And they happened to pick up those instruments because when I was forming my band, I didn't have a sax player and a drum player. So I got the two of them to take lessons and learn our songs quickly. So they did, and they played with us. We had lots of courage, I guess, to get out and play like that. LINDA: Yeah. Did you know of any other girls who [unintelligible - 00:43:40] could play in bands? 18 ANNA: No. That wasn't even in style at that time. They had all boys, you know, they had -- some boys would get together and play in groups. You know, they have jazz bands and things like that, but no girls. I says, well, why not? So we formed the all-girls band. LINDA: What kind of music were you playing? ANNA: Well, our favorites were Glenn Miller songs. It was just the time of Glenn Miller. So we would play many of his songs, and then it was the Polka, "Roll out the Barrel." I don't know if you're familiar with that song. I remember one New Year's Eve; this was all they wanted to hear. The people wanted "Roll out the Barrel," and we had to play it a dozen times. LINDA: Now, did anyone sing? ANNA: Not in our group. No. LINDA: Now, you talk about having money for lessons. Were lessons given at the high school level? ANNA: I took lessons from third grade through high school, and then I didn't take lessons anymore. I gave up playing for about 50 years, and then I got back to it. LINDA: [Unintelligible - 00:44:53] and I hope you want to do that again. But getting back --I don't think that I phrased that question correctly. Did the school's department offer lessons? ANNA: Offer lessons. No. Not that I know of. They probably did, but I don't know. I took lessons from some Joseph Scilano, who is a violinist, and a very good violinist, played with many symphonies in the area. LINDA: So why is it that you chose the violin? ANNA: There was a group, a conservatory that came through the neighborhood to see if there were children in that age group that wanted to take up a violin. And I think that's how it started. I started going to this conservatory for about a year. They would give lessons uptown in Fitchburg, and that's how we started. And a year after that, Joseph Scilano was giving lessons, and he was related to the family too. He was a good friend of ours, and I took lessons from him. 19 LINDA: Yeah. How did you recruit some of these band members? LINDSEY : I put an ad in the paper for an all-girl band, and I received these other three calls for a piano player, the electric guitar, and a trumpet. So it was a good start. It was encouraging to get the girls to answer the ad. LINDA: And then they would join you at your home? ANNA: At my home, right. And we played. Yeah. That was fun. LINDA: I bet. Did anyone every make a tape of you playing? ANNA: No. LINDA: No. ANNA: In fact, one fellow did. He came to the house one time, and he had just got this microphone and he was going to record us. Well, every time someone came to the melody, he would put it on bass. He didn't know who he was recording, and the tape was so awful. He didn't -- he would just pass around from one to the other no matter what we were playing. If we were playing, you know, just an accompaniment, he would record that. So he didn't know what he was doing. But anyway, we don't have that tape. We didn't want it. LINDA: You didn't want it. So tell me about Sundays. I think that Sundays were special days for you and your family. I'm talking about your mom and dad. ANNA: Yes. LINDA: And siblings. ANNA: Yes. It was going to church every Sunday, and Sunday afternoons my father had a bocce court in his backyard, and many of the men from -- his friends would come to our house, and they would play bocce, and this was a favorite game among the Italians. And this would be two or three hours on Sunday afternoon. However, we would always end up going out for a Sunday afternoon ride. My father would take the whole family out for a Sunday afternoon, and before we got home, we would stop and buy three pints of ice cream, which was a special treat in those days. Go home, slice 20 the ice cream boxes, and everybody would have half-pint of ice cream. Half of a pint. LINDA: Wow. ANNA: So that was a special treat. But every Sunday, on Easter Sunday, and then still came up to play bocce, but they would play with hard-boiled eggs. And the one who could play bocce and not get his egg cracked was the winner. So the four daughters would be up on the porch saying, "Pa, are we going for our ride today?" "Yes, we'd go for our ride," and he would have to dismiss the men at one point, and he would take his family out for a ride. It was very special. I think we were the only family on the hill that had a car. So that was quite nice. He needed the car for his work. He always had to carry a truckful of tools with him, and to get to his job he always needed a car. So he always had a car. Every two years he would buy a Chevrolet. And when I was married, he would buy a Chevrolet at Matthew's Garage, and Mr. Matthew knew me through my father, and that was where I had taken the motor car course. So when I was married he had a car for me. This was 1949, and you could not buy cars. I don't know if you recall that. You had to put your name on the list and wait for cars to come in because there was such a demand for cars, you have to [unintelligible - 00:49:55]. So in 1949, he knew I was getting married. So about two weeks before I was married he called and says, "I have a car for you." So that was quite special, and I was working for Judge Duling at that time, and I think my car cost me, like, $800 or $900. It was a nice Chevy. LINDA: Now, was it unusual for you to have your license? ANNA: Yes. It was. Yeah. I worked for Judge Duling, and my father was working building a gas station, very close to the park building and my cousin, [Claude Gimarino], was not working at that time. So he said, 21 "Why don't you and I teach Anna how to drive?" He says, "I'll pick your car up while you're working, she gets out of work," and at that time I'm getting out at four o'clock. He says, "And then we'll be back at five o'clock to give you your car," he would say to my father. So that was arranged. So he gave me a total of three lessons, about three hours, and then he took me out for my driver's license. And I passed. I passed the test. So I had my license immediately, you know. There were no learner's permits at that time. LINDA: And how old were you then? ANNA: I was just working. I must have been 18. It was 1941, so I [unintelligible - 00:51:28] high school and started working for Judge Duling. So I got my license right away. LINDA: Sound like quite the trailblazer in many ways. ANNA: Yeah. So Claude will talk about that now. He said, "My cousin could drive in three hours." LINDA: Now getting back to your parents, did they both speak English? ANNA: My mother spoke broken English, but my father spoke very well. Yeah. I don't recall my father ever having an Italian accent. He spoke very well. LINDA: Now, were they both citizens? ANNA: Yeah. Yes. LINDA: Do you remember hearing of any stories of them going to the American… ANNA: No, I don't. My father, of course, before he was married he was a citizen here because he went into the war. He probably became a citizen very soon after he got to the United States. I haven't been able to find any records on him from Ellis Island. I don't know why, but they don't seem to have his name there at all. They have many Guglielmis, but nothing within their time frame I think he came. I did find some records on my mother, [Carmela Gimarino], but they have the wrong date. They have her coming in 1909 when she was probably 16 years old, and she tells me she came 1919, so her record isn't there either. Not accurate anyway. So I have to do some research on that to see if I can find anything. 22 LINDA: I don't remember what you said, did you check the website? ANNA: Yes, I did. LINDA: You have. And… ANNA: No. I got this wrong information. So I've written to my mother's two sisters in Italy to see if they can tell me anything. And they're -- one of them is in her 90s; the other one is late 80s, so I don't know how much they can tell me. But when I met them in Italy they seemed to be -- they have it all together, so I'm hoping that they can come up with some dates. LINDA: So explain that to me -- the trip to Italy, in what year was that? ANNA: This was in '89. Well, '98. My three sisters and I went to Italy for that express purpose, to meet my aunts, my mother's sisters, and my father's relatives. And this is when we went to Salerno, which is where my aunt lives, my mother's sister, and her other sister lives in Milan, but she was going to visit with her in Salerno during the time that we were there, so we saw both sisters, and they were wonderful. These two sisters are the youngest in the family. My mother was the oldest of the first mother who died at my mother's birth, my mother's. Very soon after my mother was born, her mother died and her father remarried. He had had eight or nine children with his first wife, and he eight or nine children with a second wife. So there are about 18 of them. And now only these two are left, these two sisters. So we met them, and they were a joy to meet. They were wonderful, this 92-year-old, the oldest one, would have her supper and then go out and have her cigarette. The younger sister, who was probably 88, would say, "You're not supposed to be smoking." She says, "It hasn't hurt me for 92 years," she said, "well, why should I stop now?" So she was quite modern. And the other sister was wonderful too, the one that's in her 80s. They have a family out there that I've met, two cousins, you know, are out there, but 23 they're not planning to come to America. Maybe the next generation will. But they all [unintelligible - 00:55:49]. LINDA: Now, did your aunts look like your mother, or did they have any characteristics that were familiar? ANNA: Yeah, they did. One of them, the one in Salerno that I had met probably two years before that when my son Anthony and I went to Bologna for a trade show for our [unintelligible - 00:56:10] business. We went to Bologna. He needed an interpreter, so he thought I would be good to have along there. So I did go with him to Bologna, and then we took the train from there down to Rome and then down to Salerno to meet this aunt, and my son told me, my son thought he was seeing his grandmother all over again, you know. He could see such a resemblance in her to my mother. So that was nice. The other one, too, you can see the family resemblance, but she looked probably more like my grandfather, the old man up on the wall there. Yeah, that's my mother's father. He lived to be in his 90s. My mother had come here in 1919, and she never went back to see him until 1953. All those years. Then she made her first trip back to Italy, and he said at that time, he says, "Now I can die." He says, "I waited for you to come back." And he did. He died. LINDA: [Unintelligible - 00:57:24] ANNA: Yeah. Yeah. He died a few years after that, or a short while after that. LINDA: So did your mother just go back to visit? ANNA: To visit. LINDA: She didn't return to live there? ANNA: No. She just went back to visit her family. LINDA: Did she ever talk about missing her homeland? ANNA: No. I don't think she -- well, she would write to her family, her parents and her -- not her mother, her mother had died. But her father and her sisters and brothers, they would correspond. But there was never a trip, never talked about going back until in '53 when, you know, I was married. All my sisters were married, and she felt she could go back, and she did. 24 There's always a question of priorities. Where is the money going, you know? So in '53 it got to be easier for her when we were all on our own. LINDA: She made the trip by herself? ANNA: Yes, she did. LINDA: So she had only a brother here. So the brother…? ANNA: No. She had more. She had one brother in Fitchburg. But she had another brother in Springfield who had a family out there and we would visit between Quincy, my father's cousin, and Springfield in Massachusetts. We would spend many Sundays going to visit one or the other. Yeah, so they remained close. She also had a sister who lived in Brooklyn, New York, and that wasn't a trip that we made too often but we did make that trip as, you know, six of us in the car, the four girls and my mother and father, we'd go to visit her, the aunt in New York. And she would take a bus and come up to Fitchburg and stay with us for a while. LINDA: Now, I imagine life was very different for the aunts that stayed in Italy compared to here. ANNA: Yes. Yes. LINDA: But I doubt that the aunt living in Brooklyn also had a much different experience. ANNA: A very different experience. She was very modern. We would love it when she would come from New York to visit us, and she would always bring sometime from New York, either some clothes or some scotch. I think it's -- not pantsuit, they were more like pajamas. They started wearing them in New York, and she would come for a summer [unintelligible - 00:59:59] that we would have here in Fitchburg, and she would be dressed with a big hat on, the big sun hat and the pajamas, and she would show up at these outings. I said that's my sister from New York, my mother would say. She would have beautiful jewelry on, you know. She wasn't married at that time. She married later in life. And her husband died in a very sad accident. They had no children. 25 They were both married later in life, but he was working for the trains, and it was 4th of July and his friend who was scheduled to work, said, "It's a holiday. Could you take my place?" because he was going to take his children somewhere. And Aunt Rachel's husband Sal says, "Why, sure. I don't have any children at home." Apparently one train hit another train, and he was caught in-between. So he was decapitated. Very sad. Yeah. So that was the end of their married life. They hadn't been married very long. LINDA: So tell me what kind of person your mother was. ANNA: Well, she stayed at home, always did housework. Always took care of the family; didn't drive. She had twins. I recall many times she would have to go uptown to pay a bill, maybe, and she would have the double carriage with the twins in it, you know, one of these wide carriages. She'd push it all the way uptown, which was a good mile or more, you know, but didn't faze them at all to do that walking. I recall I was going to take my violin lessons, walking more than a mile to go take my lessons. I was given a scholarship when I was in the 8th grade to go to the art museum to take some lessons, and this was on Saturday morning—and that was probably two miles away from my house, or almost two miles—and I would walk on Saturday mornings to go up there and have those lessons, walk back, you know. It didn't faze us at all to do this walking, and -- but then when winter came my mother said I had better stop going to the art museum, so those lessons didn't last too long, so. LINDA: Did your mother have any friends in the neighborhood? ANNA: Yes. They were all friends. Yes. Every house on the hill, we would know them. You know, and many times they would just gather on one another's porch, and most of the times it would be up on our porch because we did have a front porch then, and we were the last house on the hill. They would walk up the hill, and they would gather there. There was a 26 streetlight right across from our house, and all the children would play under that streetlight, hide and seek or anything you could think of that, you know, you could see with the one streetlight. But because there was no traffic, they would just play out there. And as children, all the neighborhood children played together. They all went to the same school because it was their neighborhood school. All belonged to the same parish. So whatever came up as a social event, just have your whole neighborhood doing it, you know. LINDA: So I hear you refer to the neighborhood as "the hill." Did people in Fitchburg refer to it as that? ANNA: It was Belmont Street, and we lived up at the top of the hill. Yeah, it was. It was our hill. And ours was the last house. LINDA: Now, were there a lot of Italian families living in that area? ANNA: Yes. Yes. Everyone in that -- very few other families, there were some. There was on O'Connor family. There was a [Ketteridge] family that I recall, but all the others would be Italian. LINDA: Now, were they basically from the same region? ANNA: No. Somewhere, in fact, they built -- my father built a place anyway. He built the Marconi Club Hall. They called it the Marconi Club because these were people that came from [Le Marche] in Italy. And they all seemed to congregate in this St. Anthony's Parish of Fitchburg in the Water Street, and then coming up the hill they would come up to where the parish, the church, and the school was, which was Salem Street; and then going up the hill a little further you'd come up to where we lived on Belmont Street, and going further on, Hayward Street. But this whole area was Italian area, and this was the Italian parish, and most of the children in the school were Italian. And they formed a Marconi club for the people that came from Le Marche. I think Water Street had another club for people that came from another area also, in Fitchburg. But the Marconi Club was right there behind our church, 27 behind our school, and the people they called the [Marchedioni], they would meet there, they would have all sorts of events there. They would rent the hall out for dances, weddings; wedding receptions would be in this hall. They even had a restaurant, would go in and have their Italian supper, and the club still exists today. Not the club. The clubhouse exists today. I don't think the Marconi Club exists. But it was a place where these people would have picnics. They would -- at least an annual picnic would be up at [Sima] Park, and all the ladies would cook their Sunday specialties or what. It wasn't sandwiches, you know; they would bring their pasta and their chicken or whatever they were going to cook for Sunday dinner, and they would go eat outdoors at the Sima Park. They would have a band up there. They would have dancing. There was just a day out for that whole group that belonged to the Marconi Club. LINDA: What does Marconi refer to? ANNA: Guglielmo Marconi, who invented radio, the wireless. In fact, all the wireless things we use today probably originated from the first wireless, and they called it Marconi in honor of Guglielmo Marconi. LINDA: He was obviously from this Le Marche region? ANNA: Yes. I think so. I'm not sure if he was, but he was from Italy. LINDA: There's a beach on Cape Cod, Marconi Beach. ANNA: Marconi Beach. Yes. LINDA: And that's named after him. ANNA: After Guglielmo Marconi? LINDA: Mm-hmm. I wanted to talk about the boundaries of neighborhoods, let's say, in Fitchburg. Was there ever a period of time where people didn't get along with each other depending on where they lived or what ethnic group they were? ANNA: I don't think -- it wasn't that they didn't get along with each other. I think they felt closer to the ones that came from their own region. But I can't 28 recall, you know, anyone being looked down on. I think if there was any group that was looked down on, it might have been the Sicilians. At that time, they probably felt, you know, he's a Sicilian. But tenant that I spoke of that lived in our house was a Sicilian, and he was a wonderful person. But I don't think anyone, you know, had any hard feelings, or it was -- you're closer to your own region but friendly with the others too. LINDA: It seems like these neighborhood clubs or these region clubs helped bring people together? ANNA: Yes. LINDA: Did the parish also do this? ANNA: Yes. The parish did. The parish had societies for women, for men, for their unmarried women, from the time they made their first communion, which would probably be seven or eight years old, up until the time they married they belonged to the Children of Mary Society. Once they married they joined the Our Lady of Marcomo Society. And the men always had the Sacred Heart Society for the men. Then once the kids get into high school, they would have the Catholic Youth Organization, and they would have functions to keep them, you know, which, you know, many parishes today don't have that. They may have a society or a men's group, but I think the youth are probably more reliant on schools, on their high school, to have group activities rather than the parish. Maybe because the shortage of priests, no time, you know, that could be it. I know our parish today doesn't have anything for youth. LINDA: And what is your parish today? ANNA: St. Anna's Parish here in Leominster. They do have the ladies group, and they do have the men's group, men's club. LINDA: Now growing up though, you belonged to St. Anthony's. ANNA: St. Anthony's in Fitchburg. Yes. And I belonged to The Children of Mary's [unintelligible - 01:10:10] until I married. 29 LINDA: So what kinds of things would you do as part of the…? ANNA: There would be picnics. There would be outings. We would form a group to go to an amusement park. In the winter we would go skating. Probably get a group to go up to near a lake at [Cod Shaw Park], and even younger than the Catholic youth, when you were in the earlier years, the summer activities were keyed around the parish. We had the Venerini nuns there, and the girls would go up there to learn how to do embroidery or cutwork or crochet, any of that work. When the youngsters would go on what they call the [asilo], the kindergarten, and they would learn the, you know, writing and songs or how to write their name, things like that. But this is like a summer school so you didn't look for other things to do in the summer. Your family planned your going to the convent and take these lessons. LINDA: Now, who would teach the lessons? ANNA: The nuns, the Venerini sisters. LINDA: The Venerini sisters. ANNA: Yeah. Yeah. LINDA: Now, are they still present? Do they still have a presence in…? ANNA: Yes, they do. They do. Yes. They -- some of them. I don't know if they still teach, but they did teach at St. Anna's School. We don't have any nuns there now. And they did teach at St. Anthony's School, and they might have one or two nuns teaching there now. But there is a shortage of nuns, too. Yeah. I think now we have two Venerini nuns that are working with the Beacon of Hope here in Leominster, which is a respite care for challenged adults, I think they call them, and mentally retarded. The two nuns take them for outings. Take them to games, take them on swimming in the summertime, and they try to give the families some free 30 time, you know, because it's a constant 24-hour care, you know, you have to -- they need that attention, and they need the activities too. So they take them to dances and to suppers, and they invite them to play games. So, two nuns are doing that here in Leominster. They have their mother house in Fitchburg on Prospect Street, and I'm not sure what activities they have there. I think they're still quite active. They're certainly active in ministry, in teaching religious education, in visiting nursing homes, things like that. LINDA: Okay. So what are the values that you grew up with and you tried to keep those traditions? ANNA: Yes. Our family, my mother, father, the four children, always went to Mass on Sundays. Holy days and Sundays. It was a family thing. We would go to Mass all together. And I did that with my family, too. You know, we'd go to Mass all together as they were growing up. Now, they go on their own. They go. They don't go. They, you know, but some of my family are still keeping that up with their own children, Mass every Sunday and holy days. Some of them break away which is sad, you know. It's sad to have that happen, but you hope that they will get back. But faith and family was foremost in my mother and father's time than it was in my time and my husband's time. Education was very important, and I always feel that you never get enough education. Even if you have a college degree I feel, you know, get more because there's so much out there, you know. If it isn't in the college. It's other things that you can learn, you know, in the arts and music and things like that. There's so much. And don't ever feel that there's a limit to what your brain can absorb. You know, I think if you can do it, this is the time to do it while you're still young enough to do it, you know. LINDA: What kinds of messages do you try to send to your grandchildren? ANNA: That faith -- I write a newsletter every week. I think I'm over, like, 112th newsletter that I've written, so it goes over a two-year period now. LINDA: And this is a family newsletter?31 ANNA: A family newsletter, and I send it to all five families. My children. And I always try to put a message in there—birthdays are coming up, it's a family affair, you know, and if someone had accomplished something, like this week my granddaughter, Laura, got the MVP in soccer. She's a sophomore in high school. So she got the MVP. So I sent that in my newsletter and let everyone know. And if someone has played football and is, you know, scored a touchdown, I tell them that. I always tell them what's going on at church. I always try to bring something in that has to do with faith, you know, and values, you know. Things that you look for, you know, and things that would be good for them to do. And they're very young. The grandchildren, I think, always looks forward to that letter. In fact, if I should mail it one day too late, they're, "Where is it?" you know. If the mail is one day too late in arriving, they look for it. And I try to keep them abreast of what is happening in the family because they're all so busy that they don't communicate like they did when they were younger, you know. They see each other quite often, but now, one has a game and the other one is going somewhere, and now one family lives in New York, so. But they're doing -- I like to help the others here in Leominster what's going on. LINDA: Did you ever foresee that? ANNA: No. To write a newsletter? LINDA: Not just that, but that your family would be so widespread and so busy that you had to write a newsletter to keep up. ANNA: To keep up. Right. Yeah. No. But I think it was bound to happen, because the two boys are now running the two businesses, and they're as busy as they can be. And my daughter has her own little business, my daughter, Rose Mary, which is just a small phase of the comb business. She has the side combs, the decorative combs that they use in their hair, 32 bridal salons, especially. And my daughter Mary Ann is in real estate, and she is busy with that. And the grandchildren, living in different parts of the city, go to different schools, so they don't see each other as often. And of course, the one in New York comes out for holidays usually. If the children have an extra day off from school, they'll make a trip, or we can get out there, we visit them. But they also -- they look forward to the newsletter. And as long as they like it, I'll keep writing it, you know. LINDA: I think it's a wonderful idea. ANNA: Yeah. LINDA: What do you think your parents would think of the new generation? [Unintelligible - 01:18:43] ANNA: Yes. I think they would say that it certainly is different. At that time, they'd go to school, they'd come home from school, and mother and father would be at home at supper time, and mother would be at home all the time. But we didn't have the cars that they have nowadays, so any activities would be within your area. You had to walk to it. Now it's from Leominster you can get to Worcester in no time. You can get to Boston. Drive to New York. So I think they would say times have changed. LINDA: You think they'd be happy about it? ANNA: Yes. I think they would because it seems to be better. We have more opportunities, but it's, you know, I hope it is better. Sometimes they have too much and they appreciate less. If you can get everything, you know, nothing means too much to you. AT/pa/my/mfb/es

Part one of an interview with George Antonioni. Topics include: Family history. How his mother started in the restaurant business and opened the Lazy A and then the Il Camino. What it was like making pizza and working in the Lazy A. How his parents came to the U.S. from Italy. His parents settled in Leominster. Italian clubs in the Fitchburg-Leominster area. George's childhood memories of food, reading, and travel. Speaking English at home. His mother's work history. Working in the family restaurant business. George's education and work as a principal and teacher in the Leominster school system. How he knew Norma, his wife. ; 1 WENDY: This is Wendy Rhodes online with the Center for Italian Culture at Fitchburg State College. It's Monday, September 24th, 10:20 AM, and we're here at the home of… GEORGE: George Antonioni, 24 Dillon Street, Leominster, Massachusetts. WENDY: Okay, and with us is… ANNE: Anne Masifero. WENDY: And… NORMA: With Norma. WENDY: Okay. So George, thank you for agreeing to do this, first of all, and maybe we should start with the restaurant business. Can you tell me about your parents? GEORGE: Yes. My parents came over as children; in fact, they came over the same year, 1916. My mother was 10 years old and my father was 12. And they grew up… my father at first was in Oakdale living with his uncle on a farm, and upon reaching 16, he moved back to the Leominster-Fitchburg area. My mother lived down on the Railroad Street with her parents until she, uh, married my father at which time they moved to Leominster because they both worked at DuPont. And over the years, my mother always had a yen to cook. WENDY: Could you just tell us your mother's name? Including… GEORGE: Ilda, Ilda Cattel. And, um, in fact they lived in Fitchburg. And as we grew up, my parents, of course, were not able to go to school too long. My mother stopped school at the age of 13, and my father at about 14 or 15. But my mother was tri-lingual; she could speak French, Italian, English and wrote as well as any high school student. And my father was a well-educated man for he always read, and they insisted on us studying at all times. We were at times a semi-Italian family and other times an American family. We did not speak Italian at home. But during the war, my mother finally convinced my father that perhaps she could have a restaurant.2 WENDY: And which for? Which restaurant? GEORGE: This was the Lazy A Restau-, at World War II. And upon coming home, my mother was cooking in the house and sending products out. She was making a lot of pizza and éclairs. And then, in 1948 they started The Lazy A Restaurant. It's not an Italian name, but that was the lazy Antonioni's. WENDY: [Unintelligible - 00:02:57] GEORGE: You could not be lazy there. WENDY: So where does the term "lazy" come from? GEORGE: My brother, I believe, thought of the name The Lazy A. And so we carried that restaurant for 10 years, I believe; and it probably was the third Italian restaurant that the city had had because Monti's was, I believe, the first and still in existence, and that was started way in the '30s. And then for a brief period there was another Italian restaurant, Concheto's. You probably remember that. That was very highly successful but did not stay in business for too long. And then The Lazy A came in. And The Lazy A is now called The Gondola and it's still in business. And then… WENDY: Where is The Lazy A? GEORGE: On Lancaster Street. WENDY: Now, is this close to where you lived? GEORGE: Yes, we lived on Longwood Avenue, so the house was on Longwood Avenue and the restaurant was on Lancaster Street. [We're home from three blocks] straight through, so there's no problem about having to travel; and I had married and my wife came to Leominster to live, and we stayed with my folks because I was still in college, and we're all working in the restaurant. And then we get out of the business, and my mother got anxious again and wanted to go back in business again, and so they started the Il Camino Restaurant, which is down on Central Street. And that too was a highly successful restaurant; but at this time they start and 3 get up in age, you know. My brother was not interested in taking it over; he was a lawyer and I had just been promoted to junior high school principalship, so I wasn't interested in taking the business over. Only my wife was, and we didn't do it. So it's a strange thing. We sold the Lazy A to Mary and Gus Lelli; and Gus is a partner in the business, and his wife is an Angelini. And then when we sold the Il Camino, that's Lelli's wife's sister is an Angelini also. Well, married and this [Chikielini], and her daughter bought the restaurant; so we actually sold it both times to Angelinis, but the Daigneault's on it 'cause the husband is a survivor. WENDY: Okay. The Angelini… GEORGE: Still a lot of Angelinis. WENDY: I haven't interviewed anyone yet by that name. But getting back to the restaurant business, can you explain a little bit more about your mother? You said that she started making éclairs and pizza? GEORGE: Yes. WENDY: So what does that mean? She made it for whom? GEORGE: Well, we lived at -- the Lancaster Street lots faced DuPont, and my mother was known as a very good cook. And she used to make pizza, and so they would order it from her. So when they left on Fridays especially, she would have a large number of pizzas and have it delivered at DuPont. And éclairs. Because of those, they didn't eat meat on Friday evening. So pizza was a big item. So we take over 30, 40, 50 pizzas; and so my father knew that the business would succeed. But just in case the business did not succeed, the original building was such that you could convert it easily into a four-room house. So the financial risk wasn't as great as it probably would have been if you built it as a restaurant per se. WENDY: Who made all of the bread dough or the pizza dough?4 GEORGE: We made it. What we would do on a Friday, my mother would be the cook and take care of all the restaurant part. My father and my brother would be making the pizzas, that is, putting the ingredients on; and we had another person who'd be rolling the dough. We didn't flip it like they do now; we bought a pie-making machine, okay, down in Boston, and my mother had bought some dough down there and she worked it around and they could get a nice round pizza right there, so. I think they bought it from Johnson and Johnson, and I think after that Johnson and Johnson's [unintelligible - 00:07:51] the pie-making machine is a pizza machine also, because it's… WENDY: Can you explain the workings of it? GEORGE: Well, I guess if you… all it was a set of rollers, and you would feed the dough through the roller and it'd shape it as you push the tube. And you get any size you want depending on how big the pizza dough you put through. And then you put it in the pan and you put all of them aside and let them raise. Because on those days, raised pizza dough was the rage. It wasn't like today where you have all the thin pizza crust. It was still thick dough on those days. WENDY: Now, is that called Sicilian? GEORGE: Now they call it Sicilian pizza, but everybody who made pizza in the old days was more of a half-inch thick. WENDY: And what kind of toppings? GEORGE: On the toppings, my brother and my father would put tomato, a little bit of oregano, grated cheese -- the mozzarella hadn't really come in yet because mozzarella's a later thing. But those days it was grated cheese, and we put on anchovies. Friday was popular. At the end of the week, you put peppers, onions and hamburg. We use to call that The Summer Special. And while they did all that work, I had the easy job; all I did was answer the telephone, wrap 5 it in, give the pizzas to the customers. For two hours that's all I did. WENDY: That's all you do? GEORGE: That's how big a business it was. WENDY: We can stop and take a break. GEORGE: Excuse me? WENDY: Would you like to stop? GEORGE: Yeah, I get a… WENDY: Okay. GEORGE: We had a very big business, very big business. And of course, Norma was out, blown all the way to sink. As I said, Norma would be there also and she'll be a waitress and take care of the dining room; and then when the other girls came in, Norma's day was not done. Now she became my mother's assistant and go on with cooking also. WENDY: So you must have liked it. NORMA: I did like it. WENDY: Sounds like a lot NORMA: [Unintelligible - 00:10:08] WENDY: You don't mind doing it. NORMA: I don't mind doing it. GEORGE: When I married Norma, she didn't know how to cook. WENDY: I guess that helps [laughter]. GEORGE: Norma was working… well, in the economy [unintelligible - 00:10:25] things like that. Actually she was down at the MIT Lincoln Lab a while also. So she had been around, but she didn't cook, assisted with the cooking at home. NORMA: I was the cleaner. WENDY: You were the cleaner? I could see why you'd want to learn how to cook then.6 GEORGE: But now she's an excellent cook. My brother said she's the best in the family on cooking. From a beginner to the top. And that's pretty how much we did it. WENDY: Let me clarify something. You said that your mother began with the pizzas and the éclairs because she was primarily catering to the DuPont crowd and you would bring them. Now, was the restaurant open? GEORGE: No, not at that time. And just before we opened, actually, she was delivering pizzas on Friday noontime to Foster [Grant], which was a big company in town on those days, and -- I still have one of the big pants that we used to use. And we'd take those up there and they would sell them in their lunchroom, because they had a lunchroom. It was such a big place and they'd buy four to six sheets of pizza every Friday. WENDY: And then they would reheat them, or…? GEORGE: Well, they come up hot and we'd give them right up there to them. And I don't think they had to reheat them, but they would sell them. And it's quite a thing. She had a going business before she was even opening the door. WENDY: Yeah, when did she begin making the pizzas to deliver on that Friday? GEORGE: The delivering of the pizzas started during the war after I had gone into the service. So by 1945 I'd say she started doing it regularly. WENDY: But as she began making the pizzas, you said that she would deliver them on Fridays but it must have been a process all week? Can you… GEORGE: No, no. WENDY: No? GEORGE: No, to make the pizza, you can make the dough couple hours ahead of time to get it raised, and then we'll start cooking them. Doesn't7 take long. Pizza's a quick item, actually, and it cooks in 15 minutes at the most. WENDY: So there wasn't a lot of preparation? NORMA: She got up early in the morning. GEORGE: On that day, yeah. WENDY: Preparing time. GEORGE: Because she did éclairs also, she'd make huge trays of éclairs. She used to make them with a custard filling, and people liked them. She'd been making those before. My mother was an excellent baker. She was very good at baking, and people knew it and they would call up and ask her to make éclairs. She wasn't a cookie person, you know. People think of Italians as cookie persons, but my mother was more cakes and éclairs, cream puffs. WENDY: Did she bring any of those recipes from the old country? GEORGE: No, I don't believe so, 'cause she came over as a -- as I say she was nine, ten years old depending on what part of the year she came over 'cause she was born on 1906 and she came over in 1916, so. WENDY: But her mother -- did she travel with her mother to this country? GEORGE: She came over with her mother. In fact, [pure witness of the game], she came over on the same trip. We have a picture of them in my daughter's house. My daughter's great aunt [unintelligible - 00:14:01] old family pictures, and she's got one on the wall there, my grandmother coming over with the girls. [Unintelligible - 00:14:10] four with my Ma on that picture? NORMA: Four of them at that time. GEORGE: See? That had to be quite a trip. Mother coming with four daughters. WENDY: Did you hear anything about the trip? GEORGE: My mother used to talk about it, yeah. They had a lot of trouble on that ship coming over. I think there was a murder. The ship had 8 been used when they came over to transport some beef, and all these people going back spat up and get rowdy and they had trouble amongst themselves, and there were submarines. It was not a pleasure cruise. So it was… I imagine it was a howling experience. WENDY: So she traveled here with her and mother and her sisters. GEORGE: Yeah, came directly to Fitchburg. WENDY: Did anyone else travel with them? GEORGE: Not to my knowledge. They came as a family unit, and that was it. WENDY: But you have an uncle or a brother. GEORGE: Well, my grandfather was already over here, and she had been over here before. WENDY: Your grandmother? GEORGE: Yeah. She had been over here before. My mother had never been here before. My grandmother had been here to visit my grandfather obviously; and same thing with my father, he came over with his father, though, and then his mother was supposed to come over with the sisters. So one of the sisters was [unintelligible - 00:15:47] and they had to wait 'til she got married, you know, before they could come over. And in the meantime, my grandfather on my father's side went back, but he left my father here with his brother down in Oakdale. And my father never saw his father again, actually, 'cause he didn't go back. WENDY: Okay. GEORGE: He was working on the railroad, the reservoir, one or the other. Because right there in Oakdale, we have a big sand area that they were using, and my uncle's farm was probably half a mile away to the woods, which I've traveled many times. So it wasn't too far to go to work, and he's kept working there, and then he'd go back to Italy. All these men in the old days used to leave home and go to 9 work, make some money and go back the other way. So they have made many trips. In fact, they have a watch. It's in the bank vault right now, but it was my grandfather's watch and it's 1885. So he had made trips over here previous of that trip. WENDY: Your grandfather was here and your father was here. GEORGE: Yeah, they stayed on the farm. WENDY: Okay, and how old was your father when he made the trip? GEORGE: He would be 12. WENDY: About 12. What part of Italy did they come from, your father? GEORGE: My father came from what you'd call Central Italy on the Adriatic side, and it is what they call them the Marque. And [unintelligible - 00:17:38] is the big city where he came from; they lived around the city. Then my mother came from up in Revine. That's not the one everybody thinks of. They always think of Ravena along Maine, this is only Revine, it's R-E-V-I-N-E, and it's way, way up in the mountains. The closest town you'd recognize would probably be Cortina. It was a mile away, up in the Dolomites. I was there, so. WENDY: Oh. GEORGE: I was there this past November. I've been there twice, actually. It's really out there, it's really out there. Oh yeah, one of the cousins. They're at Pieve di Cadore. We visit those places twice. I've been to my father's area once. We stayed there four days when I went to visit my uncles, you know. We took the children over one time to see the whole place. WENDY: When you say they're out there, what did you mean by that? GEORGE: You mean…? WENDY: You said the village with your uncle. GEORGE: Oh, it's really out there, way out in the boonies. It's really interesting. In fact, the village is practically dying, but now we went back this last time, this restaurant is building a huge 10 conference [sauna there]. So that might revive town. I think there was 60 to… like 60 children on the school system, so that tells you how the town was going down, down, down. But as I say, there's a hotel-restaurant that's building a -- 100 or 500 units they wanna build there. It's gonna be big. And you wonder how anybody's gonna get there, but they're gonna get there, you know. NORMA: I forgot to tell you that his mother lived in a castle. GEORGE: [Laughter] NORMA: They called it a castle, and it looks like a castle. GEORGE: But it's not really a castle, you know… NORMA: They called it's a castle, though. GEORGE: Yeah. That had to had been either some nobleman's home or a religious site at one time, but you still got the [slots] where they used to pick the gums on the arrow, so you know, it's interesting. WENDY: And they lived there just their family? GEORGE: That time it was just their family, yeah. But now, I think it's just their family again. But they have a system over in Italy that they sold parts of the houses. So… you own this section and you own that section and I own this section, but they bought the whole thing back now, so they own the whole thing. But [unintelligible - 00:20:24] of Pieve di Cadore, we three families that own parts of that house, it's almost like each one had own tenement; and we're not talking condos. These are old houses, and that's the way it was. WENDY: Do they all have a private bathroom? GEORGE: They have private bathrooms, but then there's a general bathroom on one floor that you can use. They're well-constructed houses, nice houses, and it's a nice area [unintelligible - 00:21:15] 'cause the air is clear as a bell, and… the scenery is magnificent. WENDY: Are there any tales about Ma leaving the village and going to the port city to come here?11 GEORGE: No, no. My mother didn't say too much about that. But once again, her family had been in the United States, aunts and uncles, what have you. They have been coming here since the 1800s at the Civil War. In fact, one part of the family had an open-air kitchen; they used to sell down in Pennsylvania down in the coal mine areas. But if you're familiar with the United States' history, the coalminers' staff had a lot of trouble unionizing and all that stuff, and things got very, very… bad. And fighting and things were going on, so they came back home. And they also had a catering business up in Pieve di Cadore. So they were hardworking people; they've been all over. My grandfather had been all over Europe and [unintelligible - 00:22:33] in Turkey as well as United States before he decided to settle here. WENDY: And why is it that they decided to… GEORGE: Well, it's like everybody else. They're looking for a good life and avoid turmoil. In Europe, there was always turmoil, or had always been, always building fortifications and things like that type of war, so they come over here. WENDY: And then specifically took the [unintelligible - 00:23:00]? GEORGE: Well, someone went to Fitchburg, maybe to work up in the quarry, because the Venetians, which my mother is, they're [unintelligible - 00:23:14] way up on top of the hill over towards the quarry. And that's where they lived, most of them. My grandfather lived down in the, what we call the patch area, but most of the Venetians didn't live there; they lived way up to what we call [unintelligible - 00:23:33]. And I don't know how many families there were about, but there weren't too many Venetians. They had their own club and everything; they tended to segregate just like all the Italians in -- you came from one section of Italy, you went to that club, you didn't go to any other clubs. Like in Leominster, there were six or seven Italian clubs. Can you imagine that? They 12 work, and all of those, I would say, work within a half-mile radius, seven clubs, six or seven clubs. WENDY: The club brings up an interesting question. Do people consider themselves Italian or do they consider themselves part of a particular region? GEORGE: I think when they talk amongst themselves, they were Veneziano, [unintelligible - 00:24:31], Sicilian or whatever. Of course the Sicilians tend to think of themselves as separate anyway. If you've ever been to Sicily, they don't call themselves Italians; they're Sicilians. But on Lancaster Street itself, there were one, two, three, four, five clubs within a quarter mile. We go from [unintelligible - 00:24:56], there were five clubs. And there was one on the back of [unintelligible - 00:25:01], I was a Saladini and then you had Colombo Hall on the [unintelligible - 00:25:06]. Can you imagine? What other nationality would do that? WENDY: Right. GEORGE: They did it, and Fitchburg -- or at least three, I think. That doesn't help you any, you know. In those days when you want them to do something, you need political power. You still do, and they were fragmented, you know. WENDY: Is there any attempt to unify? GEORGE: There was the Sons of Italy, but the Sons of Italy was never strong up in this area. In fact, even to this day it's basically a social club, I think, if anything. I think it exists, but that's what it is. They don't get that involved in politics, to my knowledge. But I don't know. WENDY: Why don't we talk about the particular club that your parents had joined? GEORGE: My father, even though we lived in Leominster, did not join one of the clubs in Leominster because he'd grown up in, you know, from 16 on or 17, he had lived in Fitchburg; so all his friends were up 13 there and he was one of the incorporators of the Marconi Club, [unintelligible - 00:26:23] founder of the club. And so he never left that club. And in fact I joined it for a while, but there was no call for me to go up to Fitchburg if I want to join the club, so I stayed there for two years. But I remember that club, they started up in, you know, room in a three-decker, and they move around, I guess to find the cheapest rent, and they finally decided to build the club that they had still in existence. They were hardworking people. I remember them working in the wintertime building that thing. And imagine, you'd get some man outside, [unintelligible - 00:27:09] out there, banging away on its soles and soils, trying to get the trench in so they could get the water. And [unintelligible - 00:27:19] was doing some of the brick masonry, and you know, lock in all that [unintelligible - 00:27:24] working away, donating their services for their club. WENDY: Why do you think they found it important to join? GEORGE: I think everybody has to belong to something, and that was their -- they're with a feeling they belong and they felt safe with these people. They grew up with them; a lot of them were childhood friends from the old country. It's like talking… well, if you went to the California and suddenly there's 10 Leominster people there, families, they'll just have to stick together. Especially in those days when language was a problem. WENDY: Do different regions of Italians have trouble talking to each other? GEORGE: It can happen. The language picks up certain sounds. For example, in the [uplands] who probably pick up a little of the French accent; and if you live up where my mother comes from, sometimes the words sound almost Germanic. I still maintain that when I sit there and listen to some of these people talk from that region, "strada" was almost like "strasa" at times, you know. And then if you go down to Sicily, I think the two regions are so far 14 apart that language is a part of the problem. They all had their own idiosyncrasies and what have you. See, in the United States, it isn't quite as bad, you know. We all understand each other. Some of those have their pronunciation, but it isn't that much different than the [unintelligible - 00:29:15], you know. WENDY: On Americanization classes, I realize that both of your parents came here at a young age, so they maybe learned in a public school. What about your grandparents? GEORGE: My grandparents, I'm not sure what they did. I think in those days, you could -- if my grandfather, which he must have done, gone to classes, I think you could get your whole family in under your citizenship. You didn't have to go yourself. The wife and children, I think, automatically could become citizens when you did. So, I'm sure when he was back in Italy, he'd be going to night school, because he was another person who loves to read. I still remember my grandfather reading all the time. He's like my father. The two men in my life were men who liked to read with an educating process on. My father still read the Italian newspaper almost 'til the day he died; and the only reason why he read it was so he wouldn't lose his language because there was no one to speak to anymore in Italian, a very few people. So he kept getting the Italian newspaper. WENDY: Now, is that something that the club perpetuated, with the Italian language? GEORGE: No, no. When I became a member of the club which was after the War of Ceylon, 1947, '48, a lot of the discussions were in English even though they're all old Italians, most of them. They all would speak in English at the meetings. Otherwise, the guys like myself who would be new members and young -- you know what happens to the young guy, he becomes the secretary. They were talking in 15 Italian, it wouldn't come out like so. They pretty well-learned how to speak English. The men did anyway. Some of the women… I won't say their station in life, but what they did, they didn't go anywhere in those days. You know, it's not like today; we all get in the car and take off. The women tended to stay home more. Now, the women do the driving half the time, so. But those days, women didn't go too far. WENDY: What kinds of things do they do at the club? GEORGE: Well, the men, if they went on their own, the Marconi Club was a little different. For a while they even had a [unintelligible - 00:32:06], but that didn't last too long because it's kinda noisy when they're busy playing cards. Most of the men would play a game they call three-seven, and they played for the beverages or candy bars or whatever you wanted. If you won the game, you either could have a glass of beer or candy bar or whatever. But big gambling games, I never witnessed any of them. They might have had some, but most of the men were there just for recreation; they weren't there to make a fortune. And actually, before I went to the service, there were a group of bakers. They would come in on Friday night at 11 o'clock, they're all done working for the weekend, and they started to bring in pizzas; they bring a tray of pizza, and they hand it out. After a while they began to smarten up, you know, but more and more people were coming, and now they bring two trays, three trays, so they start to sell the pizza. But I remember my father waiting for them to come in on a Friday night so we could have a slice of pizza, each of them. We'd take one home to my mother, maybe two slices probably 'cause my brother was old enough, so we have family pizza by the pan they were selling it, you know. And it became a big business up there. I think the Marconi Club kept 16 selling pizza, spaghetti, and cola very recently. It's quite a business. WENDY: Was the club open every day? GEORGE: The club used to open up generally at night because most of the days the men were working. But then later on the club opened up in the afternoon, and I don't know what it's doing now. I hadn't been there in many, many, many years. WENDY: So who would round the club? GEORGE: They would have the board of directors, so to speak; and then they would have a bartender, and then the treasurer acted like the steward. So that's how they ran it. And you had your monthly meetings, and the steward would get up and explain how much money came in, how much money went out, all that, you know. Every month was a big time financial statement. We got news of how little money came in or how much, it was always the important thing. WENDY: Were there dues? GEORGE: Yeah, we used to pay, I think $1 a month, and it was a… we'll get [in club] in that if you get sick, you would pay the sick benefit. It wasn't very much money, I mean, it could probably get $8, $10 a week, which was not big money, but it helped out with the fee, with the salaries were in those days. But if you were very, very careful, you just didn't get it for staying home. You had to be sick; and if you're sick, you get the benefit. 'Cause the sick committee was always checking, so it's quite a thing. You had to see it to believe it, because everybody want to take care of everybody but nobody wanted anybody checking what they were supposed to be doing, you know. So it's good, it was a nice club. Then they used to run some dances. Dances weren't too successful there for some reason, but they ran a few. In fact, and I played for 17 a couple of them with our sisters. Yeah, we talked about all-girl band [laughter]. NORMA: I can't believe I'm hearing those stuff. GEORGE: They were the originals. So that worked out. And one of the strange things was—I don't know if Anne remembers this—we even had Italian prisoners of war up there one time. Were you there? [Laughter] ANNE: [Unintelligible - 00:36:17] GEORGE: [Laughter] World War II. A lot of Italians were taken prisoner, so there are a lot of them down in Boston. And apparently Italian prisoners of war weren't considered dangerous, so on a Saturday night they would take them out or something and -- to different club and organizations. So we have a dance or something, they came up once or twice to my knowledge, and they circulated with the people, and they'll look at and then women talk to them because they see if they knew anybody from where they came from, you know, hope against hope, you know my family or something, you know. But down in Boston, they'd be there out all the time. In fact, some of them married Boston girls after the war. WENDY: Was there any marriage in here? GEORGE: Not to my knowledge, no. But down in Boston, there were. They used to have the fence and the girls would go over them and talk to them. In fact, I was just reading a book about the Italian prisoners of war down in Alabama and how friendly they became with the girls down there. They'd go up to work in the fields and what have you as prisoners of war. So everybody knew them. And I ran into one of them when I was in the army. I was going overseas in California, and the Italian prisoners of war were doing the cooking and I was with the KP to get that one out. When you stand there and you're cleaning out a soup tureen and the Italian isn't, you won the war. We're winning this war. And they used to say they 18 had, you know, an American soldier got this beer garden at the camp; they used to say the Italians and the wine garden—I don't know how true that was but that was one of the stories. That's when I was on camp Enza, guess that was outside of Riverside, California. But a lot of strange things in this world. WENDY: Let's get back to your childhood. You said that you grew up in a home that was half-American, half-Italian? GEORGE: Yeah. On a Wednesday night, you know, they say that's Italian spaghetti night, we might be having corned beef and cabbage. My father since he was alone used to eat in diners a lot, 'cause he lived in boarding houses 'til he get married. So he picked up all these habits of different food, and when he married my mother, my mother said, "What would you like to eat?" And he'd say, "I like those, I like that." So we used to eat a lot of those things, you know. WENDY: Now, how did she learn how to cook corned beef and cabbage? GEORGE: What? WENDY: How did she learn how to cook something like that? GEORGE: My mother was very clever when it came to cooking. She could make almost anything taste great. In fact, I used to go up to my mother's after I was married many, many years. We'd go up and have corned beef. I still like corned beef. So we just have all these -- lot of American food. We were not heavy on ravioli and things of that type 'cause my mother worked in the factory all the time, so those things took time to prepare. You gotta make the ravioli and things like that, you've got to… so we [unintelligible - 00:40:01] things like that, but not all the time. WENDY: But there must have been other differences besides the food. GEORGE: Well, we're only two boys in those days, so we traveled around a lot, and my father had a car, we always had a car. And most of the people stay pretty much in the neighborhood, so we would always 19 be going someplace. Like they had taken me to the World's Fair back in late '30s, things of that type. So we're going places. My father -- I still remember my father taking me to the library when I was -- my first trip to the library. When I took my daughter to the first trip to the library, things hadn't changed in the Leominster Library in those days, so we went there. It reminded me of when I went with my father. And they always let me read, you know. On those days, you weren't supposed to read comic books because they weren't good for you. My father let me read comic books, and that was very good because you picked up vocabulary. You learn a lot of vocabulary and you learn a lot of history. And so he constantly would buy me -- books were never a problem. WENDY: You said you went to the World's Fair. GEORGE: Yeah. WENDY: He drove to New York? GEORGE: We took the bus. WENDY: Okay. GEORGE: We took the bus. Of course that was quite an experience because, you know, the bus stops periodically for a rest stop and something to eat, so my brother and I thought it was the greatest thing ever because every time we stop, we get something to eat, you know, candy bars or something. I always had something. And we got to New York and we stayed at my aunt's. She was a nurse in New York, Mrs. Andriski, and she goes down in Oakdale actually, and she and her girlfriend who came from Fitchburg also were nurses. So they worked nights, so we were there and there was no [intrusion] upon them 'cause they weren't there anyway. And during the day we'd go to the fair. It's quite a thing. WENDY: World Fair in Italian Pavilion? GEORGE: Oh, yeah, we went to the Italian Pavilion. That was a one-week first stops, and then we went to the G Building and we did our 20 rounds. It was quite a thing. [Unintelligible - 00:42:35] obviously to see the Magna Carta, still remember that. And Crown Jewels. So it was interesting. My mother was -- I keep saying my father, but my mother was a real [unintelligible - 00:42:51] on this occasion. She made sure there was a Parent's Day; she made sure my father went because he would be working nights so he could go on the daytime. Those days, you'd want in the daytime for most of these things, so he would go. He'd be the only man on the room unless Mr. Anderson -- he was the only other man that'd be there. Usually all these Italian women are sitting there, listening, and there'd be my father and Mr. Anderson. At nighttime, it was a far from -- she'd be there. She'd always be there. School was important to her; and in fact, more important than my father. My father always believed that you could trade some things like that, and he was like trades can do the same thing for you that college can. But she was always, "You gotta go to school." WENDY: So there was never a question of you or your brother going to college. GEORGE: No. We'll always gonna go to school, that was a given. And make sure we got enough good grades to go [unintelligible - 00:44:07] hear about it when report card came. It worked out good. WENDY: So you never felt any influence to go into the restaurant business? GEORGE: No, no. They never tried to talk me into [unintelligible - 00:44:22] restaurant business. I have, when it comes to cooking and labor, I have two left hands, so it wouldn't work. Right, Norma? It would not work. NORMA: [Unintelligible - 00:44:37]. I couldn't tell. GEORGE: They used to put me out front. You're the maître d'. Get [unintelligible - 00:44:43] kitchen. It's dangerous. WENDY: Did you say that your mother was tri-lingual, or is that your grandmother?21 GEORGE: My mother. She would -- spoke French fluently, and she could speak Croatian French. WENDY: [Unintelligible - 00:45:00] she lived in the [unintelligible - 00:45:03] area? GEORGE: No, she lived down the patch, that's Italian. Italian and Sicilian. But when she worked in the factory as a little girl -- 'cause she was only 13 when she started, she started to pick up all these languages. All of that language -- as you well know; the younger you are on foreign languages, the better off you are. And she's being young like that, she paid attention, and she could talk French. WENDY: Did she ever try to teach you? GEORGE: Teach me French? No. Once I got into the… fourth, fifth grade, I think they decided that they might have made a mistake in not teaching us Italian. So they'd send me off to St. Anthony's for a couple of weeks in the summertime, and my mother got a whole set of Italian grammar books for kids, and she start to teach me some Italian. But by that time, it was too late. I did take Italian in high school, though. It was too late. I understood it and I could read it, but I couldn't speak it. WENDY: In the home, they always spoke English, too? GEORGE: No, they talk Italian when they didn't want us to understand, but they soon discovered that was a mistake, especially with me. They knew I could talk Italian, I could understand it. I wouldn't speak it, but -- in fact, my grandmother was very upset that they weren't teaching us to speak Italian when we were little kids, but I think my father wanted to make sure we were fluent in English, learn what would be our mother tongue, English, you know, and I was -- so that's what you had to do. WENDY: It's interesting that your grandmother felt differently. GEORGE: Yeah, yeah. WENDY: Can you remember any discussions or anything?22 GEORGE: No, I just… I know that she was upset that we didn't speak Italian. My grandfather didn't seem to bother at, all but he always talked English to me anyway so, you know, you'll never -- my grandmother would mix the two languages a lot but my grandfather was -- you'd think he came from America too. WENDY: Although she started working in a factory at 13? GEORGE: Thirteen. WENDY: [Unintelligible - 00:47:27] GEORGE: Had to be in Fitchburg, I don't know which factory. It was supposed to be 14, but she got in at 13. WENDY: She ever talked of those days? GEORGE: Not too much. The only thing she regretted was she had to leave school. She liked school, but… I don't know how many children were there, six or something like that in those days, and I guess times were tough. She was the last one they pulled out of school; she and her oldest sister did not go to school. From then on, my Aunt Toni who was next. She became a registered nurse and Ere, I think, went to business school; Doris didn't go to school beyond high school. Ellen got married, so she didn't go beyond high school; my Uncle became a dentist; and my other Uncle had a high position on industrial business down in Connecticut—he was a Holy Cross graduate. In fact, he and I graduated together… the same class. That was due to the war, yeah. WENDY: What year was that? GEORGE: '49. 1949. WENDY: [Unintelligible - 00:48:53] strongly about your education? GEORGE: I think she felt strongly because her home aren't going to school, my father not going to school. But those days, it was quite common. They didn't go to school. I still remember living on Longwood Avenue and boys becoming 16 or girls becoming 16, 23 that was beyond the school, get a job and they make $12 a week, something like that, if they went to work. WENDY: And you never felt that call to begin making money? GEORGE: No. Actually we were two boys. Most of the families had three, four, five kids, probably be a widow or a widower, you know. We lived well compared to a lot of them. So it never happened, you know. We had always had a small garden, we had chickens, we had some rabbits, and so it was always plenty of food; and my mother was an excellent person on canning. She could can almost anything. You'd talk about buying corn on the cob -- she didn't freeze it; she knew how to can it, corn on the cob. And it wouldn't be a lot of log. Remember that, Norma? She just had a lot of corn left over one time, hated to see it go to waste or fed to the chickens, so she just vacuum-packed it. That was good. She can do the same thing with -- I remember being in the service, I'd get a jar, and then it would be fried rabbit. Oh yeah, I like rabbit, I like rabbit. But she wouldn't waste anything, it was amazing. And she could sew, she make my trousers, shirts, and then my father bought her an ironing machine one time. I don't know if you remember those things, they used to call them a [mangle]. It's a circular item, and she had it, and my father bought an old electric sewing machine, and the man came to look at it and show how to run those sewing machine, they saw that and they [unintelligible - 00:51:23] "What can you do with that?" She says, "They can iron shirts," everything. I see her do something, so she'd get all this things and says, "I'll give you a job on Saturdays to demonstrate these ironing machines at Sears and Roebuck." So for a year or two, that's what she did. Every Saturday afternoon she'd go up there, take all our laundry, and iron it to people. She's a very clever woman, my mother. WENDY: So did she work while you were in school?24 GEORGE: When I came back from the service, she didn't work anymore in the factory, because now I had a sister and then a child after I came back, our second sister. We're two families; we got two younger sisters and my brother and I. I'm 20 years older than my younger sister, almost to the day. She's December what, Norma? Fifth? NORMA: December 2nd. GEORGE: Second, she's the 2nd and I'm 15th. 20 years difference. WENDY: Is she working prior to the… GEORGE: Yeah, she always worked in the factory. My mother always work. My mother couldn't sit still. She had to work all the time. My wife is like her; she can't sit down. WENDY: I'm always in awe of everything these people were able to get done, but they'd still work. It's amazing. GEORGE: She would can all of it. We had canned blueberries, canned raspberries, strawberries, all kinds of tomatoes, jelly. She used to make [unintelligible - 00:53:02] school when they used have what they used to call hospital days, and you would bring canned goods and things like that. And my mother gave me some apple jelly to bring, and the teacher looked at it and looked out to the window, it was clear as a bell. She went down and got another teacher, "Come over here, I wanna show you something." She's still [unintelligible - 00:53:22] she hold it and, "Look at that." WENDY: Without machine? GEORGE: Without machines. Norma could tell you stories about my mother. She knew my mother all her life, so… very clever. Her mother was an excellent cook, and mother was a real cook. WENDY: You wanna talk? You wanna say anything? NORMA: She looked tremendous, she knew everything and she could do anything. Anything you ask her do, she could do it. WENDY: How could she do all these work, working during the day? Was it weekends, or after…?25 GEORGE: When she came home at night. My father would start to prepare some of the things for her, you know, then he'd go to work and she'd come home and… and since he wasn't home, you know, he's at work and then were just two boys, so she'd get working on something, keep busy, and that was it. WENDY: So when you were [unintelligible - 00:54:17] passed away? GEORGE: No, my father died around, what, 86, Norma? NORMA: 80 when he died. GEORGE: He was 80 when he died. So, around 80, about 1984 when he died. Or no? NORMA: No, [unintelligible - 00:54:43]? WENDY: Okay. Maybe I just assumed, but you said there were two families. But I think what you said was you're… GEORGE: Oh, I'm different. WENDY: Okay. GEORGE: There was a girl who died in between, and she always wanted a daughter, so then they had the girl. Then they figured she's growing up alone, so they had a second one. WENDY: She wasn't busy enough? GEORGE: No, no, no. By the time the girls came, my brother and I were fairly grown up. I was 16, so I can help out with the little girl and keep her busy and things. And then when I went to service, my brother was old enough to help out. Like he'd deliver a lot of the stuff. He wasn't in school, so, you know, he was -- it's quite a thing. WENDY: So let's go back to the restaurant business. So after she became successful with these pizzas, can you fill in the blanks? They aren't, for example -- I get the impression that they had always thought they would open up a restaurant when these pizzas became popular.26 GEORGE: Yeah. My mother was really strong, and my father was conservative, you know. He had reached the point that DuPont were, you know, your job is secured for life now and do we really wanna get involved in this when they had two little children. And my mother kept insisting, so they get the building. We bought the land in the back there because my father want the [unintelligible - 00:56:28] to go to work. Those were on empty lots that DuPont owned then. The DuPont was selling all the lots they had, and the buildings. Because in the old days, the factory used to buy up a lot of land and houses, and then the people would then rent them from them. Well after the war—just prior to the war, rather—they started to sell some of the stuff up during the Depression. And there was this one lot sitting there which was directly in back of ours, so my father was able to buy it for a very ridiculously low price in those days, and just cut a hole in our fence and we had an entry to the Lancaster Street. And we put a little garden there, and… since the lot was there and the expense of buying land was no longer a problem, we'd put the building up. And as I say, it was not a huge building. I got a picture of this some place, the original building. So they started, and the business was so successful. It was so successful I think within six months they had to add to the back part of it for kitchen expansion. And then a year or two later, they added to the dining room section; they doubled that up in size. Then later they put an entrance on the side to get down into the basement area. We were there 10 years, that's all. By that time, everybody is getting tired; 'cause in a family business, everybody's gotta work. WENDY: So when did she expand the menu? Was that immediately? GEORGE: Immediately. We had a full menu right away. She didn't do just the pizza. She wanted a restaurant. And so we had all the different 27 types of spaghettis and manicottis and all that stuff. It was an Italian restaurant. WENDY: So you said she really didn't cook ravioli or manicotti at home? GEORGE: No. WENDY: So she determined… GEORGE: But she was an excellent cook. A successful restaurant is one that -- where there is no waste. So if you make something and it's not going to sell, you get two choices: you've got to find a way to use it or throw it away. My mother was so clever. We used to have veal, for example, and there'll be little pieces left over when they churn the cutlets from the bone, just little pieces, and what are you gonna do with it? So it's still on the menu, veal casserole. [Unintelligible - 00:59:24] wine and [unintelligible - 00:59:25], and all of a sudden something that was waste is a big seller. In fact, if I were to go to one of the restaurants now, that's what I would have. WENDY: Historically, I hear of something. I hope that hasn't been happening a lot in time. It's just suddenly, but suddenly [unintelligible - 00:59:47]. Okay. Thank you. So were these all her recipes that she used? GEORGE: Yeah. WENDY: Was she the only cook? GEORGE: She was always the lead cook. She had help, but she still made the determinations of what would go in and what wouldn't. Norma would work with her, and if my mother wasn't there and then Norma would be the lead cook. But it's always family. WENDY: How many [unintelligible - 01:00:21] was it open? GEORGE: Six. We had long hours in those days, not like today where the restaurant opens for six, eight hours. Those days it opened at 12 noon, it closed at 12 midnight. 28 WENDY: Incredible. [Unintelligible - 01:00:39] dad worked at the restaurant? GEORGE: My father would work there during the day, and then he would go to work at 4 o'clock at DuPont, then he gave that up once he got the -- after he got his 25-year pin, he left and stayed just at the restaurant. WENDY: And you said you and your brother also worked there? GEORGE: Yeah, we worked there. My brother was a good cook too. He's the one that can do many things. He takes after my mother on that respect. He can cook and he can do electrical work and do tile work. You name it, he can do it. WENDY: And what is his name? GEORGE: Attilo. WENDY: Attilo. Is he called [unintelligible - 01:01:28] GEORGE: Oh, Tony. WENDY: So can you tell us a little bit about what it was like working in a restaurant? NORMA: It was hectic. I have a little girl with me and she used to stay with me while I waitressed and worked in the kitchen. [Unintelligible - 01:01:43] my daughter, and then when the [unintelligible - 01:01:45] stay with me too and he'd hold on behind me while I was waitressing… with his finger, he used to -- he know how to play [unintelligible - 01:01:54] jukebox. He'd know every song that was there. And he used to dance, and army people used to come in and just watch him. And we really wanted him to be something, but [unintelligible - 01:02:08]. GEORGE: Wow. I didn't want… NORMA: He was good. He's staying and he danced, and he was about three or four years old when he was doing this. GEORGE: Younger than that when he started.29 NORMA: When he started. But somebody signed him somewhere, but I'm not [unintelligible - 01:02:23]. No? GEORGE: No. NORMA: No, he stopped her after that. And he was [unintelligible - 01:02:29]. Soldiers used to come just to see him. GEORGE: Yeah, with them [unintelligible - 01:02:35] big in those days and they -- we had a lot of army trade, and they'd come up and they look to him and give him a quarter, so he'd play five songs and … NORMA: And he knew every song there was, too. WENDY: So how did he learn to sing? [Unintelligible - 01:02:52] GEORGE: Just listening. We'd have a stack of records like that, 'cause we had a jukebox, people would come around and they changed them, and they'd give him a bunch of them, you know. And he'd pick one up and he was four years old and maybe at best pick the record up and say, "What's this one, Georgie?" "It's a concerto." WENDY: Wow. GEORGE: [Unintelligible - 01:03:20] concerto. He couldn't read. It was scary. That's why he could do it though, unbelievable. WENDY: Do you think your mother enjoyed the restaurant? GEORGE: Oh, she loved it. She loved it. She didn't wanna get out of it; but everybody was tired, everybody was tired. We reached a point that you don't wanna do it anymore, so we got out. But then they went back in again, and… WENDY: What year do you think that was? GEORGE: I think it was 1958, about 1958 they got out. Then by '62, something like that, they went back in again. When they get through, they went cross country with my two sisters. I think they went for about six weeks; they made this trip down to Mexico all around the United States and back to Leominster. And again, went back to Italy, you know. They wanna see America first. He liked the United States. He was always… he'd be what you call a 30 patriot. He was in the National Guard; he always loved to talk about his being in the National Guard, you know. He loved the United States. He went back when his sisters became ill, and after that he made several trips to Italy. WENDY: 1958, and they were back into it by '62? GEORGE: '62 or '63, they went back in. WENDY: So what happened? They got some left and… GEORGE: And my mother was ready to again. But they didn't stay that many years after that because [unintelligible - 01:05:10] going to sixties now. And my brother and I were not really that interested in doing it. In fact, I'd worked Friday night and he'd work Saturday night. And all I did was… I was the maître d', so I wasn't doing much of anything. But she wanted us there, my brother and I, and he was on Saturday and I was Friday nights. WENDY: Did you work there too? ANNA: I only worked there about a year and a half. WENDY: With the Il Camino? GEORGE: Yeah. WENDY: Can you tell me about the history of it? For example, did she purchase the restaurant from someone else? GEORGE: No. She wanted to go back in business, and so she had my brother start looking for land; and that's pretty much what he does, a lot of titles—he's a title man. And he found this piece of land that was just sitting there and was surrounded by, I think, the land owned by [Blocks] Incorporated, but there was one watch just sitting there. And so they bought it, and they started off with the original building. And this restaurant was not quite like the Lazy A; it was more of an -- I won't say it's upscale, but it was basically a restaurant, not a pizza combination. Times have changed and the pizza was no longer the big thing for a restaurant, we thought, and so they built this restaurant with the idea of [unintelligible -31 01:06:48]. And it took off right away. In fact, it's about so fast that they had to add a little room in front. They had to -- was it two rooms, Norma? NORMA: Two. GEORGE: Yeah, put two rooms in the front. One was a lounge and the other one was another restaurant, dining area. And then they added in the back so the place, just kept growing; but as I say, as a full restaurant, delay gets even more intense than a… I was not going stay that much more, and my brother as I say, was -- his practice was starting to pick up, so. And the girls were too young. Well, Jeannie was in college and Margaret was at the restaurant, but she had got married, so. WENDY: Mother is still doing most of the cooking at the time? GEORGE: All 'til the last day, 'til the last day. She loved it. Her mother was the same way. When they had their restaurant, I think they were happiest when they were in the kitchens. Wouldn't you say, Norma? NORMA: Oh, yeah. She loved to cook. [Unintelligible - 01:07:59] and my mother did all the cooking. WENDY: That's a good trainer. Was there a push for education for your sisters? GEORGE: Yes. Margaret went to Rivier for one semester. She did not like college, and she came back and went to work with my mother; and she married and had three children. She's a widow now. And my sister Jeanie went to -- up in -- what is it? NORMA: Merrimack. GEORGE: Merrimack, Merrimack College. And she [unintelligible - 01:08:39] she has a good job. She's been there for many, many years. In fact, starting next year she can even retire. When you're 55, you can do that nowadays. And she's the boss; she has no children. But she takes after us, and that she's a reader too. She 32 loves to read, read, read, read. In fact, she just came back from China with my sister Margaret. They both went and Margaret said -- Norma asked her, she's too much talking, so the first two days, she didn't said anything, she just read. [Laughter] WENDY: [Laughter] So tell us a little bit about your schooling. I know you're a graduate of Holy Cross? GEORGE: Yeah. WENDY: Prior to that? GEORGE: I went to Leominster High School and graduated in '44. I started college in July because it was wartime, and I figured I could get some time in before I went to the service. It would also guarantee me a place when I came back. So I finished my freshman year in February of '45, and I was in the army in March of '45. I came back and went back to school, and I've taken some extra courses, somewhere by accident, and so I found out if I went to summer school I wouldn't have to do my second semester junior year, and I graduated in '49 instead of '50. Then I went to [unintelligible - 01:10:24] and I stayed up there for a few months teaching elementary school, but I didn't like it. And so I came back to Leominster in 1952; I was in the Leominster school system. I became a principal of junior high school. I was the first Italian secondary principal. Christine McDowell was the first elementary one; her name was [unintelligible - 01:10:52]. She was the first, I believe, elementary school principal of Italian descent. WENDY: But you were the first secondary? GEORGE: Yeah, and I became the high school principal, and I was the first one there full-time. Dr. [Anthony] did it temporarily while they found a principal. And then I succeeded the man that they had found, [unintelligible - 01:11:20] two and a half came in. And he was not the first curriculum coordinator of Italian decent, Robert 33 Duppal would come to Leominster and worked for a couple of years, but Robert Anthony, Dr. Anthony, he became the first assistant superintendent of curriculum. He was a native son also. And Dr. Amadeo became the first Italian superintendent in Leominster. But after I became junior high school principal, a whole wave of Italian descent children of Leominster became elementary school principals. Salvatalis and Negliosis and Sardeli, Bacani, they all came in after. And then Chino Salvatori became a junior high school principal. There was a whole wave of us, but that's the way of America anyway. If you've studied history, whatever wave comes, through they take those jobs and their children will want different types of jobs. Just like the old story of the Irish cop, they had their wave and they moved on, their children did not become policemen, they took better jobs. And same thing with the Italians, they moved up, [unintelligible - 01:02:46] loaded with doctors and lawyers and everything now are of Italian descent. WENDY: Did you ever considered going anywhere else to teach? GEORGE: I had taught as I say in [unintelligible - 01:12:58] for a short time, but I didn't like elementary. So I came back to Leominster and waited for a slot opened. And as I say, did that until 1988, and when I was 62 and I retired. But I went down at St. Andrews, and I did the five-year short-term—it was supposed to be shot-term, but it was five years before I left as elementary school principal down there. So I taught everything from pre-K to high school. WENDY: And how did you meet Norma? GEORGE: I've known Norma all my life. NORMA: His father and my father lived in a duplex house in Italy. And my mother and his father used to go to school, elementary school in Italy with each other, and we were friends… GEORGE: Yeah. I've known her from day one.34 WENDY: Wow. Did anyone suggest that you get married? NORMA: No. WENDY: No. NORMA: I asked him to go to my high school prom, but he had to go into service so that was the end of that. But while he was in the service he used to write to me, and when he got home, started going together, and that was it. GEORGE: Fifty-three years later. WENDY: Fifty-three [unintelligible - 01:14:20] and 54 in February? GEORGE: Yeah, it'll be 54 years in February. WENDY: I have a friend who's talking to her the other day, and she said that a lot of marriage nowadays is anything over seven years. GEORGE: My daughter was 25 last week. Twenty-five years of marriage. WENDY: So the parents feel when you came to Leominster to teach? GEORGE: Oh, they were happy 'cause I was gonna stay. Nobody wants their children to move, you know that. So they're happy that I got a job in Leominster. WENDY: But it wasn't just a job. You became a teacher. GEORGE: But I never left the community, [laughter] actually. I mean, when I went to Holy Cross, I was a base student. I didn't live there. And they always knew I was gonna be a teacher 'cause I always said I was gonna be a teacher. That was always… I'd made up my mind. By the time I'm in seventh grade, I knew I want to be a schoolteacher, so that was it. So there was no big surprise, and they accepted it. I don't know if they wanted me to be a lawyer or something else. My brother became a lawyer but I didn't, I just wanted to be a schoolteacher. I was happy. I used to be a very happy schoolteacher. WENDY: What made you become a… GEORGE: Combination of things. Like my wife said, "Before you take the job, are you sure you wanna be one? Don't do it for the money." 35 And I said, "No, I won't do it for the money." But the money was good compared to teaching, and it was a new challenge. But if I didn't become a principal, I'd have been happy anyway. Like my wife said, I always used to sing going to school in the morning, so I was happy. I had a happy life. I was also the audio-visual director, so I had a couple periods off every day to do that. So it was a combination that you didn't get bored, you know, you taught your classes and then you went into these audio-visual materials. And I always kept busy and never had any big problems with children, so that's fine. In fact, I still run into students who remember our days in class and the punishments, which are big jokes, you know, and it was fun. And even when I was looking for better jobs, I'd go to the school boards; some of them were my pupils, and they would joke with me what we used to do in class and all. I actually get people coming up—Norma can tell you that—they still come up and say, "Remember when…" NORMA: [Unintelligible - 01:17:23] write papers, that's what I always hear. WENDY: Write papers. What subject did you teach? GEORGE: I was a Social Studies teacher. I had taught a little bit of English in junior high when I was a long-term sub there, but basically a Social Studies teacher. I teach world history and geography and economics, current events, government, depending upon what they needed in that particular year. I always used to like to teach three subjects. I didn't like teaching one subject all day, so I teach three. And every year I get a new set of textbooks so I wouldn't bog down, repeating the same things all the time. This year I'd get a new history book and next year I'd get a new geography book, the next year I'd get a new economics book or government book. So it's always something different, and it was a lot of fun.36 WENDY: How did you see education change from the time that you were at Leominster High School? GEORGE: Well, of course, there's more technology involved now, but they haven't changed that much, you know. They're not as reluctant to speak as they were in the old days, but you can still control them, you can still -- they still can be reasonable. They have to know why more now than they did in the old days. For example, I would punish children as a principal, then I would say, "What did you do? Did you egg the teacher on?" And most of them would say, "Yeah." So, "Then what do you want me to do about it? [Unintelligible - 01:19:13] punishment coming?" But he said this, "Did you egg him on?" "Yeah, I did." "I'll speak to him, but I also have to punish you too because you egged him on." And he was, "Okay." That's that. They wanna be treated fairly. The old days, you know, they're the boss and we're not. But today, you let them know the ground rules and it works out pretty well. At least I think it that. I haven't taught for a few years now, but when I was at the end of my career, they would come in and see me and they'd sit and talk. And I always had a jar of candy, you know./AT/jf/rs/es

Part one of an interview with Settimio "Babe" Pellechia. Part of this interview has been redacted as per Mr. Pellechia's wishes. Topics include: Family history. How his parents came to the United States from Italy and settled in Leominster, MA. His father's work at the Leominster Button Company and then as an ash collector. Babe's memories of growing up in Leominster during the Depression. His father's construction work. The work his siblings did. What it was like for Babe working with his father on construction jobs. How his brothers turned the construction business into a concrete block manufacturing business. The different businesses Babe started and worked in. What the Lincoln Terrace neighborhood was like when Babe was growing up. His mother mainly spoke Italian and knew very little English. Speaking Italian in the home. What his mother was like. The types of food his mother would prepare. Babe's work in the motel business. What life was like when Babe was running an ice cream shop and a motel. His children's education. ; 1 BABE: And [DeMazzio]… [Icelano], and then after would actually be Joseph… Enrico. LINDA: Enrico? BABE: Enrico. LINDA: Enrico. BABE: Uh oh, we got caught. Enrico, and then myself, and then Olga. LINDA: Hi, I'm Linda. SPEAKER 3: Hi nice to meet you. BABE: Now there wasn't -- of course Dave passed four years ago. There was another DeMazzio [unintelligible - 00:00:53] Icelano. LINDA: Oh, there were two others that died? BABE: Well, they died at the age of three and one in the same weekend. LINDA: Okay. BABE: Before the others. That's why they renamed the others. LINDA: They renamed -- so. I'll put that in here there were two others. You want that in there? There was another one DeMazzio that died and they named it the next one DeMazzio. And Icelano was one that died, and they named the next one Icelano. SPEAKER 3: I would like that in there. LINDA: Okay. SPEAKER 3: [Unintelligible - 00:01:21] you should have hired her. LINDA: How are you, Tina? TINA: Oh good. I'm… LINDA: Now, your marriage. BABE: Now, there's a bad part. You had to spoil it. October 5, 1945. I'm sorry, October 6, 1945. LINDA: Uh-oh. SPEAKER 3: I was just waiting. I didn't want to say anything. LINDA: October 6, 1945 and you married Augustina, what? SPEAKER 3: Traini. BABE: T-R-A-I-N-I. 2 LINDA: Augustina Traini. BABE: This comes out of that because [unintelligible - 00:02:01] that's part of the book [unintelligible - 00:02:05]. SPEAKER 3: Babe, you're going to have to do this because -- I'm sorry, I have a class. I'm teaching down the college, so… BABE: What was that last one? LINDA: Your children, the names of your children. BABE: Okay, Linda… LINDA: Another Linda. BABE: And Barry David. LINDA: And Barry David. Residential history. Now, you lived on Grove Avenue. BABE: The different places we lived? Well, we started in Lincoln Terrace where I was born, and Miller Street, [Union] Street. After Union Street we went to Sterling, Westminster, to Grove Avenue, and then over here. LINDA: Norfolk, okay. BABE: I missed one, Litchfield Street. LINDA: Where was that at? BABE: That would before Union. LINDA: Litchfield? BABE: Litchfield. Is it recording now? LINDA: Yes. BABE: Then I can't joke as I go on. LINDA: Oh, you can joke. I just wanted to make sure that… BABE: Had I graduated it would've been the class of '40. LINDA: Okay. Work history. What did you do? Your father? BABE: What did I do? I started with contracting with my father. My father was a contractor, so I fit in that very good. And then I was self-employed in the following businesses: Babe's Ice Cream, Dennison Motel, West [unintelligible - 00:04:06] Motel, and Babe's Miniature Golf, subdivision of the real estate [unintelligible - 00:04:07] houses. LINDA: Subdivision of real estate? For housing? 3 BABE: Mm-hmm. That's all I did. LINDA: What about Blocks? BABE: Yes, true. That was another corporation. These were all my own. Blocks was a corporate… LINDA: That was with your father? SPEAKER 3: At least she remembered. LINDA: Contracting with father, Blocks -- was that the name of it? BABE: Well, Blocks was the name of the four brothers. SPEAKER 3: It's a great thing you guys are doing, you know. I'm so glad you got that older woman, that 100 year old lady, 106. Thank God you got her before she went. LINDA: We got a little bit. You didn't get to see her [unintelligible - 00:05:09]. SPEAKER 3: Not me. It was someone who was working before. BABE: To show that we're not always hiding. That first sheet down there, what's that say? SPEAKER 3: This one? BABE: Yeah. SPEAKER 3: The Joy of Growing Up Italian? BABE: No, no, the one above it. SPEAKER 3: American? BABE: No, what's the next one you have there? SPEAKER 3: This one, the Americans? BABE: Oh, that's what you had. [Unintelligible - 00:05:26] LINDA: Babe, my next question here is St. Anne the Church, and that's St. Anna. You always belonged to St. Anna Church? BABE: Off and on. LINDA: Off and on. SPEAKER 3: Yeah. BABE: And now it's off. SPEAKER 3: I'm just going to say bye. And I'll see you. LINDA: Good luck. Nice meeting you. [Unintelligible - 00:05:58] 4 BABE: It was a pleasure. SPEAKER 3: I got pineapples for my still life. LINDA: You're going to paint still life? SPEAKER 3: No, they're drawing. It's a drawing class that I'm taking [unintelligible - 00:06:05]. BABE: Before -- do you want to shut it for just a minute? SPEAKER 3: Not on there, so… LINDA: Thank you, Ann. I would have checked. Okay, we have to start again. I'm Linda Rosenblum with the Center for Italian Culture. It's Tuesday, October 30th at 1:20 p.m. We're with Babe Pellechia, and Rosa Farrell is with me, and we're at his home at 27 North Fourth Drive in Leominster. Hi, Babe. Thanks for letting us come and interview you. I thought that you could tell me a little bit about your parents first. Are they the ones that came to Leominster? BABE: Yes. My father came to Leominster in 1906, and… how far do you want me to expand on that? What he did? LINDA: Sure. Well, first of all, where did he immigrate from? BABE: From Rome. LINDA: Rome? Did he travel with your mother? BABE: No, she came in 1909. LINDA: Okay. Who did he travel with? BABE: He just came on his own, I believe, at that time or whatever, people were coming. He left from Roma and landed in New York then came to Leominster. LINDA: Do you know why he came to Leominster? BABE: You know, that's one of the questions we never asked him, and I'm still trying to find out why he came to Leominster. It must be because of friends; that's where most of them was. You know, there was quite a colony of the Santa Maria Del Combo, and that's from the section of Italy where they came from. So it could have been from other friends where he… 5 LINDA: What do you call that, Santa Maria? ROSA: Del Campo. Santa Maria Del Campo. BABE: It's an Italian organization. ROSA: The particular region in Italy. LINDA: So, close to Rome? BABE: It's south of Rome. It's actually -- El Vita, and [unintelligible - 00:08:00]… which is part of -- give me a minute. My notes over there, please, these little papers here. It's [unintelligible - 00:08:17] Costa Lata. C-O-S-T-A, L-A-T-A, I believe it is. And that's where most of them came from. LINDA: And I had just read in some of the papers over here that he studied industrial agriculture when he was in Rome? Did you know that? BABE: He was a farmer, whatever that may mean. You know, like I say, [unintelligible - 00:08:41]… authority, and that sometimes these things happen like a good friend of ours that was a garbage collector, and he did wonderful things. The city of New York gave him an award, and they said he is a sanitation engineer. And the guy got up and says I am a garbage collector. So I don't think he did much studying at that age because there was -- things were pretty rough there in Italy. LINDA: Did he ever tell you any stories of Italy? BABE: Oh yes. LINDA: Would you like to share some? BABE: Well, he would say the way they used to work and so forth, and their living conditions, which was pretty rough at that time. That was the reason why they came here. Of course, supposedly our roads were paved with gold, and that's out there. But he was always a very hard worker and always wanted to do more, learn more, do more, which he did do in his life. Like the first thing he did when he came in to Leominster was he headed down to Leominster Button Company, which is near, 305 Whitney Street, and they're called [unintelligible - 00:10:01] now. And he was a rubber of buttons and combs. They used ashes, and it's surprising that 6 they [unintelligible - 00:10:11] health in that year one of the filthiest jobs that -- the men worked, and this is outlined -- let's see, this is put out by the Board of Health of Massachusetts. LINDA: So he was called a rubber? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: Did you remember him explaining what he did? BABE: Well, what it is, you take the buttons or the combs or whatever they're working on [unintelligible - 00:10:37] was turtle, made from turtle then [unintelligible - 00:10:39], and what the ashes and what the wheels going at the RPMs that it does go, and the water, that polishes up, really polish it. But of course if you got water and ashes and a wheel going you know what that does to the person, and that's what he did for a few years. Surprisingly though in 1914 he sold that fine ashes -- this was a business for him. LINDA: So he realized that there was a use for that ash. BABE: Mm-hmm, and they got him out of that filthy working conditions. LINDA: I'm wondering what does an ash dealer mean? What would he do with the ashes? BABE: You go around and pick up the ashes from people's home, 10 cents a barrel, bring them down and screen it through a screen that water won't go through, and that's what they used for rubbing. That's the compound that they used for rubbing these plastic -- not plastic but the horns or hooks or whatever they were doing. LINDA: Did he get that idea from someone else, to go and collect the ash? BABE: Well, he got the idea from being in business. He got some wagons to collect the ashes, which were -- and the rubber district was a good business at the time, and then he felt that he had that, why not screen the ashes and sell it to the industries, which he did. Another byproduct of that too that the -- when you screen the ashes you always get the coal that never burnt, and half of Lincoln Terrace was the Italian Colony. He used to go down and pick up the coal, and it kept a lot of people warm up there 7 at that time, so that they would go down -- it was on Middle Street where they did that. So [unintelligible - 00:12:33] he helped out a lot of people by letting them go and they go through these screenings and pick out all the little black diamond gold that heats the house, and that was it. LINDA: So this 75 Lincoln Terrace, was that where you lived, or … BABE: That's where I was born, and that's where we lived at the time. LINDA: So he actually -- I just want to make sure that we get this on tape, so sorry to keep asking you… BABE: That's all right. LINDA: It's an old art, and it's not easily explainable. So he would go around to people's homes, or… BABE: Yes. Because everybody burnt coal in those days. You'd call up and you'd go there and then take the barrels out where -- which as he said was very, very heavy, because you'd either have to go up the stairs if they didn't have an outside door or to the bulkhead or something like that, and he aggravated at some people to get more ashes in the barrel [unintelligible - 00:13:26]. And so that's more weight, and then you couldn't screen it. Other than that he had the horse and wagons, put them on, bring them down -- the screening plant was on Millet Street, which is just off of Lincoln Terrace, and there he would screen what he picked up from the people's homes and separate it and sell the extra fine screened ashes to industry. And he shipped it to a few places all over the United States at the time. LINDA: Where did he get the money to begin this type of a business? BABE: By what most foreigners other than Puerto Ricans, saved their money [unintelligible - 00:14:09] saved their money and do it that way. LINDA: So at this time was he married? BABE: Probably should strike that out. That isn't too nice to say, but it's already on tape. 8 LINDA: Well, it's going to be edited. BABE: Okay. LINDA: What did I ask -- was he married to your mother by this time? BABE: Oh yes, he married my mother in 19… I'll put my glasses on. It would help, wouldn't it? LINDA: Okay, but we can figure out the dates later. BABE: Hmm? LINDA: We can figure out the dates later. BABE: Okay. LINDA: So we'll figure it out. So can you tell me a little bit about growing up on Lincoln Terrace? BABE: It's a good thing that we didn't know better. We enjoyed ourselves. It was a happy life and so forth, but I just wonder what would happen today if children had to go through what we did. Our fun would be getting in a sandbank and digging holes and whatever we could find, cups and make objects out of it. We'd play baseball. Whoever had the baseball and the bat would be the one that would pick the teams and when we'd play and how we'd play. And it was -- on today's standard it was really very, very rough living at the time. We had no entertainment to speak of. We hardly go to movies only it was only a nickel to go to the Gem Theater; we didn't get there too often. And the main highlight, or one of them, was at Christmastime at the -- one thing my father would do, he did everything for Christmas. You know, for food and things like that. And one of the big games as I remember would be getting the table like this and putting sawdust on it, and he'd hide coins in the sawdust, and you each had a shape to pick out a shape where you'd want hoping to get more coins than your brothers and sisters and so forth. So that was one of the fun things that we did. 9 But myself as I grew up I always had a tendency to follow him and get involved with his work. By that time [unintelligible - 00:16:36] he was in the contracting. He was more doing contracting at that time, became a contractor. So I always followed him around on jobs and things like that. So I learned more. I think even for myself I think I grew up real fast as far as a youngster. LINDA: Is that partly because you were the seventh son? BABE: No, because that's what I wanted to do. LINDA: Explain to me though what your name means again. BABE: Settmio is seven in Italian, and that's what it means. It's just that the Sette is seven, and that's where the name comes from. LINDA: So I forgot now. You're the seventh son or seventh child? BABE: Seventh son in rotation. LINDA: And how many sisters? BABE: Out of eleven. There was three girls in the family. LINDA: So by the time you came around your family already had six boys? BABE: Yes. I was the seventh and the last boy in the family. LINDA: So how were your brothers' lives different than yours? Were they harder? Were they… BABE: Oh yes. Well, my oldest brother was quite active in the business and so forth. He did all that. But then my next brother was a -- he worked very, very hard, and entertainment was out as far as that got. No vacations and things like that. It was strictly, as I remember it, when -- don't forget I'm entering about the time, well, 8 years old and that was the beginning of the Great Depression. I remember that quite well. The families were living on $12 a week, quite a few of them, which is what the welfare would give you. LINDA: So during the Depression your father was working? BABE: Whenever [unintelligible - 00:18:44] work. Yeah, he was doing contracting, whatever work he could get. On one job he was a supervisor for doing some work at city hall, and this is choosy but you have to do it 10 by the WPA program at the time. And to do a [unintelligible - 00:19:02] for city hall you did it at the time but they send them 30 men. You know, other people that were on the WPA, and they were on top of one another so my father had to let them be -- he had them closing doors, open doors and sweeping, everything but working because they were all in one another's way. But he was a supervisor at that time. But he did work like that there and then we plowed snow in the wintertime—there was income from plowing the snow, keeping the truck busy. Then he did odd jobs as they came up, but nothing -- it was a tough time. To backtrack, my father was very, very successful up until 1929. He owned 33 houses, and one by one he lost them all because people didn't have money to pay the rent and the banks wanted their money and they would just keep taking the house. You know, the foreclosing, keep doing that. LINDA: So he owned 33 homes and he lost every single one? BABE: All but the one we were living in. LINDA: Oh. BABE: Yeah. LINDA: How did he afford to buy 33 houses? BABE: Because he got to be a good-sized contractor. Like he built – he had the contract for all the concrete work in the Leominster post office, which was quite a job in those days. In 1926 he built the Main Street garage down on -- he did the fence around St. [Lido's] cemetery, which is quite a sizeable job, and he built numerous homes. In those days the first homes he built, regular homes like on Lincoln Terrace, there's probably eight homes up there that he built and was sold for the big sum of $2,800. LINDA: Wow. BABE: That's what they were at that time. In fact, numerous times, her dad would work for my father on his trade. You know, blocks and bricks, plastering 11 so that he and [unintelligible - 00:21:22], whenever they had a job that required brickwork and plaster and so forth, they were the first two that he called to do the work. So you see we would all get things first class with first-class people. But he couldn't -- the Depression was too much for everybody at that time, not only him. LINDA: Before we go on, let's back up a little bit. He came to this country, he started -- he used ash to rub buttons et cetera, then he opened his own business selling ash. BABE: He started that, yeah. LINDA: Right. So what kind of time frame are we talking about? BABE: I beg your pardon? LINDA: What's the time frame that we're talking about? BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:22:05] LINDA: Where was it, 1914? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So he was selling ash in 1914, and then he went into the construction business? BABE: I can give you year by year. Let me show you. See, this is the -- you know, all the concrete work on this job there's his -- do you see that there on the box [unintelligible - 00:22:27] and Company? LINDA: Mm-hmm. Oh that's interesting. That's in '29, so this was a bad time. BABE: No, that was the good time; the beginning of the bad started right after that. So that the -- well, he worked the button shop, at Leominster Button… then he -- let's see as we go along here. Okay, now in 1913 he put a grocery store in the house. LINDA: He put a grocery store in your house? BABE: Well, [unintelligible - 00:23:14] to sell groceries, yeah. LINDA: So at 75 Lincoln Terrace? BABE: Yeah, that's still 75 Lincoln Terrace. And then of course he got both here the ashes and the grocery that he did. LINDA: So who's running the grocery store? 12 BABE: My mother. LINDA: Oh, was it your mother? BABE: Yeah. It's just on Lincoln Terrace a small street though, there wasn't -- no store, like you think of stores today. And it keeps on changing. Now right now, then in 1916, he added trucking to that too. LINDA: Trucking? So that's when he's an ash dealer though? BABE: No, he started with regular trucking after that. Sand and gravel and so forth at that time. LINDA: So again, he'd buy the sand and gravel, and then… BABE: No, we had our own pit. LINDA: You had your own pit? BABE: Yeah. He owned the land down on Miller Street, which was back in there. LINDA: So at least we understand the chronological. BABE: Hmm? LINDA: At least we understand it a little bit more, I think. I was going from the ash business right to building. BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:24:43]. LINDA: That makes more sense. We get into trucking, gravel and sand, and then construction. And he would build these buildings himself? BABE: He did all kinds of construction work. He even built the 38 -- he had the contract for the bridge on [unintelligible - 00:25:05] Street in Pittsburgh, which was Route 2A at the time. ROSA: He put the sand and the gravel and the ashes. Didn't he make his own blocks, make blocks for construction? BABE: Started making blocks around 1920. That was part of the… LINDA: So he would use the materials that he was gathering or buying and selling? So who would he sell the blocks to? Or would he use the blocks for his own building? BABE: He would use the blocks or sell them to whoever needed them. LINDA: And how would he make the blocks? 13 BABE: From our own pit, with the sand and gravel we had there on North Smith. He would make the blocks at that time. LINDA: Was it a mold, or did people do them… BABE: It's a machine, the machine that the mold would take care of it. LINDA: What was the name of the construction company? BABE: Pellechia and Company. LINDA: Pellechia? Did they have many people working? BABE: At some times he had quite a few people. LINDA: You don't have to worry so much about those dates, because I can look through that after. I'm just trying to understand how someone comes here from nothing and owns 33 homes. BABE: It was 1925. LINDA: Sand and gravel, ashes and store. So he goes from his buggy to his truck. Now, who's Charles? BABE: That's my oldest brother. LINDA: Your oldest brother. Okay, so your brothers went into business with him? BABE: Yep. LINDA: All six of them? BABE: We all worked for him. We all worked for him. We built a lot of gas stations, too. We had quite a team. Because amongst the team there was my father, who strictly did supervisory work, figured the job and things like that. And then we had Charlie, who was [unintelligible - 00:27:09] equipment as well as piping and so forth; Red was a great laborer; Rico was a carpenter first class; I was a mason, but what I picked -- I went to trade school to be a mason, you know. So when we would get on a job we were pretty much able to do quite a bit of it ourselves. LINDA: Now, who's Red and Rico? Are those brothers? Red and Rico? BABE: Brothers. LINDA: So those are nicknames? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: For who? 14 BABE: Well, DeMazzio and Enrico. LINDA: And where did you get your nickname? BABE: Babe? After 11 kids it's time to call somebody Babe. No, my sister Lena gave it to me as she said when I was a baby at that time. LINDA: So how did your brother Red learn how to build pipe for -- what did you say that he did? BABE: When you run a gas station there's a lot of pipings involved. You know, water and gasoline and so forth. That was how he -- my brother Red was a hard worker and the one that never asked for too much and always -- education-wise Red was very, very limited. In fact, one of the side stories on that is he couldn't learn his general orders in the Army, and as a result of it, on his record, they said he would never be anything other than a private, and he couldn't get any Class A pass. So they went overseas, and he had two companies that he was in that were completely all injured or so forth, and he became the top sergeant of the whole group. So he knew what to do when it was important. He had the smarts for that, but as far as the learning he just didn't have the ability to learn. LINDA: So, how did you all learn and know -- was it, were you apprenticed? Did you have any kind of… BABE: No, no you just learned from one another. That's how [unintelligible - 00:29:19] families just keep going, and it was just, you know, you started off -- and our father knew what was what and we picked it up real fast and just kept going on it. LINDA: Can you tell me or share with me an early experience of working with your father? BABE: Well, I just started, just jumped and started doing it. In fact, I was 15 years old and I built the gas station on the corner of Walnut and Main Street in Leominster. I was supervisor and so forth because they had other jobs, but it all came natural. I just enjoyed it and I just did it. In fact, 15 when I was with the trade school, at the end of the school year I was in the brick mason department, and the instructor told me, "Don't come back; you're wasting your time." LINDA: Wow. And is that why you didn't go back? BABE: Well, I had to go to work. LINDA: Well, bring me back though to a day when you're working with your father. What was it like? Did you all kind of disperse and go to different jobs? BABE: Go to different jobs. He never drove, so one of us had to drive him. One thing about him he was very honest, and he was very thorough. In fact whether we were doing a job contractor or day work he would even tell us, you do the same thing whether it's day work or contract, even if you lose money. So you know, with a bringing up like that, you can't go wrong. So of course when I was very young and we were doing a lawn on Berne Avenue, and we had the big roll that you use to roll with, and I was very young and the roll was banking, and I'll never forget I came close to the bank and I couldn't hold the roll, and it went down and right through a flower garden. That was one of the unpleasant days. [Unintelligible - 00:31:33] let me know that I did wrong. He never hit us or anything like that. But I was worried for a while on that score. But then I'd go figure jobs and then he'd take me with him, because I'm the one that probably liked it the most and did it the most. That was good days. I enjoyed it. I never resented -- I think he taught us an awful lot, so we couldn't lose with that combination. And with a mother that would watch us like we're all just a baby -- whether you're six years old or 40 years old, she wouldn't go to sleep until you were in the house. It was good times under the conditions. As I said though, we didn't know better. If I did that like -- I know that many a times on the job when things 16 were that the -- come time to eat and all we had the money for was probably a cheese sandwich or something like, that you know, just limited, which is -- my son now later on was putting in overhead doors, he had a business he did that, and he was developing by the South Shore there and he came home and he said, "Dad, you know I forgot my money today," he says, "I didn't eat." "What do you mean you didn't have no money at all?" He said "Well, I only had a dollar." I said, "You know, you still could have had a cheese sandwich." He said, "Dad, those days are gone." So that's the difference. LINDA: So, when you'd go with your father to figure jobs you said, did someone call him? Not call him probably, but contact him to build something? BABE: Yeah, people would call from his advertisement. He did advertise, and they'd call him too. You know, a lot of people wanted bids; you have to bid it. So I'd go with him a lot of times and do the bidding and help him do the bidding and so forth. As I grew older. LINDA: So would he write a contract out and then have a company sign it, or…? BABE: Most of the time you just did it with the individual, it was all by -- in those days everything was with a good shake hand, which they meant. Very rarely was there a contract drawn up. Unless it was a big job, and then they'd have that. LINDA: And who was his competitor? BABE: A lot of competitors. There was a lot of competitors. Must have been -- Leominster probably had about 15 to 20 contractors at the time when it got to contracting. LINDA: Were there any other Italians? BABE: Oh yeah. There was probably half a dozen or so I think Italians. LINDA: Did your father apprentice anyone? Did anyone begin working with him and then venture out on their own? BABE: Well, we wouldn't call it apprentice. They just did that, which is the American way to do things. You never met anybody better than 17 themselves, so that -- yeah, we had somebody. I mean, that never bothered him. LINDA: How long did your father do this kind of work? BABE: Until he retired at about age -- he stopped working I think at about age 60. LINDA: And did the company survive? Did the sons take it over? BABE: Well, what happened, we kept the thing going quite a while. Even by that time, the brothers, we went into the manufacturing of concrete blocks on a real production method. We used to manufacture quite a few a day, and that became our sole business then. LINDA: So tell me about that then. BABE: Well, we came back from the Army, and with the -- three of us were veterans, and we got a loan from the government on the G.I. Bill, and we bought this production machinery and put up a whole plant and went into manufacturing of concrete blocks all type on full production. We used to make at that time about 4,000 blocks a day and get out -- plus the building supplies that went with it. And my father first saw [unintelligible - 00:36:15] he gave us the land and he also would watch the building of it when we did that. That was in 1945. In 1946 we started selling the blocks from our new plant. LINDA: And what was the name of the company? BABE: Blocks Incorporated. LINDA: Blocks Incorporated. And you and your three brothers started… BABE: And myself yeah. [Unintelligible - 00:36:42] Well, there were three veterans, but then one wasn't there. One didn't go into the Army and he was part of the corporation. LINDA: So four brothers plus yourself? BABE: No, four brothers. LINDA: Oh, four brothers. Three [unintelligible - 00:36:55]. So you would make these blocks and then sell them to… BABE: To whoever wanted to buy them. LINDA: Do you have advertisement for that company too? 18 BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Good. And how long did you do this? BABE: We did it up until 1979. LINDA: Oh, so what happened to the business? BABE: Well, at the age of all of us at that time it was time to liquidate it, and we did. We just sold off the -- we had an auction for the equipment, we sold the real estate, and by that time we were all -- other than myself all my brothers were ready to retire. Well, one other brother, the one next older to me, he had passed away. So it was just the two oldest brothers, and it was too much at that time to run the business of that, because we built another plant after that. The original plant was at -- our second plant we were doing 8,000 a day, so -- but it's, it was competitive, and getting out to sell them and everything else, it was quite a job. So I decided -- well, what happened was actually while I was out doing all my things at the time, I left. I was still part owner, but I left to do my motels and everything else with it, and they did get in trouble financially. And I went in and helped them straighten it out again, and when we straightened it out. That's when I told them we're selling the business, and so that's what we did. So we sold it in good graces [unintelligible - 00:38:47]. LINDA: So did any of your sons -- well, you have one son, but you must have some nephews. They didn't want to take over the business? BABE: We tried and it didn't work out. My son actually went to college and so forth, so he didn't fit into that. Then my -- there weren't too many boys in the family [unintelligible - 00:39:12], and Red had two boys, and one didn't want nothing to do with it all, and the other tried and he didn't like it. So it really was limited as to who could run it after that. LINDA: Now, did you sell the blocks locally or out of state, too? BABE: Well, out of state, New Hampshire, we sell New Hampshire. And we made a special block that we did one delivery in New York City with a special block, but we also had -- my brother had invented a new face for the blocks, and the -- it was a glazed block, and we did manufacture them, 19 and there are three school in Leominster have them. The Army has it in Leominster, and we sold a school in Gill, Mass. and [unintelligible - 00:40:07] and in Worcester, so that we did do quite well with that glazed block, which did very, very good. But like I say, age probably got that business why we finally sold it. LINDA: So the blocks though were they pretty standard size? BABE: They were all standard. LINDA: And then it only changed when your brother invented the glaze? BABE: Well, they were a standard block; it was just something added to it. LINDA: Added. Did he patent that invention? BABE: We worked on patenting it, but surprisingly when you patent something, there's always something close to it. In other words they did a whole lot of research on it and we didn't think it was patentable at the end, because the concrete goes way back year and years and years, and there's always somebody that did something close to it that you -- it just wasn't patentable. LINDA: So how did he develop the glaze? Do you know? BABE: Just working at it. In other words he just -- that was Joe, and Joe was the one in the family that was probably ahead on thinking of doing things and so forth. He was the one that always experimented, in other words, come up with ideas of doing special things. LINDA: So during the time as you're part owner of this company, you did other things. Can you explain? BABE: Did he do other things? LINDA: Yes. BABE: Yes, I did all those things that you wrote down in the book there. There were a few of them. LINDA: Yeah, I know. But could you explain some of them? BABE: Okay. What do you want me to start off? Which one, the first one, the ice cream place? 20 LINDA: Is that the first one that you started? BABE: Maybe I had a little of father in me that you do different things, you know. I went to an auction, and they had an ice cream machine, a brand new one, at the auction for sale, and I bought it for $1,000. And before I left, the salesman that sold it from the Mills Company came there and he found out that I bought it, and he offered me $1,500 for it. The minute he said that I immediately said if this thing is worth $1,500 to the salesman, I'm going to see what this machine will do. And I built an ice cream place around it. That was the beginning of Babe's Ice Cream at the time. LINDA: And where was that located? BABE: On Route 12. LINDA: Route 12. BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:42:44] started that, which is very interesting. We were going to open up on July 4th, and this was in 1950. On July 2nd it was one of those hot, miserable days, miserable, real miserable, [unintelligible - 00:42:56]. And this busload pulls in. There was 38 people on the bus, and one came out. They were monks from Rhode Island of the Vow of Silence, and one came in and he said could he please have 38 glasses of water. So my wife and I packed up 38 sandwiches, 38 ice creams, 38 cold drinks, and the bus leaves. And as the bus is going out of the circular driveway, there's a bus leaving, people just funneled in. And of course I knew most of them, and they said, "Babe, how can you be so lucky that you aren't even open and you get them by the busload?" not knowing what happened. And I said I hope I don't get too many busloads, I don't want to close before I get -- so that's how we started that there. But it growed real fast after that, just kept on growing and growing and growing. It meant nothing to sell a thousand ice cream cones on a Sunday afternoon. LINDA: So you knew nothing about ice cream? 21 BABE: I knew nothing about ice cream. I knew nothing about motels, and I built a motel and ran that. I bought another motel and ran that. But the -- I didn't know anything about subdivisions, but I did that. I think a lot of my father's in me. In other words, you just keep going. As long as you do what's right, work hard, you accomplish it. In other words I won't take no for an answer when it comes to trying to do business. Because I've had people, when I went into the [unintelligible - 00:44:41] and doing hardware, I didn't mention that one. When we were doing hardware, in other words it was on the wholesale level to sell to contractors. I did that, and that was very, very difficult because they felt that I should have went to school, you know, because you got to know what hardware's proper for certain jobs. You've got to know your fire codes and so forth. And a lot of people in the beginning wouldn't sell me. They said in other words we don't want to sell to you, you do things wrong and it could come back to us. So I made it clear to them if I got to go from here to California I'm going into the business and I'm going to buy the stuff. You're either going to sell it to me or somebody else is going to sell it to me. And what that did, I got them, built up that business, which was real good. So I just did it. I think maybe I was just blind. I just went into some of these things. We got kind of carried away. We're supposed to be talking on the Italian Colony, aren't we? ROSA: This is all part of that. LINDA: This is all part of it. But as far as getting the ice cream machine and maybe the motel, were you just in the right place at the right time? Just kind of… BABE: That's probably the story of my life, yeah. I think that -- I really believe the gift of the seventh son really played a part on me. Because everything always works out. 22 LINDA: So would you like to tell us a little more about Lincoln Terrace? You're the first person I've interviewed, I'm thinking, isn't it true that grew up on Lincoln Terrace? BABE: You read this book? LINDA: I've looked at it. I haven't finished it. BABE: You haven't finished it? LINDA: No. BABE: Our family's mentioned in that quite a few times. But first of all he just about hit it on the way it was, you know. It was close-knit, Lincoln Terrace, and it was different than what today is. If you did something wrong and somebody scolded you and you went back and told your parents that the neighbor or whoever it was did this to you, you would get a call down again from him. It isn't that knock at the door saying what -- like today, you got assault and battery like that. In other words, they all watched one another. It was really a family unit up there. So you couldn't do anything wrong, and if anybody came on the street that wasn't part of the street, everybody knew about it and they watched them. So it was quite a neighborhood, it really was. And like I say, we enjoyed the -- now, the early part of it is I can look the -- they all had gardens the way they all had pigs in the back of the house, and when the fall of the year come they would all slaughter and they'd all help one another. I got that on film by the way, 8 mm. LINDA: What, the slaughtering the pigs? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Oh, that's interesting. Now, was there a smokehouse? BABE: No. They did things themselves. They take the hams and they make the prosciutto out of those. You know how they do that? LINDA: Nuh-uh. BABE: Actually, they take the hind of the pig, and they really salt it and pepper it, all that it will take, and then they put it in most cases in the cellar up 23 against some beam or another beam, and then with a hydraulic jack or whatever kind of a jack, they keep squeezing it until the ham starts this big until it [unintelligible - 00:48:37] that big, but the salt and the pepper is actually curing it out. You heard of that, did you? No? So they did that. They made the meat, they made the sausages. Very few people used to cook the blood. We never did that, but a few of them did and make the… use that. But the whole pork chops, the whole thing, they saved every bit of it. LINDA: Now, did most people have a pig? BABE: In Lincoln Terrace they did. LINDA: They did. BABE: Yep, in those days. LINDA: So they'd all get together on one day and … BABE: They always worked together. Helped one another do things. LINDA: Was that day called something in particular? BABE: No. LINDA: No. BABE: No, and then like the -- I got a large grapevine. See, the whole hill did [unintelligible - 00:49:37] grape used to make his own wine. Then they all had big gardens. And another thing the Italian women up on Lincoln Terrace, on tomato time they would actually make tomato paste. I don't know if you ever saw that. They would have all these boards of pine nice and clean, they spread all the tomato on it, and then put one of those nets on it that they used to cover babies in a carriage to keep the flies out and so forth. And just by working that they made their own tomato paste. And they'd do all different things like that, you know, which they don't do today. It's easier to go to the store today and buy it. 24 LINDA: So when they slaughtered the pig and they made the prosciutto and et cetera… BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:50:24]. LINDA: When they slaughtered the pig, how did they store the -- how did they store what they had made? BABE: Mostly in the cellar. The meats [unintelligible - 00:50:34] like they'd make the sausage and they'd hang them up to dry. They had them covered and they'd hang them up to dry, and they would dry until they dried out with the [unintelligible - 00:50:45] it was all ice boxes what they had then, you know. But they'd have a place in the cellar which was damp enough or so forth that would last -- none of it wasted; they certainly ate it all before anything got to be wasted. LINDA: Was there any trading between families? BABE: I wouldn't say so, no. They had it all. They would give it to somebody like that, but there wouldn't be any trading. If somebody needed something, they would give it to them. LINDA: For some reason I can't remember what you call this, but when you dig out, let's say, a little hill when you keep food in it, what is that called? BABE: They didn't do that. They had it all in the cellar. ROSA: They just used the cellar cold. They can't do it today -- you can't do it today with the heat in the houses, but in those days the cellars were damp and cold sausages could be strung up in the rafters. And prosciutto. They made their sausages with the tubing, I remember seeing them. LINDA: Was that a long process, making the sausage? BABE: Well you got a 300-pound pig; you got a little work to do. You've got quite a bit of meat there to… ROSA: They'd grind it … LINDA: Now, was that woman's work, men's work? BABE: Oh, they all worked. The women did the cooking. They did a lot of that there, and the women probably -- some of the women would put the 25 [rosin] in the hot water to clean the hair of the animals. Hot water and rosin [unintelligible - 00:52:29] take the hair all off. LINDA: Was the skin used for anything? BABE: Yeah, they cooked that up. ROSA: Salt pork. BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So that's really what salt pork is? BABE: There was no waste. Probably threw the hoof away, didn't use that. ROSA: The head. LINDA: Did they throw the head away, or did they use part of it? BABE: Some people ate the head. Yeah some did. We didn't. ROSA: The ears, too. BABE: They all had chickens. LINDA: [Unintelligible - 00:53:05] throw the head away! BABE: And they all had chickens. In fact, my mother had her own little hobby [unintelligible - 00:53:11] times she had chickens and the eggs, and you know, feed the family, and if there's any eggs over she would sell them to the neighbor. So she would do that. My mother never learned to speak English too well even though she did the answering for my father, but it was -- my father could interpret what she would say even though she was saying it wrong. Like there was a company called Bowen and Fuller in Leominster, and my father always said this to people that they called my mother and have your husband come, we've got some deliveries to make, and she asked what company they said Bowen and Fuller. She said "Damn Fool?" He said no, Bowen and Fuller. She asked two or three times and yes. So my father came home, and she said, "Damn Fool wants you to pick up." So he knew them when he went there. The guy says, [unintelligible - 00:54:09] your message and the guy says yes. But they did understand one another. Of course the guy knew that she wasn't doing it to insult him 26 or anything. She didn't know any different on that. But she never learned the -- very, very little English. My father, working with the French people, he learned to speak French, and he learned the English right away, and of course he had the Italian. LINDA: Well, what about you and your brothers and sisters? Did you speak Italian? BABE: We understood it and so forth. They can speak it, but very [unintelligible - 00:54:50], and I can understand quite a bit what happens. Incidentally the three oldest children went to a French school at that time, and they learned French also. LINDA: What school? St. Cecelia's? BABE: St. Cecelia's, yeah. They went three years and then the French people needed a school for themselves and they transferred to St. [unintelligible - 00:55:14] school. LINDA: Now, I heard some people tell me that they weren't allowed to speak Italian in their homes after they learned English at school. Was that true for your family? BABE: Nope. No, we always spoke it. But my wife now, when she came over -- she came from Italy, and I didn't -- and when she came home with the school -- she's not from here, she's from Pennsylvania. But she refused to learn English until the teachers got -- one friendly teacher, "But why don't you want to learn?" She says, "I won't be able to speak to my mother and father then." She thought she'd lose the English. And after that day she made all kinds of honors in school. So she -- but in our house, now, my children, two of them they didn't speak -- we never spoke in Italian, but -- so we [unintelligible - 00:56:12] secret family thing when you're in front of the children, we'd speak Italian, my wife and I, not to be heard, but that's all done now because my daughter went out and became a professor of Italian history, so that brought us out. We can't even… 27 LINDA: So was it important for your family, your father and mother, for their children to assimilate, to become more American? BABE: We never discussed that. I don't think that ever came a thing -- you do the best you can do. That was about the biggest teaching that my father ever gave. Do the best you can do, stay out of trouble. And the other thing he always was a stickler for was he said you always respect authority. He said if someone does something wrong you respect it, you do it when you come home, you tell me about it, and I will take care of it. Of course it was just [unintelligible - 00:57:06] he never did anything everything after it, but meanwhile he kept peace in the family. LINDA: So he didn't want you to confront an adult; he would. BABE: Nope, and you know, in most cases you don't win with authority. You listen to it, and that's it. LINDA: So tell me about your mother. What was she like? BABE: My mother was strictly a loving for her children. She'd do anything for us. To quote my wife, which we shouldn't put on tape… LINDA: You don't want to? BABE: No, I'll tell you what my wife says about my mother. If it's not on tape. LINDA: If it's not on tape, okay. BABE: One of the things that happened though before [unintelligible - 00:57:56] we got married, my wife would go with my sister shopping and so forth. And in our house everybody -- they're all married now, but everybody would end up at the kitchen table at nighttime after the day's work, and my mother would -- you know, there was just the two of them, my mother and father at home, but there was always two or three pounds of spaghetti made, and we'd all eat there and then go home and say we're not hungry. But there was this one day we're there and my wife and my sister went shopping. They were late when they came in, so my brother-in-law and I said so let's have some fun. So the minute they came in, I says "Tina, where have you been? You know I worked all hard all day. I come home 28 and I want to eat." And so she says, "Well, we shopped." And my mother spoke up, she says, "That's not right. You got to feed your husband when he comes…" Well, then my brother-in-law to my sister says the same thing, you know. And my mother spoke up, and maybe she had something important to do. Same conversation. So -– but she was [unintelligible - 00:59:07] she was sick for a while. She had lost one eye too, and so for a while she was a -- but she could find -- after that she could find things that we couldn't, with that one eye. We would lose something and she would find it, even a pin or something like that, but… LINDA: Did she come from -- she came from Italy but differently than your father? I mean … BABE: Three years later. 1909 she came. LINDA: Did she come directly to Leominster? BABE: Well, she landed in Boston. Now, how she got there from Italy I don't have any information on that. LINDA: Do you know how your parents met each other? BABE: Probably out in the farm someplace, I would guess, because that's all they did; they were farmers. Even the woman worked the farms out there and so forth. So, a lot of them out there worked in [unintelligible - 01:00:03] actually who worked for the people that owned the land. LINDA: Where? BABE: In Italy. LINDA: Oh, they knew each other in Italy? BABE: Oh yeah. LINDA: Oh. 29 BABE: When she came here she -- well, that picture there shows her when she came in 19 -- with her children there, that's the picture when she came in 1909. LINDA: Okay. BABE: One of those. LINDA: Okay, so they knew each other in Italy? BABE: Yeah, they got married in Italy. They got married in Italy. LINDA: Then came here separately. BABE: Yes. LINDA: Not at the same time? BABE: No. LINDA: Okay, I didn't understand that. Did they have children [unintelligible - 01:00:45]? BABE: Yeah, yeah. This one here it was 1910 when she came. There was three of them. There was the three. They would be 1, 2, 3 that she came back with. Of course she came here in 1909, 1910 there was another one added at that time. LINDA: So your father came without the family first and then brought them over? BABE: They all did that. They all boarded. If you will look at the directory, they all, the Italians all boarded someplace. They -- none of them had their own home or anything like that in the beginning, so their wives came over and then they would find a place. LINDA: So growing up and you're working with your father, did you work six days a week? BABE: Sometimes seven. Not too often, but sometimes we'd have things to do and we'd do it. So in other words you have to realize when I got to the working age, I was in the Depression, actually. So you took it as you could get it as far as work is concerned. LINDA: Did you work out during the daylight hours? 30 BABE: Oh yeah. We generally got home [unintelligible - 01:02:06] unless there was an emergency job you stayed later. We'd get home about five, five thirty from a job, start at eight o'clock in the morning. LINDA: And then you would eat dinner with your parents? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: And who made the dinner? BABE: My mother. LINDA: What about your sisters? BABE: They were married by that time. Don't forget, they were completely -- they were much older than I was, so they were -- by the time that I started eating, you know, they were married. LINDA: So tell me what kind of things you ate. The types of things your mother made. BABE: All the good things that I like. LINDA: Which is what? BABE: She made spaghetti, pasta [la jour], even polenta. I know you know what that is. LINDA: Mm-hmm. BABE: In those days that was a poor man's meal. Today you go in restaurants you pay a fancy price for it. LINDA: I should have said no, I don't know what it is so you can explain to us on tape. I'll have to get that sometime. So what's polenta? BABE: Lentils, I like lentils. She used to make that, different soups. I'm sorry, what did you say? LINDA: What's polenta? What is it? BABE: Corn -- mush is what it is, actually. LINDA: How would she serve that? BABE: We'd put it on the board, on the table, you spread it all over a board, and then what we'd do, the fun we'd have is try to decide what we're going to carve, and everybody would just carve whatever shape we wanted. And another thing she'd do too at times would be so we would eat all of it, 31 she'd put meat in the middle, and you had to work your way. If you didn't work your way you wouldn't get to the meat. You know, whether it was a meatball a piece of pork chop something like that. LINDA: So it was kind of polite eating. You eat from the outside in? You don't just dig in. BABE: No, no you have to work your way in, clean the road as you go. But on holidays, surprisingly, my father would do the cooking. I know on Easter especially he would make the ham and fix it all up and put the garlic in it and so forth. He always did that. LINDA: Now, during the Depression, did you eat meat at all, or was that really a luxury? BABE: It was a luxury. LINDA: Were different foods prepared on a Sunday compared to the rest of the week? BABE: Yes, Sunday you would have a bigger meal. And during the height of the Depression, we'd probably get oranges at Christmastime, maybe a banana at Christmastime. The rest of the year you didn't need it, so you didn't get it. LINDA: Do you want to go back to your jobs then? BABE: My jobs? LINDA: Yeah, jobs. BABE: Such as? LINDA: Or your companies or your interests. Like the motels. How did you get involved in the motels? BABE: Well, we went out to get some materials. It was in New Jersey, picking up some pallets for the block plant at that time, and it was next door to a motel, the pallets and so forth, and I started talking to the fellow and so forth. And [unintelligible - 01:05:44] the business, and now I had the ice cream place, I had the tourist stopping, so the brain just clicked in it would be nice to have a motel in Leominster. We had none. That was the first one. So that's what I did. I built a motel. 32 LINDA: Where did you build it? BABE: On Route 12 right next to my ice cream place. So that -- I didn't have any money at that time, so that was a problem. I went to the bank, it was the first bank I went to, told them I wanted $25,000, to borrow $25,000, said what are you going to do and I explained. They said you can't do that for that price. I said oh yes, I can I buy all my materials wholesale, and I do all the work myself. And he said well, in that case you have to give me a list of what it's going to cost you because I can only loan you 80 percent of what you're going to pay. So my answer to him was you really don't want me to build the motel, do you? But I fought it. Like I say, I made up my mind I was going to fight it and I did, so I just kept going and we built it. LINDA: So did you end up borrowing the money from a bank? BABE: Oh yeah, I got money from a bank—not that bank though, another bank. But then I started with eight rooms and built another eight and built another eight, and then four more on that same site, and so that worked out good. That was a good business. LINDA: And you kept the ice cream business in addition? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So who ran the motel? BABE: Hmm? LINDA: Who ran the motel? BABE: I did. There was nobody else to run it. My wife was busy with the children at that time. LINDA: I thought there were only 24 hours in a day! That's why I'm asking. BABE: Well, I still slept three hours. You get up in the morning at eight o'clock. About eight we'd go have some breakfast and then close about two o'clock. Three nights a week I'd make ice cream until about three or four o'clock in the morning. Then with the motel beside it, you get -- break up during the night, people checking in late, so that was the schedule for a number of years. 33 LINDA: Where were you living at this time? BABE: We built a house in back of the motel and ice cream place. LINDA: Okay. So did you advertise for the motel? BABE: Yeah, we did advertise on that. LINDA: So who was staying in the motel, people visiting? BABE: We had -- mostly it was a commercial motel and we had mostly salesmen, engineers, buyers. It was all very good class of business that we had, and tourists and so forth, but we had quite a reputation that we even had quite a few of the national companies that if they were within 50 miles of our place such as Gates Rubber from Colorado, Singer Sewing Machine, if any of their people were within 50 miles of our motel, we had direct billing with them, they'd stop with us. But we made it very, very comfortable for them, because we learned very early that a salesman or an engineer or anybody that's traveling alone is the most lonesome guy in the world. So the thing that we would do is if a guy comes in and he could be with the plastic industry, he's alone, somebody else we know is in the motel in the plastic business he's alone, we have them meet one another. They'd go out and from then on they'd come back, because they knew that it was always -- they were going to meet somebody there instead of just sitting in a room all night long. And we built up a wonderful business that way. In fact, even -- we had a regular customer of ours once got in an automobile accident, and he couldn't go back home and we were full, and we asked [unintelligible - 01:09:51] two people of other customers that one of our customers was in an accident and can't go home, would you mind packing up and leaving? They did. LINDA: Wow. BABE: You know, which is so unusual. We explained what it was, but even that was a family affair that they would. It was a lot of fun. We had a lot of 34 fun doing that. One of the regulars that came in would we would always be pulling jokes, stuff like -- one time he brought somebody in and my wife was in Florida with her mother at the time, so I don't know what made me do it, but this guy was saying I've got to meet your wife, I hear so much about it from the other guys. So I said, yeah, but you know, when you talk to her she's hard of hearing, so then I pick up my wife and I said this wonderful guy from Chicago is in room 9. Wonderful guy. He was doing management surveys for the [unintelligible - 01:10:58] on Adams Street. So I told Tina he's hard of hearing. So now when they come in, they're all there, because they always -- we had a lawn area that we sit at, and so I said, Tina there's the guy, so, "How are you," and they're hollering like two idiots back and forth, and everybody starts laughing. But it was good for a joke. But they all accepted it as such, and that's it. Now, the one I got to say on the ice cream place now, I'm going to take a [unintelligible - 01:11:30] had his favorite place. I gave ice cream to every church in Leominster but my own. We'll have to continue. LINDA: We were talking about you had a story about churches and giving ice cream. BABE: Yes, I gave ice cream to every church in Leominster but St. Anne's, my church. Because what would happen, even the synagogues, the Jewish would call up and they want ice cream, how much is it. And I'd say $5 a tub. When I'd bring it up I'd give them a receipted bill. My own people, when they'd call, they'd say, "Oh, we can buy it for $4.50," so I never had the opportunity to give it to them, right? LINDA: Really? BABE: That was in six years I think I gave to every church in Leominster but my own. Now, I never told them I was going to give it to them for nothing. They asked me what the price was. The price was $5 a tub. So I guess that's all right. We all still made it. 35 LINDA: How long did you keep the ice cream? BABE: From 1950 to 1958. LINDA: And what about the motel? BABE: Motel, sold that in '64. LINDA: You had two didn't you? BABE: Yep, sold the other one about the same time. The other one I bought. I didn't build the other one. LINDA: And what was that, West… BABE: West [unintelligible - 01:12:59] Motel. LINDA: Is that the one that's across from -- well, it's Sam's now -- I mean, not Sam's, Walmart. Is that the one? BABE: No, it's up further. It's at the junction of 110 and 12. LINDA: All right. So again, give me an idea of what a day was like for you when you owned both the ice cream shop and the motel. BABE: Hectic. Get up in the morning, help out at the place… you know, noon time was busy there and so forth. And then at night start checking in people at the motel, then come back and make the ice cream. Like I said, I did all my building in the wintertime, too. [Unintelligible - 01:13:48] like I built the motel myself, I did that all. And the other thing we did during that time again was one summer, which was really -- my wife got me involved, and we built -- with the people of Leominster now, they're very generous; we built a swimming pool for the Nazareth Home for Boys. So I'm the owner, I'm doing the blocks, and I'm doing all the rebuilding of it. And people always like to have fun, and I had fellows working for me, a police officer mowing my lawn at the motel and stuff. And I know that the day I laid blocks I was just about dead, and I come home and [unintelligible - 01:14:35] is really doing good you hired people to do work for you, you're getting lazy. 36 But that was all, it was a lot of work, just busy, busy. But I enjoyed it. I think someone said one time that work won't kill you, and it didn't. LINDA: It sounds like your wife was supportive. Very supportive. BABE: Yeah, she is. She did. She had to take care of the children, and she also, at the same time, she was taking care of her sister's. She was one of the waitress I had. She had to waitress, she took care of their two children too, then at night she would come up and help with serving customers. Although she was a troublemaker. She's the one that liked to joke with the customers. For example, we used to have -- a new product came out, the ketchup that you squeeze it, the pump it, they called it. On Saturday night we'd get those big gang of dancers come in, dress suits, ties. So this one guy was trying to get the ketchup on and it wouldn't work on a hamburger. We said, "Tina, why don't you throw these away? They don't work." So she says, "You don't mind if I squeeze it at you?" "Go ahead," he says, so of course, ketchup all the way down his face. She never worked on Saturdays, but one Saturday she's working and one of our good customers from Connecticut would come by every Saturday with his wife and family going to New Hampshire camping. I'm outside talking to the guys and he came out and said, "You know, I don't know who that new waitress you got, but you better fire her or you won't have no customers left." I said, "Which one?" I said, "I can't fire her, she owns it!" But it was always funny, and I think that's what kept it going. It wasn't -- we enjoyed it, and that's probably what kept us going. We didn't look at it as a job or as work. We looked at it as something to do, and we were happy while we did it. LINDA: Did you have many employees? 37 BABE: Well, probably on the weekends was the most. It was probably about eight or nine of us on a weekend working. LINDA: Working at the ice cream shop, or… BABE: As far as the motel, it only required -- two girls would work just in the morning. That was separate girls, you know. A few hours they would have the rooms all ready. Then my children, we had the miniature golf. LINDA: Oh, that's right did. You built the miniature golf next to the ice cream shop? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Now, where did you get that idea? BABE: I saw one, and I thought it would be nice to have, so I built one. LINDA: So, again, would that be the first miniature golf place in Leominster? BABE: No, there had been one for years and years up on North Main Street behind the bowling alleys. The motel was the first one in Leominster. LINDA: Well, then tell me about building the miniature golf. You actually designed it and built it? BABE: No, I didn't design it. The people I bought the equipment from did the designing of it. But I built it, I put it in there. Everything was designed by them, and I bought all the fixtures and so forth from them. LINDA: And then your children worked there? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So how did you and your wife feel about education for your children? BABE: We felt tops for education. We probably made a couple of mistakes educating our children. To be very honest, I think St. Ann's, my son went there, and I think that was a mistake because there was [unintelligible - 01:18:44] 60 kids in the first grade. And had he went to where I went to school, they had 11 children. It would have been almost like a private tutoring. So what we did with him to pick up, we sent him to Julie Country Day afterwards, which is a private school, and from there he went to Worcester Academy. LINDA: I guess I'm interested to know how something like that happens. 38 BABE: Like what? LINDA: Like that you went to the 9th grade, you said, and your father is an immigrant who came over here to work so hard, and you know, he may not have had much schooling, and then all of a sudden your son is going to Worcester Academy. BABE: Because I wanted him to go there. LINDA: Because you wanted him… BABE: Oh yeah. LINDA: And why did you want him… BABE: In fact, [unintelligible - 01:19:34] when people ask me what I did I say I'm a bum. And of course my son must have heard me two or three times and, I know when he was ready to go to college, he said, "Dad, I don't want to go to college. I want to be a bum." I said, "You're going to be an educated bum." And he went to college, which he did very, very good [unintelligible - 01:19:51]. But no, we felt that the he lacked the basic knowledge at the very beginning. /AT/pa/mlb/es

Transcript of an oral history interview with Theodore A. "Ted" Arcidi conducted by Sarah Yahm at the interviewee's business in Manchester, New Hampshire, on 11 March 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Ted Arcidi is a member of the Norwich University Class of 1982 and a former professional wrestler, actor and power lifter. His interview includes discussion of both his career and his experiences as an athlete and a student attending Norwich University. ; 1 Theodore A. "Ted" Arcidi NU 1982, Oral History Interview March 11, 2015 At interviewee's business in Manchester, NH Interviewed by Sarah Yahm Transcribed by C.T. Haywood, NU '12, April 4, 2015 SY: Whenever you're ready we can let the games begin. TA: Alright, shoot. SY: So can you introduce yourself for the mic. TA: Ted Arcidi, graduate of Norwich in '82. SY: Excellent, and we're here at your business in Manchester, New Hampshire. What's the name of your business? TA: Building and business. I developed this building. It's a mill building, an older building and I also have my business here, Weightlifters Warehouse where we sell fitness equipment. SY: Excellent, can I borrow a pen? Interview pauses SY: Okay, so the thing with oral history is we get to start out early. So where were you born? And when you were a kid what did you want to be when you grew up? TA: A Norwich grad [said in joking tone]—hold on I'll get there SY: Okay, okay. TA: I was born in, I was born in Buffalo, New York and what did I want to aspire to? I didn't even know until like high school. I wanted to be a pro hockey player because I was I was really good in hockey and I played it, you know, religiously – practiced, practiced, practiced, practiced. I think I got my work ethic from my parents. I mean I'd be on the pond skating when—I went to private school so it was great I'd be skating by myself just doing drills, shooting drills, things like that for hours. Stick handling. I was a defenseman but I was small. I didn't really grow until like college, you know, late bloomer. And during that time I got into weight training and I just I just caught the bug you know. I was red shirting for Norwich. I was playing hockey at Salem State. I was in the JV's over there. They brought me up a couple of times to the varsity but I still needed some more work so I just started lifting weights and doing my cardio, doing my running and when I went to Norwich I had to red shirt because when you transfer you have to you know sit out a year. And that's when I just started lifting even more and more and making like I said those five pound gains on the bench every week. SY So [coughs] what did you like about it? TA: I loved it because I could just see my body changing and getting stronger. And maybe helped out my self-esteem too you know because I was kind of scrawny. I was wiry, I was strong. All's I used to do before was push-ups, sit ups, a lot of calisthenics, which are good which I find out are really advantageous to weight lifting because all those years that I was doing that I was, my tendons were getting stronger and my ligaments. I was getting a good base core. 2 SY: Yeah. So I'm just, going back to you, you at like five years old or ten years old how would you felt at that moment… TA: If I knew what was gonna happen? SY: Yeah when you got the title, "strongest man in the world!" TA: Oh it would be, I wouldn't believe it, they would have the wrong guy. It wasn't even in my wheelhouse, wasn't even in my radar. It was like, yeah I mean it was just like reserved for people that were born big or maybe they were just lived on farms or something I don't know. But I, but I never had that type of diligence then. And it wasn't a popular sport you know, so. I mean you'd watch it on TV and stuff the people, you know the big Russians and stuff concentrating and stuff, but that's as far as it went as far as like you know inquiring about that. SY: And did it drive you crazy that you were small? TA: I knew I was gonna grow. But I didn't, I didn't like any kid especially when it comes to sports you know you want to have some size because you're competing against other people especially in a sport like hockey. I did a lot of baseball, basketball, you know, recreational stuff. Little league. I didn't get much past that. Then I just concentrated on hockey like in the sixth/seventh grade. Started with the recreation then went to youth hockey and then high school hockey. That's the Bobby Orrick era, you know, that was big. Everybody did, everybody played street hockey all day. I mean that's a difference today, kids don't do that. They're not outside. They're like on their, you know their iPhones and stuff. They're missing a beautiful segment of their life, you know. SY: I know it's true. You're preaching to the choir on that one. Okay so you were at Salem State for a while and then how'd you end up at Norwich? TA: I flunked out [laughs]. I almost flunked out. I was there and I didn't have a real good first semester and I was bouncing on the side. This is, this is when I started lifting weights and you know yeah you wanna work your loins, you wanna get the benefits, you know? Because I'd never, I'm thinking, "Wow," you know, I could actually go to bars and hang out with the guys and stuff. It was like a whole new identity, you know. So like anyone else that gets anatomically more fit and more muscular you, you're young, God, you know, and so I worked at a bar, and a place called Face's in Salem. It was like a bikey bar and the homework, and I was like still training to play hockey but the homework just, I just wasn't doing it, you know. And I got like a 0.0 average [laughs]. SY: That's impressive. TA: Yeah, yeah. And then I had the talk with the dad and he says ah, he knew I need direction, he didn't even know I worked there. But I thought it was cool, you know, because I'm making money off my physique, so. So what I did was, we had the talk, he says, "You know, you got to improve. And you improve, we're gonna send you to another school, send you to Norwich." Because he went to Norwich himself. SY: Oh he did, so is he a military guy? TA: Yeah, he didn't graduate. He ended up transferring to UVM, but he did a freshmen year there. But he knew about it. He had friends there and stuff. SY: And did he think you needed the military discipline? 3 TA: I needed, yeah, to just get more focused. And I did like it. I did the tour up there in senior year, but I wasn't ready for it. And then now I was, you know, at the time. So I had to really bust my ass and really do well in school that second semester or else if I didn't get my grade average up to like B, which I knew I could do, I was gonna be working like a regular job. He says, "You're out of your house. I'm not gonna support, and you've obviously made a choice, go work in the real world." Which, he was a thousand percent right. SY: So you were like, "Okay I'm gonna be a bouncer forever or I'm gonna get my shit together." TA: Or work construction or something else, you know, or go try to play junior hockey in Canada which I wasn't good enough to play major junior A. So I really focused on—and that was a time when I was starting to lift and I'm thinking, "You know I'm just gonna see where lifting takes me," you know. Because I read about body building and lifting and power lifting and stuff, but I never entered any contests or anything. So I got my grade cume up and it worked out well. I gutted it out and I ended up getting enough credits and a good cume to get into Norwich. SY: As a? TA: As a sophomore. SY: As a sophomore. So you didn't have to do Rook Week? You didn't have to—? TA: Oh yeah I still had to do that. I got Recognized a little earlier than the other guys but I still had to do that, get in there in August and stuff, you know. SY: So what was that like? TA: That wasn't bad. I wish they'd fed me more. I was so hungry. They didn't give me enough food, because I was lifting. Everybody thought I was a football player. Now the football players got to eat more because they were athletes but it's like, "Come on man, I'm a weight lifter, you know, I lift more than these guys do. Cut me some slack." I almost left the school. SY: Because you were just hungry? TA: I was starving. You only get a serving and stuff. And that all changed, yeah, because most of those football players and athletes were on work study, they had the waiter coats back then and they could eat as much as they want. I mean I'm paying the same tuition as these guys, these guys are in there for nothing, and they're eating better than me. This is outrageous. So I almost left the school. SY: So what did you do? Did you complain? TAL Yeah, yeah I complained and the and the straw broke the camel's back, when I was there for six months – I had already gotten Recognized - and I was going in for a late mess hall and I grabbed some eggs, you know, boiled eggs. And the head football coach - and I don't mind saying it now [laughs] but he was a real jerk, Barry Mynter, he grabbed my wrist and he said, "Put the eggs back." And I go, "No, I'm gonna eat." "Well it's only football players." "Well I'm an athlete too and people come in late and why are you doing this to me?", so. I went right to the president. SY: Who was it then? TA: Loring Hart, yeah. SY: And what did he say? 4 TA: I said, "You know I'm a lifter." And I think I started competing and, "I need the calories and I need the protein and I'm, you know even if I wasn't a competing athlete, for the money I should be able to eat more." So he signed a thing, a requisition, that I can get two steaks or two servings of whatever the meat was then, you know. And I thought it was so stupid it's like, man what about these other kids that didn't complain. That was a problem and I brought it up to them and I think things changed after that. You don't deprive people that are, you know, working their ass off in a school and these guys are paying top dollar and stuff. They might not be athletes but you don't do that to people. So anyway ah… SY: So you won that battle? TA: Yeah, yeah, and I wasn't trying to win or like get a scho—I just wanted to eat, you know, and then immediately it was fine, it was no big deal. SY: And if you were lifting that much you must have just been ravenous? TA: Yeah then I would have to get food from my house on weekends and stuff or go down to Lemory's at the time was there, I used to buy roast beef and stuff because they didn't feed you, they didn't feed you enough. And now it's different, I think you get to eat as much as you want right, probably? So I'm glad. Yeah I had it out with him too, that guy Mynter, he was a real horse's ass and I'll him to this day, man, look what you gave up [laughs]. Now I'm glad I did it for the other people though, there was a lot of lifters, because lifting was big, and they could only eat like one meal. This is insane, this is totally insane, so…. SY: Did you end up getting, so you got to eat to more, but did your lifting friends? TA: Yeah they started too. I said, "Tell them you're gonna leave. This is bullshit." You don't mind if I? SY: No of course I don't mind. That's fine. So I wonder if -- I also can picture you, you're this big guy at this point and you're in the Corps… TA: I was bigger than most of these football players. I mean I wasn't as tall but you know I could blow them away. And maybe there was some animosity there with them too. I mean they liked me and a couple of guys did help me lift and stuff in the old Armory. Jimmy Pavao who was a football player, he helped me out, real good guy. Arty and his brother, their last name was Stringfellow, they helped me out. And there was another kid I don't want to forget - um, what was his name? [pause]. I'll think of it. He helped me when, when we moved the weight system. We had the new complex which wasn't new now but it was in '81, the new place that I was lifting there, and he helped me a lot this other kid. I'll, I'll get his name. SY: Yeah, you'll remember it. So I'm trying to imagine it. Here you are, you're a year older than the other freshman. The cadre are, because you're a sophomore, the cadre are like doing their Rook thing and you're big, right? TA: Well I started getting some size. Everybody thought I was a full-back. I was still benching around 400 then, 420. SY: So did they mess with you less the cadre? TA: Uh they kind of picked on me a couple of times and stuff, I guess the whole breaking thing. You play the game, you know. I mean and I didn't want to get any different treatment, I just wanted to ah, you know I knew I was gonna get Recognized early as an upperclassmen so I was just going through things. Part of the, part of the regiment, because hey I decided to go to a military school and I should, you know, partake in their traditions, you know. Yeah and it's a character builder. It is. 5 SY: And do you feel like it ended up building your character? TA: I think so. I think that and then when I honed in on my skill, my, my ah, my attributes of becoming a competitive weightlifter. I think it just all came together and everybody's thinking you know, "Ted, you know he's representing the school," so that kind of gave me some status there too. But I busted my ass you know, and um… SY: Yeah what was your daily regimen? TA: Ah well I get up, I probably lift about 4 days a week, do my running still too. But when I lifted, I lifted very heavy, very heavy, twice a week, heavy on the upper body and two times a week on the squats. But I knew my forte was the bench because I was just like making five pound gains a week. That was insane. SY: That's insane--and I just can't imagine seeing your body transform that much. TA: Every time I looked in the mirror, and I wasn't on steroids at all you know um… SY: What was that like? TA: Did I take them later? Yeah I took 'em when I was World Class because everybody did, and that's the only way you're gonna compete. I mean these same people if you took 'em off steroids they're still gonna be number one and two in the world because they have genetics and they have built themselves up because of their workout routine and stuff, so that's just how it goes. SY: And that's the pressures of the competitive scene? TA: Well you have to do that especially if you want to make a name for yourself. I mean it opened up the doors to a ton of things, you know, being the best in the world, being the first man to bench press 700 pounds. That was a big thing, that was really big that was in all the, you know, Wide World of Sports and all that stuff. And that was, that was big. SY: So what does it do to your head to see your body changing that much? TA: Yeah getting back between my sophomore and junior year, and senior year every year. I mean I went there and I was benching as a fresh--well as sophomore like 400/420. And then there's a 100 pound gain after that for the next year, and another 100 pound gain after that. And I'm just saying to myself, "I'm not, I better not blow this," you know? Because at one point I was, I was thinking you know I have a shot to be the first man to bench press 700 pounds. I mean that's gonna, that's gonna be earth shattering. No one's ever done it. The world record at the time was 661. You're breaking it by like forty something pounds, that's like Bob Beamon in the long jump. You just blew it away. SY: So you sort of realized you could push the capacity of a human? TA: I knew that I could do 7, I think I had the ability to do 7 my [phone buzzes]. Can you cut for a second, okay? [tape turns off and then on again] SY: So alright, so okay, here's what I keep thinking about. TA: Where was I though? SY: You were talking about realizing you could bench press 7. 6 TA: Oh yeah because I was making these extraordinary gains, still not on the juice. I got up to, people don't believe this but I got up to a 600 pound bench without steroids. No one's ever done that. SY: What made your body able to do that? TA: I think it's good genetics and I was always into taking vitamins back when I was playing hockey. My mother being a nurse, my dad's an orthodontist, she got me on the B vitamins--take 'em every day. And then vitamin C. That was a new thing then but that helped a lot because while you're growing it does decrease your inflammation and makes you recuperate better. But I still think the big thing was I always ate well and I ate smart, you know, because of those two people. And I think the fact that, you know, partaking in sports is important, but even when I was doing sports the calisthenics, I was like insane about it. And I really feel that doing--I used to do dips like an animal, push-ups, chin-ups. And I really feel that that just commenced a great basis for weight training because my tendons were really strong. I, I because I did that for years. I did that for at least three years before I even touched the weight. SY: How many hours a day? TA: Oh not too long. I mean just enough to do my things. I do it like three days a week, but little did I know that was laying out the base. Because some people when they start weight training they ah, they're hitting walls and stuff because they don't have the foundation. I think I built up a foundation just doing a lot of good calisthenics -- clean, full-range of motion, yeah. SY: So when you were lifting then, what would go through your head or were you really not thinking? Was it almost like meditative? There was no…? TA: Oh you mean when I was doing maxes or just working out? SY: Just working out. TA: I loved the feeling of moving big weights. SY: What about it? TA: It's, it's hard to describe, because it feels like another rep. Even if it's one rep. It's not painful, it's just like, you're just putting all your effort into that one push, you know? And then of course you do supplementary exercises. I didn't just do bench pressing, I did a lot of triceps work behind the neck press which I had the world record at one time too. It's an odd lift but it's not really measured, but I did up to 375 for five, standing behind the neck press. SY: So it seems like part of it for you was just sort of like, it was kind of blowing your mind that you were lifting these things. TA: Yeah but I went with it. I went with it and that was what I gonna say. I was, because you know when you're training with heavy weight you gotta warm up. If I get injured, I'm screwed. A lot of guys were pulling pecs because you try too much and I just made sure I warmed up and stuff 'cause now you're getting into no man's land which is scary. And when you get three people spotting you: one in the middle, and one on each side ,when you're going for like reps over 500 pounds, one wrong tweak, you're screwed. You blow a peck, go back to dental school, you know [laughs]. That's where I would have been. And I said that to myself. I know I'm jumping ahead, but before I went out there in front of that crowd, I ah I felt a twinge when I was in the warm-up room and I was thinking, "Well you know something, if it's gonna rip, let it rip out there," you know. But it was just a nerve twinge because the thing went up like butter, it was--the crowd psyches you up you know. So yeah I had to watch myself but 7 I knew I was in no man's land and I made sure, three major things, because I you know, what was great was with school being a phys ed major you're doing so much anatomy and physiology, chemistry, and this was great because I correlated this into my body and it made perfect sense. I got it, you know, where a lot of people don't. And its three major things for weight training: plenty of protein, plenty of sleep, and recuperation. As I was getting heavier and heavier into lifting heavier weight I needed more days to recuperate, so then I was only benching heavier once a week and couldn't do that three days a week, you know, Monday through Friday because you're gonna beat the shit out of your system. You're gonna blow something. So you gotta listen to your body and that, that's what it took too. Because a lot people, there's a lot of decent athletes out there but they over train and then you once pull a peck or separate a shoulder you're out of the running man, you're never the same. SY: And you didn't have a coach or mentor? TA: No, all me, all me. SY: You were your own case study for phys ed? TA: Pretty much, yeah. I mean I was so thankful and I am to this day - um his first name was Scott, you can write that in there, the other kid that helped me out - just to get spotters. Now what was awesome was at the point, even when I was there as a sophomore you go in there and you're putting on weights and people aren't stupid, they're gonna stop and just see what you're doing and then you got a picture, "Okay next year he comes in 100 pounds gain." I would just be a show stopper, people would stop what they're doing and they're very willing to help and stuff too you know and get you psyched up, because you gotta get to that mental frame of mind. You're going for weight that you haven't seen rolled, you know. And I just had the three major components from my muscle groups: I had my pecs, my shoulders, and my tri's those things right there. And I trained them to the max so they had the best rest and the best ah reflex and reaction because speed's involved too, you can't you know you want to get a good explosive burst. And um, yeah and it's always been like a show time thing. SY: Yeah it is a show. TA: Yeah because you start, the whole gym stopped. They're never gonna see that weight again by anybody you know, so even when I was wrestling on the road at Gold's Gym. SY: Did you like it? TA: Yeah, yeah, it was like cool it was like [laughs] you know the clapping, I'm warming up with 400 and they're clapping. When I went do tours on the um, in Europe and stuff, Greece, I was very lucky with my vitamin line and and as a world record holder to do exhibitions. I made a lot of money doing that and I put it back into the company. And they're very cordial out there. They clap all the time. They're very, very nice people. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was pretty cool. It was pretty cool. So yeah, it all, ah. God. SY: Did it go to your head? Here you are you got this young guy, you're stronger that everybody…? TA: Naw I didn't get cocky or nothing. I mean if I got drunk a few times with the guys, you know, it was guy stuff but I wouldn't no. I, I remain grounded because I knew where it got me and it you know everything is a circle, you go around and do something stupid it's gonna come back and get you. I've seen it happen to people in all sports and it just wasn't me. SY: So alright so you finish, you finish Norwich, you've started competing --8 TA: Right, well I was competing already, yeah, but now when I finished Norwich it was, I'm at a World Class level. SY: And meanwhile your dad's like, "Go to dental school." TA: Yeah, and I wanted to go to dental school because he had that speech with me my senior year when I was going up to graduation with my mom. He knew that, and I knew, especially in Concord, Mass where I grew up. First of all they're not gonna pick me as a Phys Ed teacher because they just, it's cronyism, even in public schools, you know. And where the jobs are so few and far between -- I mean you look at a globe it's probably the same way today, you know try to go teach at a decent school system where the money, which was great back then, might be 25 or 30, but you're never gonna get in. You're behind all these people and there's favorites. And then he's thinking, that's the beauty of my dad, he's still around, he was looking towards the future: "How you gonna have a family? You know, how are you gonna? Your wife's gonna have to work, she can't be home with the kids. You know that's gonna be tough." And he just kind of spelled it out for me. And he says, "You got some good sciences, you got a good base, I say take a year and do more prerequisites, and apply to dental school." And I did that while I was still lifting. And I got into Tufts. I did a year of prerequisites at Northeastern. I did some at Middlesex Community College, some other prerequisites. All science. I did that course "Stanley Kaplan for DAT's." I did well on my DAT's. I did average. For a phys ed major that's phenomenal! [laughs] So I ended getting into Tufts, Marquette, and NYU, and Georgetown. SY: Those are really good schools. TA: Yeah, yeah. SY: Look at that from failing out of Salem State. TA: Yeah, yeah. And the interviews and everything -- they knew I was a competitor too and they asked me, "Are you gonna compete?" "Yeah I'm still gonna compete." And I did. But my freshman year at Tufts, it's a very heavy course load you're with the med students, and with my working out it was getting tough because I got invited for the second time to the Hawaiian International Powerlifting Championships. And I couldn't handle both so I had a talk with the dean. I said, "Listen, I got to try this out. I mean I could be on the verge of really setting a big big record here." And they understood because they had some athletes, some kids who played minor ball and stuff, they took a leave of absence and they would come back and that's what I told them. And I told my father that and my father knew off the bat, he goes, "You're not gonna come back," and he was pissed and my mother was upset. But my dad really took it hard, because he was he was part of the Tufts program over there. My sister had gone there, he had done lectures there and I felt like I was letting him down but I said, "I'm never gonna have this chance again. I'm never gonna have it again." And at the time I was 283 or something, and I was gonna go for like the world record then to be beat 661. And that was 1984. So I left. I took the leave of absence January of '84,and still on leave [laughs]. SY: I was gonna say, so you gonna go back to dental school [laughs]? I'm kidding. TA: And yeah and…. SY: I'm still technically on leave from my Ph.D. program. TA: Really, yeah? SY: And it's been a long time [laughs].9 TA: Well you know, you only got one life, you know, so. So I did that and that really set the stage because I knew I was getting invited to the next one. Now keep in mind at the time these weights I'm going for - 650, 666, 700 you only can cycle, my workouts you can only cycle those like once a year because it does takes so much out of your body. And so I was really thinking this thing out smart, I said, "I'm gonna do this right, I want to get that seven. I know I can do it, but without getting injured, I'm not gonna have, I don't want to do 2/3 contests a year because I'll burn myself out. I'll get stale, I'll get hurt." So I planned it out well and um, I, the extension, the leave of absence continued you know for well the next year, 1985. And that's when I did it - March 3, 1985 in Hawaii. The third time I was out there, the Hawaiian International Powerlifting Championships. SY: So tell me about that day. TA: Yeah there's a sign right up there. That was the first one I did when I --you can see the--it was April 5, 1983. That's when I was on my leave of absence, not leave of absence I was doing my qualifications, my general, my studies for prerequisites for Tufts. And the next year I was in dental school. And then that was only like, I don't know four months, then I got out. So yeah he took it, he took it hard but I--it's like okay, I'm getting ready for this meet. So what I did was I ah…. SY: Did he not get the powerlifting thing too? What did he think? TA: I can't blame him because no one makes a living lifting weights, you know? There's no money in that. SY: Was he was he Polish? Was he the Polish? TA: He's Italian. SY: He's Italian. TA: Oh yeah. SY: Is he an immigrant? TA: Ah son of an immigrant. SY: Son of an immigrant so…. TA: It's in that category, that culture still you know - someone's gonna take your spot you know you're not gonna come back, and you know they think the worst, they're alarmists. That's the beauty of the man, he saw down the road. He wants to see not just the next ten years, you know, but what happens later because it goes by quick you know, time. So he ah, he was worried. I said, "Listen, if I don't get the record, I'm going back to school." I ended up getting the record. And wrestling was big and then the Globe like I said yesterday, the Globe did a big article on me and um… SY: So once that started happening did he stop worrying? TA: No. He assumed that I was going back to dental school. But he was the first one to find out that I wanted to get into pro-wrestling by reading the article. And I had that tape recording with the old machines, the voice machines, the uh telephone machines, answering machines, and I kept it for the longest time: "Ted, I just saw the Boston Globe article. If you even harbor a thought of joining that circus I'm changing the locks." Click. He didn't talk to me for several months. SY: Really? 10 TA: Yeah, I could see you know he's like, "What the hell are you doing now?" And I told him, I said, "Wrestling is really big now." And I went down to see Vince McMahon, you know he had contacted me and he heard of what I did and stuff. And Ken Patera who was a big wrestler back then who happened to be in the Olympics, in Olympic lifting, that's how he got in there like years before me. He was in jail because him, there was this big thing during WrestleMania, him and this other wrestler Saito they, they broke into a McDonald's. The guy was closing he said, "No I see the hambuger's here." They went in and then he had to do some time, so they needed another strongman. So timing is everything. He was like the strongest Olympic lifter at the time, silver medalist anyway. But was legit because people want to see a real strongman in wrestling. I don't care what they, you still see that today. Excuse me, hold that thought. [phone vibrates] SY: Holding that thought, holding that thought. Interview pauses and resumes. Okay so we were in the middle of you, you were talking about you were talking about '85. TA: Yeah, okay, so where was I? Um yeah, obviously still on my leave of absence. Is this before I set the record? SY: This is, well okay, we're talking about your dad, your dad's voice mail. TA: So I set the record, yeah and uh… SY: We still haven't gotten to the day of the record…. TA: and I'm hopping on the wrestling thing you know. SY: Right. TA: I want to make some money with this body. I mean I'm right there, I'm bigger than the wrestlers, you know? SY: But you hadn't done any wrestling? TA: No. No. And I knew I had to go camp, wrestling camp, so they put me in wrestling camp for six months down the WWF in Orange, Connecticut. And at the time now I started my vitamin company while I was student teaching in 1984, May of '84. And… SY: So you're back to phys ed? TA: Well I was, I was not student teaching, I was working as a sub and sometimes the full time teacher too like filling in and stuff because I was still um--yeah I was I was… SY: Because it's less time than dental school? TA: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Because let me see now, when did? Yeah I lasted until January and done with school, January of '84. So I had to make a living. And I got back into, I got into teaching. I was always like subbing even while I was doing my prerequisites. I was subbing while I was going to Northeastern, Middlesex. And I did, I had a good name subbing, kids liked me, you know. And I was doing mostly sciences, I loved science because you know, biology, physical science, and I got paid the same money and I didn't have to run around in a sweat suit and stuff. Hell I wanted to save my energy for lifting you know? So at the time I was substituting and filling in as teachers, so I, at the same time I started my vitamin company in May of '84 with like four or five products out of Powerlifting USA. It was a magazine for powerlifters that got about maybe 15,000 subscribers but it was enough to start [sneezing from interviewer] --bless you, must have been the horse -- ah enough to like generate money selling 11 products you know? It was only vitamins I had. The basic ones - amino acids, um mega packs, protein, couple of other little things like orchic, glandulars, carbo fuel. And there's an interesting twist on this how I got into that. Because at the time I was letting somebody use - you know how you get endorsements, small endorsements - out of that magazine because I was up an coming and I had set some records in the 275 pound weight class. And I was a super heavy weight so everyone's, you know, they want you to advertise their products. And this guy was John Buckley out of out of Plymouth, I'd like to say, down that way Plymouth, Mass. He wanted me to endorse some vitamin pills. I didn't know much about it, I said, "Yeah, as long as I can get some free vitamins and give me some money," you know. It wasn't a lot but I figured hey I can get free training supplies and vitamins. So I didn't have a contract. I just "yeah, sure." And I found out because I went down to visit him and his wife and him are like, this like from a little ad in Powerlifting USA, I went down unannounced just to pick up some vitamins you know some amino acids, throw me a few bottles, you know. And they're wrapping boxes. There must have been like twenty or thirty boxes. Those were orders that came in every day. So the mechanism starts turning, and I'm like, "What is this guy? I can do what he does, and it's my name." I didn't have a contract I got out of it. He was bullshit. I started my own. I went to the same supplier too. SY: There you go. TA: Yeah because I saw it. It was on the label - distributed by or manufactured by and I said, "Listen, I'm the guy. I've been endorsing this thing for a year and I want to do it my own." And it worked out great. And after teaching I would come home and there would be a couple of blinks on the answering machine and they could be catalogs or orders. I was doing pretty good. I was doing like, I don't know, started out light that, that ah, that spring. But as my, as I got out there and people knew it was my company and I would talk to them on the phone about their progress in lifting and stuff, which is good like a lot of vitamin companies are not gonna do that, you just buy their stuff through GNC. But I was giving them programs, telling them how to do things, how to take the supplements, and I built up a hell of a fan base and business, you know. So that kept me going. I didn't have to do any teaching anymore as I got into that, and then that culminated into ah, once I got the record I had two things. The vitamin company got really big. I was in a guy's basement and you could smell vitamins. It was boxes and boxes of vitamins. I'd go to the ah, I had a box company deliver there. On this neighborhood in Newton, Mass., an eighteen wheeler would pull up where he's not supposed to and, and give me mail order supplies. And the owner was cool, Neil Todd, and he liked it. He thought it was pretty cool. He was a professor at BU but he knew I was getting big with the supplements because you walk down there and I had it down. I had my computer. It was an old Apple. Type out the labels. I had like a thing I got at Vista--I don't think they had it back then, Vista print, a little catalog on how to take the supplements, ah prices. And UPS came every day and it was the balls. It was great. And I was training. I was like okay this like being a professional athlete. I'm endorsing my own stuff, which was different. A lot people didn't know about doing that. SY: So you kind of made it? TA: Yeah, yeah and but I did it. I marketed myself which was good, you know. All because of that visit that I had: "Hey I can do what he's doing, and its mine, my name. Let me do it." you know? SY: So you turned yourself into a brand? You branded yourself? TA: Yes. I branded myself, yeah. SY: That's interesting. 12 TA: And then after I set the record in '85, the world record, the 705, man I'd go to the PO boxes I'd get like fifteen orders a day. And I had to get out there because it was just getting too big. SY: Let's talk about making that record that day because I want to know what you remember. TA: Ok yeah, March 3, 1985. I flew out there a week -- I was really smart about this too and I think like I said it goes back to my education and you know my instinct, sensing my body, of what I needed to do to just have that peak performance for literally two seconds. That's it, two seconds. So I get there a week ahead, get acclimated, ate good food, relaxed. You're not getting any stronger. I did a light, light, super light workout. Oh God it was maybe 225 for a set of ten, light triceps, real light just to stimulate the nerves, you know. Did some like light jogging, you know. And I ate really good. I stayed with Hawaiian out there who was also competing with his family and so I hung out with him but we'd go out and have steaks and eat well and just relax until the meet, which is kind of serene. It's kind of a good feeling because whatever happens, happens. That record, whether it's gonna happen or not, that happened back at home in the mainland doing all those reps. God, my last workout set before I left, ten days before the actual meet I did six, thirty-five for two sets of three reps; and then I did six, fifty for two and a half reps. I knew I was ready. Because then when I do my warm-ups for the stage and stuff and you got the adrenaline out there I knew if I'm on I'm gonna get this son-of-a-bitch. SY: So you walk out and there's a whole crowd there? TA: Two thousand people. Because they knew me already from the two previous years because I'm always setting records out there in different weight classes, you know? SY: Are you nervous, you don't get nervous? TA: Nah, nah you don't get it. SY: Just adrenaline? TA: It's, it's you just psy--you got be to be controlled, you know. And I think that's on YouTube, my world record, you can see it. Yeah it's on YouTube, along with some clips from acting. SY: So you walk out there and you, you know, you get started…. TA: Well I open up, I'm like when you, you have three attempts in the bench, in any lift: bench, squat, dead lift. And I would do a token, when I did this they start with squats. I just did a token 500 pounds. It was just to get on the board because you have to do three lifts, you have to compete in three lifts in order to get a world record it has to be official. Comes to the bench, you get the lightweights, it all starts light you know, people weighing 100 pounds - lightweights, mediumweights, heavy, all the way up to heavyweights. And I warm up and my first attempt was 608 and it was like me and one other guy left. He was going for 600 maybe, or mid-sixes, or early sixes like 620. So it was just me and him and people loved this, you know. Because this is now the heaviest weight of the whole meet, and everybody loves the bench press. I don't care what you say, it's not how much you can squat. You look at somebody, "What do you bench man, like the state of Rhode Island?" you know. So I opened up with 608. It flew, it flew. Remember I told you that thing about in the locker room, in the warm up room I felt a twinge? If I'm gonna go, let me go, you know? I'm going back to dental school, you know. 608 flew. That kid ended up trying like 630. He bombed and now it was just me. Next attempt: 650. Blew it up [snaps finger]. Could have done four reps with that thing. Everything was clicking. It's just like one of those times you know? And then they said, "He's gonna go for a world record, 678." That means a 661, 71 that's like what? Sixteen pounds, fifteen pounds more. I ultimately wanted to go out for 7 but jeez, God forbid if something 13 happened I got to get away with a world record anyway. That went up. Put the bar down, and then you could hear the announcer Aand the crowd's going crazy. They want seven." I'm out there, "Seven, you want seven?" you know. And they went shithouse. And then, "He's gonna go for seven, load it up, this is history folks! This is history!" And the way it's set up because it's, it's kilos, the metric system, 699 and three quarters, now what's the next number? 705.5, set it up. Set that goddamn thing up. And uh they show me resting in between chalking me, TV cameras and on, I said, "I'm just focused, whatever it is God it's in your hands," you know? I just get emotional thinking about it you know? So uh I got out there and it's like, it's almost like surreal. I could just feel the, [pause] I didn't hear anything, you know. And I got the lift off, I brought it down, and I heard the judge. You could see the picture out there she's yelling, "Rack!" because you have to hold it on your chest for like a minute, not a minute, a second but it's the longest second in the world. But I didn't care and I locked it up and it was just, it was unbelievable. The place went shithouse. And ah, I threw my belt in the crowd and I just knew like it's gonna open up so much, you know? So… SY: And you also knew you'd done something no human…. TA: Oh yeah, "Strongest Guy on the Planet," you know, "Strongest Guy on the Planet." SY: What does it feel like to be the "Strongest Guy?" You know literally every single person you walk past, you know, "Oh I'm stronger than him, I'm stronger than him." TA: Oh yeah, well you're flying to Hawaii and you're looking at the world. You know I mean just puts it in perspective but it was just like, because it's so hard to get there you know. And it was great. It was like ah it just changed it everything overnight, you know? Then I got the calls from the wrestling, more endorsements and stuff and then the vitamin company grew like a bastard. But I wanted to focus on wrestling because I wanted to get into the wrestling. And yeah they sent me to camp. They all knew about the record. It was everywhere. And even some of the wrestlers they knew I was coming in with the World: "Well we can do seven too!" but it's just a joke you know? But I did it and they were lifters too and they respected that. I would talk to them and stuff. It was, it was great, yeah. I went to wrestling camp after that, I, my brother helped me with the company, vitamin company in that basement there and then I had somebody else, we moved it up to Concord, New Hampshire. One of the kids, one of the lifting friends, had a place up there and we did it out of at his house for a while. Then I just moved into like an industrial park because it was just getting bigger. Then I moved here, fast forwarding, in '88. SY: Oh you've been here since '88? TA: I've been here since '88 yeah but that was phenomenal. SY: And so that was the beginning. TA: That was the beginning, yeah. SY: And then um… TA: I can still picture it. SY: Yeah? TA: Yeah it's like - SY: What's the image? 14 TA: It's dark on the side and ah, it went up easy, it went up unbelievable. It was unbelievable. It went up so, I think I could have done two reps with it, I swear to God, or at least one and a half which is absurd, you know? SY: That's amazing. TA: Oh yeah the crowd helped. I mean how can you not? You see why like in football and stuff they go crazy, they're running that extra yard. You got the crowd too. I mean it's insane, you're like a gladiator, you know. But it was just that record it was all due to the training I did by myself you know? Didn't have a coach. And I had the right formula just watching my ass, you know, don't over train and eat well, and sleep well. Sounds simple but you gotta have good workouts too. You gotta really work out hard when you're doing your work outs. You gotta really try to work your triceps and your shoulder presses and your bench presses, but that can only be done if you have the other two. So if you screw up there's always one of those triads that you mess up. Yeah. SY: And so you didn't get hurt before then you haven't gotten hurt since? TA: Never, never. Ah just from training yeah just from training. I, I think I should have just--I came back and I did the record again in '91 and that's when they had those bench shirts, those real heavy bench shirts and they were so easy I trained for six months and I got 725. But I was getting problems with my elbows. I couldn't lock them out. So they disqualified that. But you know I should have gotten out at least by 1990 because for some reason I was just building up a lot of bone calcification in my shoulders and in my elbows to the point that you couldn't extend and I'm thinking, you know I'm not gonna tell, even though you could tell the judge that's as far as your go, you look like shit because you only go up like halfway or three quarters and people are saying, "lock it out," you can't lock it out. SY: And this is a performance, right so you need to give the people what they want? TA: Yeah, yeah but I just knew my time, you know, I just I just concentrated on the vita--I still do exhibitions and stuff but I had to get my elbows operated on. And they did a great job, they took all the calcification out so I can unlock my elbows and I had to wear a brace. I still wear a brace to this day on both arms just to keep it stretched so it doesn't get that way because I lift light but that's what I should have done more was stretching I think, then I wouldn't have that problem. I didn't stretch enough and that's what builds up like barnacles because your body has so much pressure and its bones on a joint, on the bone matter, that it reacts by building more bone even if it's like like bone spurs and things like that. It will find a way. SY: Was it hard to let go of competing? I'm just thinking…. TA: Not really because you know I started getting sore. When your work outs get hard and your wrists hurt because of the elbows, and then you have all this other index pain it hurts. It's time to get out. And I'm glad I did. I think I did my last heavy workouts I did a rep record for reps in '96, this is after the surgery. And I did ten clean reps with 500, which was easy. I did it for an exhibition in Boston but I knew that was it, you know move onto other things so yeah. SY: And that was okay? TA: That was good. I did the biggest lift, it's still the biggest lift ever, pounds over body weight. SY: It's still the biggest lift ever?15 TA: For a super heavyweight. They're breaking it now like 727-30 but they're weighing 400 pounds. I weighed 293. SY: What about the pressure? The steroids pressure. How can, how can, because that takes a toll on the body? TA: Ah yeah but you got to be methodical about that too, you know. I went and had a doctor I didn't want to take the shit off the street. I went to a real doctor. I had blood tests. And what was beautiful, the beautiful thing was I was cycling once a year for heavyweight and that was smart. Because I'd be off for a lot of the year and just get on for a few months. SY: Did it affect your personality? TA: No. No not at all, didn't affect my health at all, not at all. It gets a bad rap. It's medicine if you take it the right way. It's, it's fine but if you overdose on that. SY: What about the 'roid rage and all that stuff? TA: Yeah I…maybe those people didn't know how to contain themselves and they didn't cycle. I think it's overdrawn because I still think it's their ego that's hidden and they just get more boastful and arrogant assholes, you know. SY: Sort of like a mean drunk usually is-- TA: Yeah exactly, is usually mean prick anyway, yeah absolutely. SY: You learn a lot from people. TA: Oh yeah and you see that in gyms and stuff. But I did get some knowledge from bodybuilders, the ones that were really really good like Olympias. They would only do one show a year, Olympia. And they took a lot of stuff, I mean they took diuretics and everything else but they wouldn't put their body through that three or four times a year. You'd die. Do it once a year. That was the greatest thing just doing one meet a year that last two years. SY: Interesting. TA: Yeah. SY: Yeah. TA: Peaking is everything, everything peaking. SY: Hm. What do you mean? TA: Your body peaking. If you do two or three, four meets, your body doesn't have enough sufficient rest, it gets stale. If you focus on one meet and you train naturally for like three quarters of that year, nothing, you're building up your tendons and then you're building up into a heavier weight. So it's still fresh and your body reacts and it welcomes that. It's not getting beaten toward uh catabolism and anabolism. Catabolically is when you're breaking down and anabolically is when you're building up. So you want to make sure that the circumstances and your surroundings are favorable for that type of genesis, you know. And it is, it was and its it's pretty simple. Luckily as I said I had this science background. I mean when I went out I was dumbfounded. I mean there were some other competitors, there was some strong kids out there, strong guys, one from Alabama - what's he eating the night before? McDonalds. He, he died. I mean he didn't die, he couldn't even get his opening attempt. You don't eat 16 McDonalds food. So they didn't have the knowledge, they didn't have the knowledge, and the knowledge is power. SY: Alright so let's talk about wrestling. So what was it like to be part of as your father called it - TA: The circus. SY: That crazy circus. TA: Yeah, yeah. I ah, I went to wrestling camp in July and I was on TV in December. Starting with the interviews and stuff like that they're building me up you know I was the "World's Strongest Man," so they gave me all squash matches and stuff like that just to build me up. And that was awesome, it's on national TV. Every morning they showed the world record bencher in Hawaii, so like this guy's legit. So whenever I would go to a match they liked me because I would bring asses into the seats you know? I didn't have the greatest technique in wrestling but I still can throw people around, you know. SY: Which is pretty much what they want in wrestling. TA: Yeah, yeah, and there's theater and I started off as a good guy and all the way to WrestleMania I was a good guy, and then they wanted, I wanted to change, I wanted to go to, I liked the drama of being a bad guy. And they wanted me to be a heel because I had that persona, so I went to a couple different territories to wrestle, just to build that up, to build up your craft you know, to work your system. And I went to Calgary and worked up there after. I did, I was in the WWF for like a year and then I went to Calgary for maybe three months, and then I went, I got recruited down to World Class Wrestling with the Von Erich's and that's where I really became a good heel. And the vitamin company still growing; I got people working in the vitamin company. And I ended up falling in love and just going back to work and I had a kid on the way and I didn't go back to WWF. I went back to here, I went here. It changes you know when you have a kid. And the road is--plus I mean I had a great income on the side. It wasn't on the side, that was even making more than wrestling. At the time I was in GNC's. I'd do the demonstrations too. Immediately they order thousands and thousands of dollars especially if they knew I was gonna come in and do a demonstration and sign autographs which is great. Anytime a fan to this this day from TV or from this how it's tied into together - they want an autograph I give an autograph. They paid me. I can't fathom these people that just won't give them the time of day and stuff. It's very sad. SY: So you came back here and you've been running this company and helping develop this building and then now you're doing acting. So tell me about that. TA: Yeah I um, after I did that rep record in Boston for WHDH sports - it was like a big thing down in Boston, promote something. It was on TV and stuff. It was good. I wanted to do something, I always wanted to get into acting. Some of my fellow wrestlers would be in acting and they were doing thug stuff and I'd like to try that you know? And I'm glad I did it the right way. I went to acting school in Boston for a couple of years and I started doing a lot of student films. Those are the best because these are kids as you know Emerson College, BU, this is a mecca here. And all these student films, graduate films, they can use as much tape and free cameras. I mean it's in their tuition. And all I wanted to get was my best scenes where I can a reel together to send to New York. Because I knew I, you know I ended up scoring some decent commercials that made national, made area commercials. You know CVS was one of my first ones. Nevada Bob's - remember them? Nevada Bob's, that was a sporting goods store. Um… SY: Was this as Ted Aricidi or as? 17 TA: As Ted Aricidi, yeah. And I would go in and they knew I lifted but they, it didn't make that crossov-- and I didn't want it to. I wanted to make as an actor you know, just the bones, the chops. But I did a ton of student films and one of the student films went to Sundance which is cool SY: What film? TA: Bobby Loves Mangos. SY: Gotta write it down I haven't seen it. And what do you like about acting? TA: I love getting int different personas. I'm a character actor. I love it and now I'm getting. Yeah it's just, you start out with a character and you bring what you can bring to the table. They want to see you, they don't want to see you act like somebody else. And I get that for auditions and stuff. SY: Do you think that your time, because your body was, you know your body was a tool when you were a weightlifter, right? And when you're an actor your body is an instrument that's the word I'm looking for. Do you think there's a parallel? TA: I think there is. I think I got my work ethic still. I mean I still go to New York a lot and I'll take classes with other actors, other working actors. Because you always want to hone your craft you know like workshops and stuff with casting directors. I do that all the time, even when I'm busy. It just keeps you sharp, it just keeps you on your thing and they'll throw you a scene and sometimes it's cold read and stuff. I love it. It's very instinctive, very instinctive. SY: Do you feel like you get typecast or you? TA: Ah not anymore. I lost a lot of weight you know I can wear a long shirt. I can be a detective, I could be a blue collar guy. Last one I did I owned a bowling alley, Donald Cried,that should be coming out probably in another year I would think. We just finished that. I had some really good scenes in that. And then I was with Rosanna Arquette in a movie too, Born Guilty. That was just filmed a couple months ago. And I played a deli owner, like her friend. She shoots the shit with me. [Laughs] that was cool. So yeah I like all the different ones and I'm glad I did lose though a lot of weight because I don't want to be typecast as just a thug. I could do that, you know I'll do if I have to, you know. But like in the movie the Family I did that as a bodyguard, no as a hit man trying to kill Deniro and his family. Me and six other hit men from New York. And ah, but they gave me a subst--a decent role in that too so it wasn't just a guy with a gun and just say a couple of words. I had, I had some decent stuff. SY: You got to be more nuanced. TA: Yeah, yeah and they throw stuff at you, and then like there's the fighter too. How could I forget that! I played an ESPN fight promoter, a matchmaker, you know? And they hide me for who I was. They, he didn't know and I never tell you know? Let them find out later, you know. So yeah character acting is great. I love it. It's just such a, it's a different, it's different than lifting. But it's something that I know I'm good at and, and I love doing it. I'll do it until the day I die. I'm very lucky to be able to jump into a, into another field like this. SY: And the vitamin business makes that possible? TA: Yeah well the vitamin business is no longer because when I got out of the competitive thing I figured I had a good trailing, I had a good following but it's almost like hmmm mid-nineties, that was about it, you know. 18 SY: Bit this sports equipment business-- TA: Yeah that's doing well, that's doing very well downstairs. And we sell new fitness equipment - the stations, multi gyms, the single stations, weights, and everything. And then what's really big though is the cardio business: treadmills, ellipticals, bikes, steppers. But I get them from Precorp, I get them used and I have a tech care, and we refurbish them and we end up having a good niche on the market. I mean, these things go for - the kind you see in the gyms, the real good ones like, like Life Fitness, Precorp's a big name - they'll go for six/seven thousand dollars. I'll get them through this distributor who distributes for Precorp in all the schools, colleges. And I get 'em from them and I have a good tech and we basically refurbish them back to like new standards. And we, and they and they we sell them at half the price. There's only two of us in New England - me and this other guy in Rhode Island. And that's doing great, yeah. SY: So. TA: And then I got the building too. SY: The building to. So I'm just thinking, you know when I - wresting and weightlifting were not on my radar as a kid growing up, definitely it just wasn't. But when I mentioned to my husband who I was gonna interview, and he grew up in the '80s, and he was like, "Ted Arcidi! Holy shit, da da da da, right?" TA: Lot of people know, yeah. SY: And he, this is not like, he doesn't follow wrestling, he doesn't follow. But you, when he was a kid you were a big deal, right? So what do you think represent to people? What do you think you represented to like you know eight-year-olds when you were um…? TA: Oh I was like a super hero to them, absolutely, especially when wrestling was getting catapulted like that. Wrestling peaks and valleys, crests, and troughs, and I hit it at a, I hit it at a crest. And oh yeah especially when you're in the WWF and that's when there wasn't a lot of cable. People watched WWF religiously. Hulk Hogan - I mean I trained with him. We're in matches together. I mean it was phenomenal. That's why I think it was easier to transcend into acting because I was with these guys. It's not like, "Okay I'm working with Mark Wahlberg -whoo!" You know who gives a shit? He's an actor, he's a good actor, I'm gonna work with him. I could hold up my own against him and they come up to you after and they and they talk to you and stuff and shoot the shit because they get it from all angles, at that level it's insane. SY: And did--I bet Mark Wahlberg grew up with you? TA: He probably saw me. Yeah, I didn't pick his brain. He wanted to go golfing. If I'd golfed that day, we were gonna go golfing I didn't golf. I go, "My father golfed, so" [laughs]. SY: I'm just wondering if I have any concluding thoughts. So do you, yeah let's go back to Norwich because this is about Norwich. So do you think about your time at Norwich? Do you feel like you? TA: That was instrumental. I don't think I would have been in the right environment to be as diligent and committed and ambitious in my weight training in my weight lifting to be the best in the world if I was somewhere else. Because there would be too many distractions. I mean I was a big fly fisherman, trout fisherman, so all's I did was eat, lift, do my studies, plenty of time to do the studies, and I would go fishing. I'd be fishing every weekend. SY: So it provided you with the environment where you could? 19 TA: Conducive to do that. And you're with other guys that look up to you too. Every workout was like a show there. And they were just pushing me. I'm representing the school so that was really good after that by junior year yeah it was like, I don't want say the big man on campus but they knew what was going on. They read articles and stuff and it's great for Norwich I mean the president, "hey I gave him extra food" [laughs]. But they see an article in the Globe and they see Norwich, that's great for the school and I think they started a weight lifting club with me there. SY: Did you contemplate going into the military at some point or did you know? TA: No. I just wanted to do my two years mandatory up there, yeah. SY: And then you knew you were done? TA: Yeah. But you have to do the two, you know, because you are technically I mean it says they could call you in those two years. That's when we had that static with the Iran hostages and all that. I could have got called in because I was still commissioned for two years at, in ROTC, you know. But there's a thing there, they could still call you in. SY: Were you worried about it at the time? TA: Nah, no because I didn't think we were gonna get called in. They had Marines ready to go in there you know SY:Yeah. What are they gonna call you in for. I don't know if I have any other questions. TA: Well if you have any more call me. Scott Norton! write it down! SY: Scott Norton! TA: Scott Norton! SY: We got it on tape. TA: Okay great. SY: You remembered it! TA: Yeah, yeah. He was instrumental big time, Scotty. SY: Yeah, how? TA: Just helped me when I was benching over 550 he was giving me lift offs. That's insane. That's when I bent two bars, two of Mynter's bars [laughs]. Oh I should tell you about this though. No one really knows about this but before when I was training for Hawaii, the big lift 1985, I had a bad lift off in the gym in Waltham, Mass. The kid gave me the lift off and this is when I was doing 635, 630. This is like, no this is in '84. It was like 630 for two I was at time then. This is in 1984 this is…April-May? I got the lift off, this is 630. He gives me the lift off but when he rolls it off he twists his hand like that and it made the weight go down like that and it just went, free falled on my chest up and down, 630 pounds. People thought I was dead. I'm in shock and they had me there. They were gonna call the ambulance. I could kill 20 somebody. It bounced up and down. I must have tensed up. And he felt like shit. I felt so sorry I said, "Listen it could happen to anybody, you know?" But they had me sit down, rest, because I could have internal bleeding, I could be dying there. It's like when people have a stroke or an aneurysm, they're talking to you and then all of a sudden they're out you know? That could have been it down there. I could have blown a valve or something. And I felt like a pain, a twinge, but it wasn't that bad. If it was you know it wasn't swelling up or nothing. And I finished my fucking workout. I went back there and I did 630 for three. I had a seminar in Iowa that weekend to do behind the neck presses, and I couldn't even bring my hands back. I couldn't sneeze. It was bruised, a bruised sternum. I had an X-ray done that night. Not broken, nothing. I mean that's just testimony to like how strong and how well developed with tendons and muscles just doing an instinctive freeze that it just literarily bounced up and down. That would kill somebody. That would kill them. SY: I think it would kill, it would've killed any other human. Alright so let's have a big reflective question. TA: Yeah. SY: What lesson have you learned or can you impart from having been the strongest man in the world? What does that teach you? TA: Never give up. If you know you, I mean people have to have a perception of what they're capable of. I still think that a lot of people are over stroked today, "you can do anything." No you can't do everything but there's something you can do good. And if you think you can do good, and if you think you can do better than others, that's the whole idea behind competition, and I knew that the way I was making the gains I'm gonna stick this thing out and be smart about it, you know? SY: So everybody should just find their thing. TA: Find their thing, yeah. I think everyone could do something and if they work out hard enough -whether that's acting or you know pushing a broom or running a company, there's something there's some trait everyone has and just follow that and don't get dismayed. I had a lot, you get backstabbers everybody gets backstabber you know, jealously. The guy's record I broke, Bill Kazmaier. Oh God he was sending people to buy supplements from me saying they got sick. He called the FDA on me he was trying to say the lift wasn't legal. I said, "Hey, get over it man. I broke your fucking record. I broke it by forty-six pounds you know?" SY: Deal with it. TA: Yeah. yeah, so yeah. You get the, they call deterrers, yeah you get them. You know [laughs] it's jealousy. It's jealousy. It's basically a reflection on them, you know, what they're inadequate of doing something. SY: So did your dad ever forgive you for not being a dentist? TA: Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah, he saw I was doing well. But even when I--I bring him here and he realized that I could probably do this for the rest of my life if I stuck with it, with the vitamins but I got into the equipment and then I started a women's gym here, women's only fitness. And he was such a great guy he, like I say he's still around, this building was a distressed building, we bought it from the FDIC together 21 and I developed it. This whole mill building it's like a huge horseshoe. We got this this wing and the half of the wing on the riverfront. Then there's a middle section guy who owns it and then you have another people, another owner on the other side. But he was really proud what I did because I never had to take a loan. I made it with my money, you know, with my businesses and that was phenomenal. SY: You were, it's really interesting you were very smart in terms of you were like, "I have this skill, I have the science background, I'm developing my body, and then I'm turning myself into a brand…" TA: I could make products, vitamin products but with more potency for weightlifters you know with my name on it because I'm proven. There's a poster out there - "owner tested, owner approved." I mean that sticks in people's heads. Not that your gonna bench 700 but this guy knows what he's talking about. And I would do seminars and talk about science and muscle recuperation and stuff and you know people. I'm not trying to impress people I'm just telling like it was. But that's because of that great education at Norwich you know? Um hmm…what else? SY: I don't know that's a lot. We've talked a lot. TA: Yeah it goes by quick huh? SY: This was great. TA: Thank you for coming up.

Frank Yannacone, July 22, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. ; 75p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Yannacone, Frank, an oral history by Lorrie Rands, 22 July 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Frank Yannacone July 22, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. LR: Okay it's July 22, 2013. We are in the home of Mr. Frank Yannacone doing an oral history about 25th street and his memories of the buildings and the his memories of the life on that street. So Mr. Yannacone thank you so much for letting us be in your home today. I'm sorry, I'm Lorrie Rands doing the interview, Melissa Johnson is here with me as well as your daughter in law. FY: Marva LR: Marva? FY: Well Yannacone LR: Yannacone, well of course. I told you when I walked in my blonde is showing. MY: That's okay LR: I'm having my day. So Mr. Yannacone I would love for you just to start—go ahead and start at the Broom Hotel and make your way up and down the street. FY: Okay the Broom Hotel. I remember it in the 1950s, it was in kind of a state of disrepair. When it was built it was supposed to have been the best between Denver and San Francisco—of course I heard the same claim for the Hotel Utah when that was built. But anyhow going west was, as I recall, Ross and Jack's Restaurant, which at that time it had a nice art deco façade and a lot of neon. The story was that Ross and Jack had a café and they got into some 1 disagreement so they put a wall down the middle and had Ross's Café and Jack's Café. It went on like that for many years and then they decided maybe that was pretty stupid so they took the wall out and put the nice façade and it was Ross and Jack's Café instead of Ross's Café and Jack's Café. Early history says that Jack Dempsey washed dishes there before he became a big time boxer. I just heard that, I don't know. Next I believe was Morris Men Shop, which was a men's Habersasher, but he was also a clearing house for Basque sheep herders. They'd come in from Elko, check—if they needed a job or looking for someone or mail drop, he was the clearing house for the Basques. Next I think that little bar on Kiesel and across the street where the Federal Building is now, on Kiesel, there was a little café, little diner. Next was Hemingway and Moser had a cigar factory there at least for a while. I can remember standing in the street watching them roll cigars and their brand had something to do with a blue whale or a blue point or something nautical. Next was Ogden Blue, a new business, just a little hole in the wall and now what, 60 years later they're still around and thriving I guess. There are a lot of assorted shops, restaurants, bars, I don't remember the rest of the block, but I remember a Hotel which was on Grant, still there. Next door was the Friendly Tavern, and Saturday nights my wife and I would go to hear the Salvation Army band play about 7:00 every Saturday night. Had a little brass band, I don't know 5/6 members and Sally's would go hit all the bars with their tambourines, collecting change. Starting in that block you had a lot of little restaurants and bars, a lot of Japanese. The whore houses were upstairs still 2 operating. I guess they operated until I don't know, close to 1960 and they— when they closed them up of course all that upstairs room turned into housing in the door to the upstairs started appearing little notices that upstairs was a private dwelling, no trespassing and as I recall there was a shooting down there. Some drunk insisted that it was a whore house and wouldn't take no for an answer and I think he got gunned down, that's my memory. I can't say for certainty, but for some reason it's in my mind. There was a little Japanese restaurant, little ma and pa place. Old wooden booths, hole in the wall, dark—somebody took us there and it had the best damn shrimp, even better than the Utah Noodle, they were great. All that block was mixed housing, bars, stores, shops, and whore houses. Down on the Lincoln end about the 3rd place from the corner there was a grocery store and a hotel upstairs. The name Howard comes into mind and as I mentioned last week I never talked to the guy, but I bought a Medal D'oro which is an Italian espresso coffee. He had it; he also had Luzianne coffee which was a chicory Cajun coffee and Sorgaum syrup. The only thing I can figure, I never asked, but the only thing that I can figure is the black population, a lot of them working on the railroad and they were on Wall Avenue. LR: Was the black population at this time allowed to come into the store or was it after? FY: Now that store, 25th street was different see, kind of. LR: I know the North side was for the whites and the south side was for the Negro population. 3 FY: No, no, no, no, no. The citizens, the residents lived on Wall, close to the railroad. Then they started moving up to Lincoln, but they were segregated. That was our ghetto misnomer of course cause I don't know where that started. A ghetto was a walled area in Europe and old Europe. Somehow or other now—we used to call them slums or something. Now they're ghettos, I don't know. Anyhow, there were a lot of Winos I mean it was kind of like skid row, 25th street. After they closed the whore houses it really went downhill. It was a pretty reasonable place, you never went out on a Saturday night without—you went to the Star Noodle or the China Temple, that ended your evening. It was quite civilized. They had—I can't remember the hotel on the corner it's gone now on the northeast corner of Wall and 25th street. MJ: Was it the Healy? FY: Might have been. I remember when they tore it down, nobody then wanted to put in sprinklers or fix it or something and they tore it down. Next door was the China Temple and next door was the Depot Drug and they had a sign out, "prescription filled." It was a regular drug store and a lot of bars. There was a time, it was before my time when you could do anything on 25th street. You could do banking, you could transact business, you could eat, buy clothing and they had hotels of course because the railroad was right there. There were—I saw it in the paper just recently, the Kokomo Club doing some repairs and they found some old artifacts. Kokomo Club was going strong when I came to Ogden, and there's a bar probably been running for geez anyhow 70/75 years, maybe longer and still going. 4 MJ: Yeah we are going to be interviewing the owners of it. FY: There was another one called I think Pagano's. Well anyhow we'll go across the street. That corner building is still there. It was a stone building and next to it were some small shops including a souvenir shop, had a big sign up, one cent postcards. You probably can remember that. That sign was there when postcards were a nickel or more. MJ: Now is this off of Wall down on that end? FY: We're coming back from Wall now. We're now on that big stone building, I don't know I don't remember what it was, could've been a bank when it was built, but it's still there. Then coming up, there were frame buildings, shops, big front windows painted red as I recall many of them, especially that one with the one cent postcards. You've got a picture somewhere I'm sure of it. MJ: That block right there, just off of Wall, we have very few pictures of. I think that first building is the Murphy Block and we've been talking to the family that owned that building, trying to get photos. FY: Well there's a picture in what did I tell ya? UtahHikes.com. Old Ogden, there's a picture from the terminal and it was taken after the hotel was torn down. But the building on the other side is still there and I imagine if you look close with a glass you can see that sign out there with the one cent. Then you came to the what did I say the name was? That hotel? LR: The Broom? No. FY: Where is that book? 5 MJ: Oh the Royal Hotel? FY: Royal! That was Weeklys'. That was where the black train people stayed. That was all segregated you know, until 64. It was the Royal Hotel and downstairs was the bar, the Porter's and Waiter's Club, which was a nightclub for all the blacks and stories about big bands coming and that's where Annabelle married Weekly. Then after he died she opened Annabelle's, which was a fried chicken place. I wasn't into fried chicken, my wife was, but I could eat her chicken and I told you the story why I could eat her chicken. She said it was cooked by Mexicans in lard, and I checked, all her cooks were Mexican and they had big, cast iron skillets and Dutch ovens and you could smell the lard if you got close to the pass out window. Then last I heard about her, she took a degree in sociology and was working for the state. Now there's a guy around town and he comes here occasionally, he's 93 years old and he's a musician and his name is Joe… MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: Eastman? No Joe, MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: McQueen. MJ: The saxophone player. FY: Yeah, he used to play there. I understand he still—he's 93 years old and he still comes up here and takes people shopping and runs errands and stuff. I never had the chance to meet him yet, but I understand he and Annabelle were coming 6 back from Wendover and he was driving, had a wreck somewhere west of Tooele and she got killed. MJ: Yeah that was— FY: Can't be too many years ago. MJ: Four years ago? Five? LR: I thought it was a while ago. MJ: No it wasn't all that long ago. MY: Yeah, I remember something about that. FY: It was fairly recent, fairly recent. MJ: It was shortly after the document that Isaac Goeckeritz did. He filmed both Joe McQueen and Annabelle and it was about a year or so after that. FY: Now, story is she was the highest price call girl in Ogden. MJ: Oh really? FY: That was the story, she was a looker. When she was young, I mean she was a looker. Now we're talking about nice—a date, civility of 25th street. We had the whore houses all the doctors were in the First Security Bank building, maybe a few across at the Eccles building, but once a month those girls would go for their physical. I knew someone who worked at one of the dress shops and there were several of them in that block from 25th to 24th. There was Clifton's, they're still around. There was Hughes, I think Mode O' Day or something. Anyhow, the girls liked when the, I mean the clerks liked when the girls went for their physicals 7 because they shopped on the way home and spent money. These sales clerks worked on a base plus commission so they were happy to see them. The ladies they walked down the street you know it was civilized; you could go down and not worry about getting shot up or something. After they closed up these places then it got tough. That's when it became skid row. There were winos and drunks, it was tough. That's what happened to that Howard Hotel or grocery store or whatever it was. It was a yellow brick building. Some wino got hallucinations one night and he was cold and lit a fire under the sink and burned the whole damn place down. Yeah there were panhandlers, it was tough. The only time you went there, you went to the China Temple or the Star Noodle. MY: That was it. FY: Okay then we get up on that corner. There was a stack yard. A stack yard's an electrical place where they got transformers and I think that's still there, I'm not sure. MJ: I'm not sure either. FY: On Lincoln, Lincoln and Wall, or Lincoln and 25th. LR: I thought that was the building, wasn't that where Rose Davies building was? FY: No that's on the other side. We're still between Wall and Lincoln. LR: Hmm I thought we were on Lincoln now. MJ: So right on the corner there of Lincoln? 8 FY: There was I think a stack yard. Maybe on the wrong block, but it's a stack yard. I call it a stack yard, it's a place where the power company has transformers and wires coming in and going out. A substation I guess they call them. LR: There's one I seem to recall when we were at that Karen's Café. There was something behind it that reminded me of a substation so maybe that's it. FY: Well see I haven't been down that part of town—I've been here a year and haven't been down there. I figure it's not interesting anymore. LR: It actually is, it might be worth your while to go down and look at it again. FY: Well I hear they got a lot of overpriced restaurants. MJ: Yeah there's a few of those. FY: A lot of glitz and stuff like that and I don't walk well. It's of no historical interest to me anymore. Okay let's cross the street and go to El Boracho. MY: My class wanted to have our picture taken in front of it, but the nuns at St. Joseph's High School didn't think that would be good. LR: I can't imagine why. FY: Now across the street where the El Boracho is now I understand there was a restaurant called Patricia's or something or Poncho's, Mexican, Mexican place. My sister was over visiting from Cheyenne and she was going to take the bus back. I don't remember, hell I think that was the only—by then that was the only way to go back. I think the trains had quit running. Anyhow she wanted some authentic Mexican food and we took her in there. The food was delicious and I 9 don't think she enjoyed a bite because she was worried about if it was safe to be in there. MY: I could see Betty doing that. FY: Anyhow, the Rose Rooms were on top of El Boracho and I worked with a young fellow at the packing house. There was a garage across Ogden Avenue from the Hotel Ben Lomond and it was a parking garage, typical downtown parking garage that they had in those days. Hotel guests parked their cars there and business people, dropped their cars off for oil changes, there was no 15 minute Jiffy Lube back then. Anyhow he had a part time job while he was in high school and Rose had a big four door Sedan, I can't remember. He described, would tell us about it and she'd call—she'd want her car to go for a drive. He would have to deliver it, he was the gopher. He'd park the car and then he'd go upstairs and have to go back in the kitchen to give her the keys and usually he said some of the girls were in there having coffee and talking. It was afternoon, slow time of day I guess and he can remember hustling them. He could also remember they'd laugh at him you know, just a kid. He kept talking about it when he was older and I guess hey that was an experience. I worked with another guy whose aunt and uncle owned the Montana Hotel, next door which was a three story building. He spent a summer or so with them one time. He would talk about in the summer he'd go up on the third floor up on the roof and look over at the second floor roof next door and watch the girls sunbathing. Hey that's pretty thrilling stuff for high school kids I tell ya. MY: They didn't have the internet. 10 FY: Then it came up the street there to the Star Noodle. Now the Star Noodle—that fellow I don't remember his name, but I used to know it. He built Dai Enkotai out there on Highway 89, out in South Ogden. Dai Enkotai, Wayside Inn is the translation. When he built that there was no water up there on that part of the bench. 500 bucks would buy you an acre of land—I even had 500 bucks. He would go up there with his pickup loaded with 50 gallon drums and hand water all that planting he did. Last I saw it I was out there geez I don't know, 20/30 years ago had dinner there and everything has mature and I don't know if you've ever been in. It's a Japanese Tea House, you know the nice roof and the shoji doors, shoji doors you know are the wood and parchment, beautiful place. Anyhow he's planted all that stuff, everyone thought he was nuts. Then they built I think a Rockport dam and suddenly there was water, you couldn't buy 500 dollar an acre anymore. The place started booming. Anyhow I understand that sign is somewhere around. MJ: The Star Noodle? Yeah, the last I heard about it the city is holding onto it because they want it preserved and they want it actually put back up on the building as kind of a historic piece. FY: I'll tell you how that works. Up in Rexburg there was a theatre built in 1932 or 3. It was art deco. A big neon sign outside, and the company who owned that decided to abandon it and they built these stadium theatres. Somehow the city caught wind of it, they were dismantling everything, and the city was able to buy it. The stipulation, you can't show movies in there. Anyhow it took 10 or 15 years—we had an enlightened councilman up there. There was a problem with parking on 11 the main street and he says instead of the city spending money trying to restore that, let's tear it down and build a parking lot. Typical American thinking, it's 50 years old, get rid of it. Anyhow between the college, which did a lot of the engineering and design work free and a lot of student help and volunteers, they restored that building and they rebuilt the marquee. All neon and arrows and beautiful things. The only difference now instead of posting letters it's digital. It's on all day and most of the night, well until midnight every day. They post the weather and civic happenings and announcements like that, beautiful. Could've been lost you know? LR: So can you see them doing that with the Star Noodle, with that property? FY: I can see them with the sign yeah and the façade. MJ: I think that's the goal. Right now the building is empty and the owner is—the city has told him that he has to restore it. He can't tear it down, he has to restore it so he's working on that and right now the city is holding onto the sign for safe keeping so it will get restored. FY: See when they built the—in Salt Lake City, I can't remember, what was the shopping mall they built right across from the temple? LR: Crosswords, Crosswords Mall. MJ: Yeah FY: Then they went across the street and rebuilt the ZCMI block. That façade is the original, the old cast iron and they've done that in a lot of places. The inside, god only know what it is, but the outside is still there. Yeah they can do that with the 12 Star Noodle. Then up from that there were some assorted businesses, bars, I can't remember until you hit the Greyhound Terminal and I remember when they built that. I don't know what was there, but I remember when they built that. I think, and I'm not sure there, because reminds me of an art deco building, you know with that curved front. I can't be sure and next door was the big old home, the Elks Lodge. See the bakery, the bakery bought that—now if you're on Lincoln Avenue going south from El Boracho there was a red brick two story apartment building there. Had 6 or 8 apartments in there and I knew a guy, he was a colored fellow, worked with him. Lacey Jones and I can't remember his wife's name, but she was quite a character. Anyhow Lacey lived there and I remember when he bought it, now that's part of the bakery property too. Had to be in the 70s, it was still there, an apartment house. MJ: The Elks Lodge you mean? FY: No behind El Boracho. Then of course you went up 25th street to the Ben Lomond and that corner office used to be a Union Pacific Ticket office, so you didn't have to go to the depot. In those days you had 64 trains a day come through Ogden, you could've gone anywhere. Then the numbnuts guys, typical, what did they do? They went in and tore down all that cast iron canopies except for one. Filled in the subway, now they want to restore it and got no money. It was there! LR: So you're not an Ogden native? FY: No I came here in 1950. 13 LR: You're originally from? FY: Pennsylvania. LR: What brought you to Ogden, your job? FY: Work, yeah. I came out to school, married and then came to work for Swift. I worked there until they closed. There's another—the viaduct, used to walk across the viaduct, it was old and wooden. See you people wouldn't remember it because they rebuilt it before you were probably even alive. MY: It seems like there wasn't the one that's there now that I remember. FY: Well then you remember the old one. MY: I remember the old one. FY: You're older than these gals, yeah. It was iron with framed deco. It was 2 by, I don't know, 2 inch lumber on edge with black top on it. You walked up and then when you got across the yard before you hit the river there was a stairway, and I walked it many times like all other people to go to work. You'd walk down and it'd dump you off right there where there was a ramp that went down and the stairs took you down under the ramp right there to the packing house. West Ogden was Bertagnoli's Motel, Mountain View Motel, I think it was Bertagnoli. Used to be a motel, course we had stock shows and stock yards and Ogden was a booming town. Anyhow I noticed it's now an apartment, Mountain View apartments, but its story was he made his money as a bootlegger and then built the motel. They had the big stock shows, my father-in-law worked for, as a young fellow, he worked for Covey of Covey Bagley and Dayton, sheep people, 14 and the old man he's the one that built Little American over by Granger, I met him. My father-in-law came down from Logan to go to the stock show and we went down there one time and it's in November, cold weather you know. I don't know if you've ever been to a stock show, but they have the pavilion and they give parts of it to different exhibitors and they use straw or hay to kind of fence it off. There's no heat and we went down and that's the year I won a little leather suitcase from Read Brothers, when they were still on 24th street in the leather business. We had had a judging contest and they called me at home, you know you went in and gave your name and phone number. They called says you won the prize for the judging and I had that suitcase for years. Then somebody spilled something in it and I gave it to the DI. I wish I hadn't cause it had their plate on it you know. Anyhow we're walking down through there and you can see they all have big banners these places and you could see Covey Bagley and Dayton Herefords. We're walking down the aisle and my father-in-law says, "My god there's Anson," or Anselm, Ansom, A-N- I think S-C-L-M, or A-N-S-C-M, anyhow that was his name, Covey. Here's this old guy in a black overcoat and gray hair sitting on a bale of hay and we walked up to him and he got up and he says, "By god Tommy how the hell are you?" It had to have been WWI when he quit so it had to be like 40 or 50 years and he still remembered him. I thought that was just great. There's a guy see I wished I had recorded, there were real tape recorders when he was living. After his wife died he moved in with his son and he would tell stories about herding sheep out of Cokeville, Wyoming. There were so many 15 sheep and he said there were so many sage hens and in the spring when they started moving the sheep the ground would be yellow from sage hen eggs that the sheep trampled. Now you know they're endangered. MY: I've never heard of a sage hen. FY: Sage hen is a quail, some kind of a quail. There's a half a dozen kind of them. MY: They're cute FY: Anyhow you went up 25th street and I don't remember what was there before they built the Ramada Inn, but the Ramada Inn. God that had to be around 1970. MY: Yeah I'm trying to think what was there and I can't remember either. The church, I'd go to the church there FY: Then across the street was a church and they sold it and it was the American Legion Hall for many years. I don't know what it is now. MY: It used to be Kamikaze's. MJ: Yeah, it still is. FY: Oh, a club? MY: It's a bar. MJ: Yeah. MY: Then a Presbyterian church. FY: Then across the street you had Larkin's Mortuary and wasn't that the street where they had the White, the dance hall? 16 MY: That was on 25th and Adams. LR: White City. FY: White City, yeah. MY: Cool place, I remember. FY: Hell that was a big dance hall. It had a roof like the Salt Lake Tabernacle. Big dance hall and they tore that down. You had the Berthana and the White City LR: They were happening spots back in the day. MY: We used to roller-skate at the Berthana up into the 70s. LR: They were happening spots back in the day. They were the place to go. FY: They were dance halls. The Berthana then became a roller rink, but that White City was a dance hall. Yeah it had live music and bands and everybody danced and then you came down the hill. First was Jimmie's Floral, later years you had a little restaurant there called the Canton Low, next to it was a Beauty Shop Supply and next was—Kathy Faunce had a dress top shop, what the hell did she call that? Some fancy name, and then on the corner was Farr's Jewelry. The Canton on the base, on the first floor of the old Masonic Temple on, across from the courthouse. On the main floor was a Chinese restaurant called the Canton. The guy that owned that, and I think Rose who owned half of the Canton Low a little later, she was maybe his wife or his partner. Anyhow it was a big Chinese restaurant and he was going home one night and on the corner there of Adams and 25th there was a wreck, he got hit or whatever. No seatbelts in those days, he ran his car into the curb in front of St. Joe's church, got thrown 17 out, hit his head on the curb and got killed. That was the end of the Canton Café, now I don't recall the sequence of when the Canton closed and the other little place opened, but you had the Ben Lomond Hotel and Royal Shoe Store was next door. Guy sold Red Wings. I bought a pair, 5 bucks. LR: A pair of Red Wings for 5 bucks. FY: 6 inch shoes made in the USA of course, and a guy named Saccamano was his name. Oh and then you had the Orpheum, the Orpheum theater. You know how these theatres had long entries and businesses. Dokas's Greek Restaurant, it was just a lunch counter. It wasn't fancy, but it was Dokas's restaurant and candy store, hand dipped chocolates. You could get a blue plate lunch in there for like 45 cents or something. Then they moved down on Grant, somewhere between I think 24th and 23rd and they still had the candy. They were a wholesaler for tobacco and cigarettes and sundress. God that was a heyday. LR: You mentioned last time about the Bamberger that ran up 25th street. FY: It's in that book, the Bamberger was the interurban. When I grew up they were called Interurban Railroads. They were trolley cars and they went 60/70 miles an hour and I mean they were electric trains, but they were actually high powered trolley cars. You had them between cities and the Bamberger, okay let's go back. Bamberger was the first—he was a Jewish business man. He was a governor I think the only Jewish governor in the state of Utah. He had this railroad between Ogden and Salt Lake, well he started it. He started Lagoon cause he got to Lagoon and they couldn't go further so he started Lagoon and he 18 made some money and then he was able to finish down into Salt Lake. Their terminal, they came in from Logan. I think that was the U & I Railroad. Those railroads would go right down the main street and you could've gone from Franklin to Ogden to Salt Lake, I don't recall past that. They came in on Lincoln, had railroad tracks on Lincoln cause Becker's Brewery was on Lincoln about 21st street. The old Becker Mansion was across on the east side of Lincoln and beautiful old building with columns, sure you got pictures. I was disappointed after coming back after 25 years. Utah still has that 3.2 law. Becker was making 3.2 beer, but he had a place up in Evanston called the Uintah Club beer where he made full strength beer. Every brewery has a bar, bar room. I don't remember what year it was, but they put radios in the switch engines. Now Ogden was big you know, big yards and lots of traffic. Lots of switch engines and they put in radios and they just almost had a riot with the railroad employees because at any given time just about you could find a switch engine parked by the brewery. They'd take turns going up there to have a cool beer, free on the house of course. Then they'd put radios and that kind of put the kibosh, cause they couldn't hide out anymore. The Bamberger came in, you could—see one story leads to another. My wife during the war lived in Logan and her mother played the piano. Rachel could play the piano from 9 years old she was playing in dance bands, bought her own piano. Well in Brigham City at Bushnell Hospital they used to take—my wife and her mother would take the train, the Bamberger over the mountain to Brigham City. She'd entertain, my wife would sing and they'd entertain these guys who 19 were all shot up and god only knows. Anyhow you could take the train all the way to Salt Lake and when it came to Ogden the depot was behind the old post office, 24th street. You'd go north, Pete Vlahos bought that for his office, but then next there was a knitting mill there. Was it Ogden Knitting Mill? MY: Oh yeah. FY: Then the city bought that, the city school district bought that a part of that building or there's a space there. That was the terminal for the Bamberger. They'd come down Lincoln and swing in and unload and then start out. You had a Y right there on Lincoln just north of 24th street. They'd come in then back out and go to Salt Lake. They stayed on Lincoln until St. Joe's School was what? 28th? 29th? MY: Between 27th and 28th on Lincoln. FY: Now did the trolley run past St. Joes? MY: I'm trying to think if there were tracks down that way and I don't think there were. FY: Anyway somewhere down there they cut across, the cut across the Weber River where you take the 31st freeway. Somewhere in that freeway now is where they used to cross the thing and go down and ended up in Hill field. See most of that right away is under I-15, but that interchange on 31st by the freeway coming down from the airport, that was city dump. On the west side of the river was the city dump. MY: Cause there wasn't anything else out there. FY: No, nothing. Oh just sand hills and that was the city dump. 20 LR: So do you recall when the Bamberger stopped running? I wonder if that affected, if that was as big of an impact as when the trains stopped coming in. FY: Well no because see back, during WWII there was about 130 million people in this country. Now you got 330 million, not everybody had a telephone, not everybody had a car. Gas was 15 cents and a car was 500 bucks during the depression. Who the hell had 500 bucks? By the time the Bamberger quit freeways started, Eisenhower started that in the 50s and in the 60s you had pieces of it between here and Salt Lake. Transportation I don't think, was that big a problem because you had Trailways and you had Greyhound, but more people had cars in the 50s. Hell almost everybody had a car. See that puts a different light on it. When Bamberger started, that was in the depression days, public transportation had trolley cars in Ogden. My father-in-law drove a trolley car in Ogden and the yard was—I can remember when they started building houses in there. 27th or 28th above Adams under the hill there was about a half a block or maybe a little more was kind of flat. That was the yards for the trolley cars. They ran up and down Washington Boulevard and when I came to Ogden they had bus service, but there was a big strike. But they had buses running up and down Washington and I think they had one would go up to Harrison and another one would go to West Ogden. It was pretty rudimentary, but people used the bus. Hell I used the bus and Ogden then was like 40,000 people. You had—Wilson Lane was out in the country, but you had Pete's Café which is still there. You had I think taxi service then, but it was pretty limited. Then the trains quit see—I don't 21 know about 67 or 8—those railroads really went at it with a vengeance. Passenger service cost them money, they couldn't make money on people, service got bad. I'll tell you a little story about my mother. She liked taking the trains and she'd stop in Cheyenne to see my sister and then she'd take the train over to see me and then she had an old childhood chum living in California, Colusa, California. She would call from my house to talk to this lady and set up. They'd pick up my mother in Sacramento and she would ride the bus. She liked the bus cause it took you downtown and she liked the trains cause you went into town and you saw the backyards. I enjoyed the trains too for that reason. Anyhow my sister, I had a niece that died and she was nine. The only way my mother could get to the funeral from Pennsylvania to Cheyenne was fly. She was petrified, but she had to do it. After the funeral she came over and visited for a while and she said—now this was, god this had to be in early 60s I guess. Anyhow she said she was on the, at the airport, and she said people would take her by the arm and call her by name and say, "Now you come on, you stand here and if we can get you on this flight," she was flying stand by. She said, "Now you stand here and if there's a place on this plane you know we'll get you on there and if not we'll see about the next flight." She said everybody was so nice, they were friendly. She said every time somebody did that at the airport I thought about the conductors on the trains. "Are we on time," and they'd snarl at ya. 22 "When's the dining car open," and they'd snarl at ya. She started flying after that. She gave up on the railroad. I took a train in 1964 where I had to go through four cars to find a car where I could plug in an electric razor they were that decrepit. Plugged them in and nothing happened. LR: So it's not surprising that they just, it became— FY: I mean they were deliberately doing that. See of course what happened, coincidental with all that was the US Post Office started air mailing mail instead of using the railway mail cars. LR: That was one of the huge reasons why they stopped. FY: Well they had revenue see and the passengers they would put up with, but when the post office cut them out they figured hell these people are costing us money and they went after them. That mail was all sorted by hand and they ran regular runs. I left a message for Charles Trentelman, I didn't leave it in his voicemail because I got somebody at a gift shop. Got a voicemail at the gift shop at the depot and I said, "Tell Trentelman that there's a fellow working at the Ogden post office who started out as a railway mail clerk." So there's still some guy, and when I heard the guy said he's old he must be at least 70. Well yeah he would be. So the Bamberger I don't know when they quit, but they were probably losing money and glad they quit. LR: Something else you mentioned last time that I found fascinating was talking about drinking coffee with Marshall White. I can't remember the whole story anymore, but you talked about drinking coffee with Marshall White. 23 FY: Yeah he came to my house one day and we were visiting about something or other, I don't recall, but we had coffee. You know he was— LR: A decent fellow? FY: See we talked about, I told you about that story about being in the China Temple. LR: You said it was your one regret. FY: See in the context of time—at the time there was two of us. We had an early thing going at the packing house and this guy came in from Portland and I picked him up at the Ben Lomond and said, "Let's stop and have some breakfast." The only place open at 4:00 in the morning was the China Temple. We went in there and sat down and while we were waiting for our order these three colored fellows came in and sat down at the end of the counter, way down by the kitchen. The guy comes out and tells them we can't' serve you and they left. I didn't pay any attention and I told Lorrie my regret was that I didn't walk out, but at the time didn't think anything of it. It didn't take me, only like a couple hours or next day or something I got thinking, "Geez there I sit—some Chinese guy telling a black guy he can't serve him. MY: But it was the time. FY: You heard me talk about Lacey Jones you know, when your boy died who was there? Lacey MY: I have pictures of him holding Tommy. He came to—Tommy was probably a month old and I have— FY: What was her name? 24 MY: I know, ever since you said his name, Lacy and anyway, I have pictures of him in my living room holding my baby. Beautiful pictures. LR: When was this? MY: Oh, 1982. FY: My kids were raised—my wife, I'll tell you she had an occasion, I'm not going to go into much detail, but she had an occasion to be in a position where she was catering to the public. Couple of colored folks came in and sat down and my wife was—hey I can tell you she can attest to this—we're walking down Washington Boulevard and we're standing in front of Froerer Place on 26th for real estate, 26th and? MY: Washington. FY: Washington. I said, "Wait a minute I got to go in and talk to Fred about something," and when I come out she's visiting with some woman on the sidewalk. The lady left and I said, "Who was that?" She says, "I don't know." I could hear so I asked, "Well what was she telling you about her son-in-law or something?" She says, "I don't know, she just came up and started talking." Anyhow wife's very pleasant to these people and somebody said you're a nigger lover. She got the guy by the shoulder and threw him out. MY: I was surprised that's all she did. 25 FY: So see my kids were raised, we had no animus. That's why it bothered me later when I—hey that's, god that's 60 years ago nearly. LR: And it still bothers you? FY: And it bothers me. MY: I can see that. FY: See and then when I heard about Marshall White. They're chasing some kid, got out of reform school and they chased him into this house and the kid comes up out of the basement with a gun and shoots the guy right at the top of the stairs. MY: Well remember when the hi-fi shop thing all happened and you made Robert go pick Lacey up. LR: Now was that on 25th street? FY: No that was on? MY: About 23rd and Washington, but it was right next to Karamel Korn. My husband was working with his dad and this Lacey Jones we've been talking about, he worked there and because of the hi-fi shop thing and the blacks and stuff. Frank was afraid for Lacey because you know some people just— FY: What was her name? Camilia? Camilla? MY: I'm trying to think of Robert saying it. Lacey and. FY: She was quite the character. MY: They were great people. 26 FY: Well you know life, I look at it differently than when I was her age. When I was 18, a boy. MY: Well and there again I think it's the time. My dad grew up in the South. I was raised with a little different perspective, but I never understood why my dad was prejudice. I didn't get it. I'm like why? I don't get it. I still don't understand it, why? Just because somebody has different colored skin. I see it with my grandchildren. In fact my little grandson he'll be telling me about a friend or something and he'll say he's brown, but you know there's no ethnic type, he's black, he's Mexican, he's this. So is your mother when she's out in the sun. FY: We lived in Hawaii for a couple of years and favorite story, oh that picture there. I found your husband's face in there. MY: Oh did you find him? Cause he's the only little haole. FY: As a matter of fact we had Japanese neighbors. See this country is becoming like Hawaii, there's no majority. See even back when we were there whites were not a majority. Had some neighbor kids, my kids were like 7 or 8, 6 or 7, somewhere around there. They're watching a war movie on television and my wife told me this story. I don't remember what the movie was, but Robert can tell you. He's probably seen it a million times. Anyhow it was a Japanese soldier sneaking up on this American GI and one of the little Japanese neighbor boy says watch out for that Jap! That's become a family story because that's the way it was. The kids, my kids were raised and her kids I'm sure raised that's—but back 60 years ago it was different. 27 Now I went to school with black kids, back then we called them Negros or colored. I can remember I spent a summer—I was in New York 1945—I was in Time Square on VJ Day. I was in that mass of about a million people, never forget it. I used to take a train 2:00 in the morning through Harlem. I'd be the only white guy, but there was nobody on the train, only half a dozen people on the whole damn three car train. Going through Harlem never had any fears. I Went to school with folks from hell, all over. Now coming from the South I worked with a guy in Idaho, turned out good friends, he's dead now. Jimmy Mitchell was born in Nashville and I didn't find that out until several years after I knew him. I never heard the N word more than I did in Rexburg. In the first month I heard probably more than in my whole life before that. I told him I don't like it and he was good enough that he watched his tongue when he was around me and hopefully he improved on it with other people. He was born in Nashville, he came to Idaho as a boy, but his dad, for like all the time Jimmy was growing up until he got married, every summer they'd go back to Nashville. Second nature with him, like your dad. MY: It has to do with where you grow up. My mother grew up in Colorado. Her and her friend were the only white girls in their class, most of them were Mexican. So my mom was more open to you know, culture. FY: Pass that picture over LR: So moving on to a little more happy things, I was wondering if you had any more stories about 25th street you'd like to share? Cause I mean you've done a good job and you've been talking for almost two hours. 28 FY: I have? LR: I don't know if you realize that. FY: No, but I get wound up. See we've digressed. LR: And that's okay. So I was just wondering if you had any other stories or memories of 25th street you'd like to share? FY: Well I told you about my wife and the egg foo yung. LR: When she was pregnant? FY: Now those were the days when they made real egg foo yung, not this crap they're making now. It's like some kind of a mush. MY: I don't know what it is FY: Anyway I was telling Lorrie, many a morning at 1 or 2:00, the only place open, go to the China Temple. I'd take a sauce pan cause you didn't have takeout boxes like you do now. I'd go get egg foo yung. Well my kid was like I don't know a year old, just starting to talk, I don't know how old they are when they start. Anyhow I had some business at the Greyhound Depot where they had the bus. The buses used to have express and I had some business there and I parked and it was diagonal parking. She was there in the front seat with the kid and I said, "I'll be right out." When I come out she's laughing. Now she could laugh, she turned me the wrong way on a one way street once and a cop pulled me over MY: All she could do was laugh. 29 FY: All she could do. All I could say, "She told me to turn," that's another family story. She knows what's coming. Well anyhow I come out and she's laughing and I said, "What happened?" She said, "See that Chinese fellow going by?" "The Chinese guy?" "Yeah. Well when he went by he said dada." Anyhow now you've heard the story of my life maybe. I don't know about 25th street, spent many a night down there after partying I can tell you that. Sober up at the China Temple. LR: That seemed to be the, well it was always open so that was the spot. FY: Well I can tell you about 24th street. MJ: What was on 24th street? FY: Well I'll tell you about getting from 25th to 24th. On Lincoln, 25th and Lincoln, there's a hotel, used to be a stop on the Bamberger. They had a sign up, but in there Harry the Tailor had a tailor shop in one of those little stores. Harry was from Armenia or some Middle Eastern country and he was a hell of a good, old bachelor. He had a barber shop, I mean a tailor shop. Anyhow we'd go up to Grant and you went past the hotel and in the middle of the block was Johnny Marsh's, the bug man, he was a pest control guy. John Marsh, and he had a sign, bughouse with a caterpillar on the top. I wonder what ever happened to that sign. Wonder if someone has it in their basement or out in a barn? 30 Then there seems to me like there was a big green building, concrete or masonry or something. Was like a wholesale, it was a pale green. Anyhow there was also a place in there, we all thought it was the Chinese lottery. It was a store front and they had like teller windows in there. It was Chinese and I don't know, might have been some kind of a thrift club or business. We all thought it was a Chinese lottery where you went in, but every time I went by the door was open, but I never saw anyone in there. That was the story that it was a Chinese lottery. Over on 24th street and there's an empty lot now next to the Berthana, used to be the Dinner Horn, was a grocery store. Then going west there was a gas station and when that folded it turned into a locksmith and Lester Pelton learned his business. MY: Wasn't it Vicks? FY: Was it Vicks? MY: I think it was Vicks. FY: It was a—they had a locksmith in there and this kid we know learned his trade in there. Next was the Grant Hotel and Grant Tap Room. Japanese, lot of Japanese in there. Then next was Minnie, don't know her last name, she was a barber. She came and interned during the war and she was a Buddhist. She played a mean poker game and she made a mean stir fry. She used to invite us out to the Buddhist festival every year. Next was Sakarada Fish Market. Then there was HJ Bonnie, turkey broker, and he raised turkeys. Now in those days where Wal-Mart is on 21st, 20th, there was a turkey processor there. Bonnie had an interest in that or maybe it was his. Then they turned it into a cold storage and then tore it down 31 for Wal-Mart. Then there was Richard's Sheet Metal—had apartments. We had one and the reason we had one well we had a little dog, little Corgi. Familiar with a Corgi? LR: No. FY: Queen Elizabeth raises Corgies, little. That nice place on 24th and Monroe that's supposed to be a Frank Lloyd Wright house, that was an apartment house. They wouldn't rent us an apartment cause we had a little dog. We lived at Richard's until we could find a place and parked in the back 50 bucks a month, everything but lights. Hot water, heat. LR: Wow, all for 50 bucks a month. FY: Then across the street the motel is still there. Now they call it the Westward Ho or something. Down on the corner where the old shaver mart is, Bob Hinds, H-I-N- D-S had a Conoco Station. Next to Richard's there was a lumber yard, don't remember the name, but I think it began with a B. MY: Burton, was it Burton's? FY: Could be. MY: Burton had a lumber place. FY: I can't remember what was next down to the corner. But Crittenden Paint still there, that building's still there. That restaurant I guess that's been a restaurant for a million years. Then you came up 24th street you had the Dinner Horn, you had the Berthana, there was a bar in there. MY: The Lighthouse Lounge. 32 FY: That was it, The Lighthouse huh? Okay. Good timing for your visit here. Then you hit Kiesel and the Kiesel Building, there were two dentists in there. I knew—I mean there might have been more but there were two dentists and they would cover each other. So I knew both, one was Reuben Clark who was kind of a milk toast type guy. You know milktoast? Well see years ago there was a comic strip called Milquetoast, also at that time was Maggie and Jiggs and the Toonerville Trolley, see that dates me. What you gals got to do is start looking up some of this stuff because Toonerville Trolley had a guy on there, they called it Terrible Temper Mr. Bang and he was always mad. I have a son who we referred to occasionally as "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," cause he can talk himself into a mad and we'd say, "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," he has no idea what we are talking about. Anyhow the other guy was something Turner. Anyhow he used to be an engineer and then decided he wanted to be a dentist and as much as Reuben Clark was a milktoast he was the macho. I mean he'd cuss a blue streak if he had to, you know, something went wrong. He told a story once about—he was hunting and he'd go working up this sidehill and he gets to the top, and there's some guy there laying on the ground and looking over at things. He says, "I told him that was a hell of a climb." He says, "Yeah, I noticed you had a little bit of a problem here and there. I had you in my scope all the time." He said, "You had me in your scope?" "Yeah," he said. 33 "Is that gun loaded?" He says, "Yeah," He said, "I beat the crap out of him." That's the kind— LR: Well I can understand that. FY: Reuben Clark to quote my wife, "he wouldn't say it if he had a mouthful." Then across the street was the Finer Foods Café and next to it was the Finer Tap Room. If you went down the café, they were narrow. They went down toward the kitchen, there was a door that took you into the Tap Room. Then at the Eccles Building up on the corner was a Walgreen's. MY: Cause the door you went in on the corner. FY: See Walgreen's. MY: They had a little lunch counter. LR: Is this on Grant then? FY: Well every drug store had a counter. MY: No it'd be on Washington. FY: Washington, under the Eccles Building. There's a hotel there now. Walgreen's always had a corner. They had a place across from that Crossroads Mall. First night in Salt Lake I had a cup of coffee right across the street from the temple. I flew out, stewardess is telling me all about the Salt Lake and the Mormons and they don't drink and they don't smoke. I spent the night in Salt Lake so I'd catch the bus the next day to Logan cause I was going to school up there. I walk 34 around, first thing I stay at that little hotel, it's on South Temple between Main and State and it's still there. Just little cozy, I don't know 8 or 10 rooms, it's probably a fancy apartment house now. Anyhow I walked in, walked around, typical Walgreen's. They sold cigarettes and cigars and pipe tobacco and coffee and they had a lunch counter and people sitting there smoking and drinking coffee. Then I walked around and ran into two cigar stores within a couple of blocks and I'm wondering what is she talking about? Anyhow I had her phone number and I called her. Tried to set up a date. MJ: No luck? FY: No, you know why? I wasn't Mormon. Well I sort of learned how it worked. It took me a while, but anyhow that was my introduction to Utah. It was a DC 3 and one of the two roughest places to fly in the country is Denver to Salt Lake and the other one is from Washington D.C. somewhere over the Appalachians I can't remember. Anyhow D.C. 3 21 passengers, it was full, served us a nice meal and then we hit the turbulence. The stewardess comes by, got plenty of food if you want it. God I could smell this puke. God that was a rough trip. MY: Now what did you start up at? FY: 46. So anyhow let's see we were on 24th street. You had the First Security Bank and across the street was W.T. Grant, pink sandstone, a red sandstone. My father-in-law helped build that and he said they poured concrete with wheelbarrows and they went up wheelbarrow at a time. Then that became ZCMI. 35 LR: There was a ZCMI in Ogden? MY: Right where the Weber place is. FY: They had a walkway over to the mall over Nordstrom's. LR: When was the ZCMI in Ogden? FY: Well I'm looking at that Ogden Hikes thing and the J.C. Penney building was ZCMI and then they, I guess shut down and left. Then came back after W.T. Grant. See 24th, Washington Boulevard between 25th and 24th street you had— MY: L.R. Samuel's. FY: Aurbach's. MY: Well L.R. Samuels to begin with. FY: Yeah, then Aurbach's. MY: Then Freddy Aurbach married the Samuels girl. FY: Then you had there was a men's store next to the— MY: Fred M. Nye? FY: No I'm talking on the west side. There was—I got a suit hanging in the closet I think came from them. Next to the bank, next between the bank and the Egyptian or the other side of the Egyptian, anyhow you had Keeley's Restaurant. MY: Smalley's Jewelry was right by the bank. FY: The men's store was probably on the north side of the bank. Anyhow you had restaurants and on the other side you had Nye's and when they closed I think 36 that's when Buehler Dunn, and Branz opened. You had Blocks in there, Blocks was an Idaho, small Idaho chain. Very upscale and kind of a department store, mostly men. Then when you went over to J.C. Penney you had Payless Drug and you could get in from Kiesel. Then you had in a row you had Newberry's, Woolworth and Grant, no W.T. Grant was across the street. Woolworth, Kresge three 5 and dimes, then there were assorted businesses. MY: Skagg's was downtown. FY: Well that was Payless. Ensign Drug was along in there. Every drug store had a lunch counter. MJ: Oh we are just about, the battery is just about out. FY: You want to plug in? MJ: Yeah. FY: There's a plug in. Marva, MY: Is it in the bedroom? FY: Yeah, one in the bedroom there. MJ: Most of the time I just plug it in automatically, but I thought we'd be okay with the battery cause it was just charged. FY: Then you went down the end of the block was Sear's. They had on the Kiesel Avenue side an auto, 3 bay auto. They changed oil and stuff like that. They moved and that was the end of the downtown. Cross from Sear's you had Firestone, had a big store, I think it's a bank now. 37 MY: It's Zion's Bank. FY: Then across the street was Reliable Furniture. Was it Reliable? MY: There was a Reliable. You know who owned Reliable? Herscowitz, Sam Herscowitz because my mom worked for his wife when he and his brother owned Reliable Furniture. FY: Well it became then Wolfe Sporting Goods and next to the Firestone store that would be on the east side between 23rd and 24th coming south, was Madsen Furniture. That dinet set came from Madsen Furniture when we were living up on Binford. My kids were in high school, that has to be over 40 years and I refuse to buy a new one. My sister has for years said, "Why don't you know it's wearing out." She insisted my mother buy a new coat and she died. She insisted her husband buy a new suit, he says no way Jose. He said, "Looked what happened to your mother," and that's why I won't buy a new dinette, cause the odds—the longer I wait the odds get better, but yeah that was Madsen Furniture. MY: Sav On was down there, Sav On Sporting Goods. FY: Well on 24th now, let's go. MY: But it was between 22nd and 23rd. FY: Let's go down 24th street now from W. T. Grant, cross the street J. C. Penney. Next door was I think Klenke, K-L-E-N-K-E Hardware. MJ: Were they connected to Klenke Floral? FY: I don't know. 38 MY: I have no idea. FY: But this old guy and his daughter ran that store. I think when they wrecked that they probably destroyed it. What a store, they had a ladder on a truck. Bins all the way to the ceiling and if you went in there for like a number 10 flathead screw they—everything came bulk in those days. If you went in and asked for whatever, they could go get it and they knew where it was, they'd move the ladder, climb up, open the drawer. Great. Then there was a Haberdasher open on the corner later. Can't remember his name, but then cross the street was Read Brothers, big place, but with a horse on top. Now I'm going to tell you, I don't know if you know about the horse. Some guy one night climbed up there somehow painted that black horse brown. That horse was black, it was patterned or supposed to have been a replica of a famous Ogden horse called Old Nig. Does that tell you anything? It's a black horse, Old Nig. Then next to that was, there was—later on it became Sunset Sporting Goods, but next to that was Kammeyer's, had the big old wooden gun out front. Remember that? No pictures of that? They had a big rifle made out of wood it was about, god, had to be 6 or 8 feet. Kammeyer's Sporting Goods and then next was the church. Kammeyer's, I think one of those boys became an obstetrician/gynecologist here in Ogden, working. Dr. Kammeyer. Then there was the church, then across the street was the post office. Now it you went south from the Dinner Horn there was the Bamboo Noodle, good place. Then you came to Dokas's, and then there was a building there, old brick building that had tile. 39 Had a garage door and tile, blue and white, but I used to call bathroom tile. It was that little hex and in the middle of that white, Browning. LR: So that's on, I actually know where this building is. That's the one on Grant. MY: So the Federal Building— LR: In between 24th? FY: 24th/23rd. Well it's on the east side of 24th or the east side of Grant and north of 24th. See we started at the Dinner Horn which was on 24th, now wait a minute. MY: Wasn't that Browning next to where the Federal Building is? FY: Yeah MY: The Federal Building's here and then you go north on Grant and Browning's was right there. LR: Well there were two Browning buildings. They kind of faced—their backs were to each other. One was on Kiesel and one was on Grant. So the one you're talking about? FY: Has to be on 24th then, between 24th and 23rd MY: No it was 24th and 25th. FY: It has to be 24th/25th because the church is on 24th going to 23rd. Dokas was in there somewhere and there was— MY: It was Browning and then Dokas. FY: There was a commercial building with a garage door. 40 LR: That's the one on Grant. FY: Yeah and it had, in front of the door, it had an apron. Blue trim, it was oblong and it had blue edging and a white—in the white it said Browning and it was that tile, that little 6 sided tile. LR: You'll be happy to know that they actually restored that building and that's still there, that tile. FY: It is? I have to go down and somehow, but hell you know I can't walk anymore. MY: We'll have to get you a chair. LR: The one on Kiesel it's long gone. FY: Yeah that's where Pete found the Browning workshop and gave it to the Depot. Now I was in Nauvoo and I saw the old original Browning workshop, had a personal tour of that building. They've done great work with it, with Nauvoo. I stopped there, I was on this spot and I had some neighbors who were doing a mission there. I found them, funny I'm living in Rexburg and I pull in to Nauvoo, and that's way before the temple was restored and all that, and I'm looking around and there's a few buildings here and there. I see a couple of people raking leaves in front of this brick building and it turns out to be their headquarters or office or something. I pulled up and I hollered out the window, "Hello there!" The lady comes over I say, "I'm looking for the Cazier, would you know where they are?" She says, "I don't know where they are, but wait a minute," and she walked in and come out with a binder, everybody's schedule. "Well he's down at 41 the blacksmith shop and she's over at the tinkers place." So she directs me and I got down to the blacksmith shop and I walked in on a presentation. Anyway after the presentation they handed out horseshoe nail rings to the kids and I said to Gale, "Geez, can I have one of those? I had one when I was a kid," and I got that somewhere. I looked at it not too long ago here. Anyhow I said, "I used to have one," so he gave it to me and I wore and I stopped on that trip, I stopped in Cheyenne and my brother was there. I was telling him, I said, "Here's what I brought." Bill looks at it, says, "Gee I had one of them when I was a kid." Every kid had one of them cause they had blacksmith and they still had some horses around. Anyhow they just bent a nail around a pipe, but anyhow I have that ring somewhere and it's been 15 years ago since I got that. I visit with Gale and I said, "Where's Yvonne?" He says, "She's over at the tinkers I'll take you," so we go over to the tinkers. She says she's embarrassed standing there with cue cards, 3 by 5 cards. "I just got assigned here yesterday, this is my first day. Up until now I was over at the Browning workshop." She was nervous as all get out. I said, "Well I'll tell you what Yvonne, I'm alone nothing to worry about you know me, be comfortable, make your pitch." She went through it, had to make a few references and she says, "Well that wasn't so hard." Anyhow then she took me over to the Browning place, just 42 the two of us, and they got us in there and out in the garden—a lot of these places they'd planted gardens. Tomato plants, lettuce, eggplant you know and they feed themselves. I mean they had these gardens and they keeps the weeds down and all these missionaries have fresh produce all through the summer. Then they took me—I had a little personal tour, saw a few things that most visitors don't get to see, but doing a bang up job. They have a land office and I didn't understand the land office until I left. I had another neighbor, who was a day behind me and when he came back we got comparing notes. The land office has the original plans of Nauvoo, and if you tell them who you're interested in—My wife's great grandfather, I got a deed or not a deed but a copy of a deed and a location on the town plat of where he lived and he lived about two blocks from Joseph Smith. Now it's right downtown, Nauvoo. A lot of motels and souvenir shops, but the rest of it, they're doing a bang up job. What's not there anymore, right across the street on the corner from the old temple, was the headquarters of the reorganized church. The church finally bought them out a few years ago, but they had a nice modern brick building and they were on one corner. This office I stopped at was just up on the other block on another corner and they've restored the temple. I was able to see where the fount was, they had a well in there and some of those sunstones were still laying around. Anyhow I don't know if we got off subject. LR: It's okay. I hate to be the one to say put the brakes out, but you've worn me out. I was worried about wearing you out and you've done the exact opposite. I haven't had lunch yet. 43 FY: Well I'll tell you what. I've got a pot of lentils and I'll be glad to share them because I hate leftovers. LR: Ok. For not being an Ogden native you sure know a lot about the buildings, why is that? FY: Cause I like history. See I took a course at Weber State one time on Utah history and it was taught by this Hispanic fellow. I don't remember his name now. Anyhow I can tell you about places wherever I've gone see. I can tell you things. I lived in Star Valley for a while. I know where the old Oregon Trail passed through the valley. I can take you there, I'm sure it's still there. I think if they widened the road they went that a way see. I followed Louis and Clark from St. Louis to Fort Clatsop, except where you had to go on a boat. Through Nebraska and that country there, there's not much to see, but from Fort Mandin all over, pretty much all of it. I've been to Lemhi Pass, I got the journals here, I read it and copied the original journals, I've seen them. God they're great big I don't know how many. I have my brother, one brother, he found some old 16 mm movies that we had when we were kids and he gave them to a guy and he was able to salvage about 15 or 20 minutes. Some are home movies, some are old movies that we used to buy. You know we had no TV and I had a crank that you could buy things. Saw Felix the Cat and few things. Got all of that on DVD. Wherever I've gone, I know the history from where I was born. I know see I grew up in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia was 90 miles away. When I moved to California for a couple of years, I'd been on most every mission from San Diego to Sonoma. Some of them weren't much but wrecks when I saw them and now 44 most of them have been restored, but I went to that mission in Carmel. I'm shocked, got a big sign about Father Serra saying mass on the 4th of July, 1776. That was an enlightenment, I knew July 4th Philadelphia, the Liberty Bell you know. Same time the Spanish were out there, they're planting gardens and converting the natives. So I can tell you a lot about California and I can tell you about the Civil War. What I should have been is a historian. Start of Part II, July 23, 2013. FY: I'd like to start. We were on 24th street, we talked about Kammeyer's and the big gun out front, the sign? LR: Yes we did. FY: Smith and Edward's bought Kammeyer's. If you got in touch with Bert Smith I bet you could find that gun. LR: Is he still alive? FY: Oh yeah. 93 years old and he's alive. In fact he gave a presentation on the avenging Angel, what's his name? Porter Rockwell, to a group it was in the paper like I don't know month, six weeks ago. So he's alive and well. He bought Kammeyer's and he owned it when they shut it down. Bet that sign is out there at Smith and Edward's or maybe at his home or somewhere. I'm sure—not Bert he wouldn't throw it away. You know he bought the old Swift building. LR: Where you used to work? 45 FY: 60,000 bucks he paid for that old place and he told me he said, "I feel good. When I feel good about a deal it means I made a good deal." Hell he probably got his 60,000 bucks back just in the salvage on the first month or so. Cause he opened it, he rented different parts, he put holes in the wall and gave access. He rented out the garage and he punched a hole in the wall and the curing cellars became—the last I saw it a guy was selling boats in there. I don't know if he sold them or maintained them or he had a dealership or something. He sold two new boilers. They'd brought in the newest boiler was probably a year old, the other one probably two or three years old. Probably got 60 grand right there. LR: So where was the Swift building? FY: Just across the yards on 24th. Hey there's some great pictures in here and we're going to go through these pictures. FY: Anyhow here's a picture of 25th street [Frank is looking at pictures from Ogden City: It's Government Legacy]. See in the 20s there were trolley cars. LR: But that's not the Bamberger? FY: No that's a trolley car, that's a city system and I read in here what I didn't know. They had six routes. You know I told you my father-in-law used to drive one of them. That's how come my wife was born at the Cobble Cottage in 1927 cause he was down here, He was down here driving. Anyhow they had six routes, 24 miles. I didn't knowhit was that extensive, but there's the Healy Hotel and here's that building that's still here. Anyhow the Royal Hotel used to be the Arcadia. 46 LR: So here's a question for you and maybe you know. I've always thought that Porter's and Waiter's wasn't its own individual building. That it was underneath— FY: It was the downstairs. It was a bar and it was an afterhours club and there was like a shooting or knifing about twice a week in there. Now I never went in the place when it was that, but you know the guy that went up on the roof to look over at the sunbathers, he used to go in there frequently. The upstairs was the hotel and they catered to the black employees from the railroad which were mostly porters and waiters. See the dining cars—all the waiters were black, stewards were white. So when you gave an order in the dining car you wrote it out from the menu and they filled the order then they brought you the bill and you gave them the money and the steward handled all the money. Now those people—Ogden was a junction see between [audio missing]. LR: Hopefully it will be in business now. FY: Okay we were talking about the porters and waiters. Ogden was the—I don't remember what they used to call it. It was the end of the run, see they changed crews and these guys had to have a place to stay. We talked about the situation and there's a picture in here of Read's with the horse up on top. I was told by someone that horse is out on west 12th street in front of some veterinary's place. Anyhow they called the place the porters and waiters club and in fact in those days 25th street—this tells after it got cleaned up it went downhill fast just like I was telling you. Lot of transients moved in and there's a picture in here of the old Shupe Williams candy factory. I'd forgotten about that, it's on 26th and Wall. Big four story, they were a big candy company and they shut down I don't know. 47 They were running when I came and then some transients got in there as usually happens, burned the damn place down. Directly north now we're talking on the west side of Wall Avenue, directly north across 26th street was the old Union Pacific Laundry. Well when the trains quit running they didn't need the laundry anymore. Then next to that was railway express agency. You remember the railway express wagons with the great big wheels? I'm sure they have one or two at the depot. They were baggage carts. They met the trains and they'd off load baggage and freight. They were huge wheels, and you know guys would pull them by hand or push them. Those buildings are gone and then on the other side was the freight station, that's gone too. Now across the street we got the Healy Hotel identified and well we'll go around the corner. There was a place called Ketchum Builder's Supply and a big one story low building. I can remember driving down there for something on a Saturday when the Teton Dam broke cause I listened to it on the radio. I had no idea about where it was or what it was, but geez you know that was 1976. What is that now? Pushing 50 years, 45/40. LR: Yeah 45. FY: So how time flies. That buildings gone. Next to this was Goddard's. Goddard was an industrial supply. The brick building is still there. Next was Scowcroft's on Wall Avenue. LR: heading towards 26th? 48 FY: Heading towards 24th. We're going around the corner from the Healy. It was Ketchum, then Goddard, then Scowcroft. Scowcroft was a big whole sale—dry goods and food wholesaler. I think they've saved that building, I think it's on the national historic register. What I remember about it last time I saw it, they had that you could still see the advertising on the outside. They made overalls, now you've heard of Osh Kosh B'Gosh? Well they had Can't Bust 'em, that was their brand. One of the Scowcroft's if he's still alive, the General Scowcroft used to be an intelligence guy for George, first George Bush. Brent Scowcroft he was born here. He's a Scowcroft from that family and that building I think has been restored. Now it's cross the street from the Transit you know. The railroad, frontrunner, depot the travel. What do they call it? LR: The park and ride FY: You know and they have the buses. Then you come up 24th street and I think Anderson Lumber was in there. See now you're under the viaduct and you're now coming up the south side of 24th street to Wall Avenue. Now we're at Lincoln and we're going backwards up from that lumber company, Richard's, the turkey guy, the fish market, the Grant tap, and then the Dinner Horn. Now go across the street to the church and start going east, that's where you ran into Kammeyer's, next to the church. Then Sunset Sporting Goods was in there but there was something before that I don't recall. Then you ran into Read, leather people. Then you crossed Kiesel and it was a couple of businesses and the hardware store I told you about and J.C. Penney's, which according to this book, used to be ZCMI before 1900. Now cross Washington 49 Boulevard there was the W. T. Grant and you went up the hill to St. Joseph's Church and look at this picture. This I think is 24th street, there's the bend on 24th, freeway is out here and see here's a spur. That's the one that goes up to the elevators. There's packing house, there's the big livestock pavilion and here's the stock yards. LR: So this is where they would do the auctions? FY: Yeah, and that's where they had the stock show. See and here's the viaduct. LR: So this would be Union Station? FY: No the Union Station would be over here. LR: Oh this is 24th okay. FY: It'd be around here, 25th would be up here. That's 24th, that's got to be stairs to the station. LR: Well if the freeway is over here 25th has to be right here. FY: Oh no, the other way, okay you're right. LR: You can actually see where it ends right there. FY: I was going the wrong direction. LR: This is Wall and that's 25th and that looks like the Ben Lomond. FY: And the depot would be over here. I don't know when they viaduct was built but there's an interesting picture in here that has a Grandview Acres. This was war housing. They were two story duplexes, still around I think. They were at about 38th and Quincy or somewhere and there was a lady lived downstairs, her 50 grandfather used to manage that place. We were talking one time and I said I probably knew him because my wife and I looked out there to buy one of those duplexes. I guess it's still there, but there's another small world story see. Now see here's this, here's another picture. Like on the cover, here's 24th street, there's that big bend and here's where Del Monte was. LR: The Cannery? FY: The elevators were here. The packing house and the yards. Now in this picture the viaduct was there. Now there's the Broom Hotel which was built about 1880 something and this was 1920, a war parade. But you look at it you notice all the window blinds are even. You know it was in great shape. Well when they finally tore it down, had to be around 1960 or late 50s it was pretty decrepit. LR: It didn't look nearly as good? FY: It was kind of just abandoned and they built the bank. Oh here, here's one. Here's Washington boulevard, you remember I told you, see this is before the Ben Lomond, but there's the Orpheum theater. LR: See I thought the Orpheum was on 25th street. FY: No, the Orpheum was right there next to Ben Lomond. It's a state office building now. This was the old city hall, I don't remember that but anyhow remember I told you about the shoe store, right there. And these two little buildings between were there in the 70s. LR: now it's a parking lot. 51 FY: Yeah, next to the hotel. But there's visual evidence and you can—St. Joseph back in the 20s, that's also on the historic register. LR: Well it sounds like you enjoyed skimming through that. FY: Oh here, Sacred Heart Academy. I mentioned the girls school, 25th and Quincy. The nuns ran this and really some of these details I picked—they had 600 boarding students, all girls and every prominent Mormon pretty much sent their girls to St. Anne's for their education. It was the place, but what I found interesting in here is these nuns were from St. Mary's in South Bend, Indiana. There was a college there, St. Mary's College. You see now I got to look this up. Is Notre Dame what used to be St. Mary's College? I'm talking back 1878 when the nuns first came here see. That's how things build. They came out—St. Joseph's Catholic School, oldest school continuing in the whole state—started 1878 by these nuns on the corner. Now according to this, Utah Bank, Bank of Utah, southwest corner of 26th and Washington, anyhow they tore that down and we talked about this yesterday. Remember we talked about all the doctors who were downtown, mostly in the First Security Building. Well when they abandoned the school somebody got in there and turned it into a professional mall and that's when the doctors started leaving and getting spread around town. Which was another stake in the heart of downtown because that had to be, it's in here somewhere, 1960 or something like that. So those are some of the details. Here's Weber College, when the church gave it to the state. I understand they tore that building down. Now why the hell would they tear that down? 52 LR: It's the American mentality unfortunately. FY: Now stands an empty lot there. The city school district, Ogden City School District got this property and their offices there; it's on, what is it, Adams and 26th or something? I think it's across from the forest service. Anyhow the building on the corner is still there, but this was next and it's gone. LR: But the one with the WC on the façade? FY: I think. LR: I've driven past it a couple of times, they're doing some work on it right now. FY: Well anyhow there's the Shupe Williams Candy Company. LR: And this is the one on Wall and? FY: 26th. Now see that was on the southwest corner, now you're coming this way on Wall. You cross the street here and you ran into the Union Pacific Laundry and now that's where they have some of those old cars. Now transients burned this thing down. Now they're doing the same thing, I see in the paper they had a couple of fires this winter. They have a couple of old wooden railroad cars down there they got for restoration and they've run transients out because they've set them on fire trying to keep warm. That's what burned down that grocery store and I think the name was Nicholas, the grocer. Nicholas Grocer. LR: That actually makes sense, I recall that name. FY: During that period when 25th street was skid row, lot of those upstairs, you know they were a lot of hotels and rooming houses and stuff. Some old wino got cold in the middle of the night and lit a fire under the sink and burned the damn place 53 down. What I'm trying to find is that picture of the bridges across the Weber River down by the packing house. In here they mentioned Clix. LR: Is that a gas station? FY: Well Clix, his name was Clarence Swanner and he had a gas station on 26th and Grant I think it was. Northeast corner, Clicks Service. How come you're familiar with Clix Service? LR: I interviewed a gentleman whose grandfather owned it originally and sold it to the Swanners. FY: Well Clicks died at a 103 and he's mentioned in here playing cards or playing marbles on 25th street when he was a kid. Well see when he was a kid, he was probably born1895 or something, and so when he was playing marbles down there it was probably pretty much like the rest of Ogden, just rough frontier town. Here's a picture of the yards. I'll tell you what I did. I called my kid up last night and I went through this with him. LR: Would that be Marva's husband? FY: Yeah, cause we talked about these places. See there's the viaduct, don't know when that was built. This is 29th street, here's the elevators on 29th. You know where you go around them when you get on the freeway you go down 30th. These are the elevators see. That's 29th street LR: So this would be the station here? FY: No this is the Ice House and this here is where they, used to ice the reefers. LR: So where's the station? 54 FY: I can remember when they used to do that. LR: Ice the reefers? FY: Refrigerated cars had ice. Both ends had bunkers with hatches on the top and they'd run these refrigerated cars down there and they'd put ice out of the Ice House and they had a belt would run the ice. Guys would walk along the train, lift the hatch if they needed ice, they'd throw in a couple of 100 pound blocks and they iced every refrigerated train that went through here. Then they went to mechanical refrigeration and they tore this out, but the Ice House is still there. Here's 24th street, so the depot has got to be over and around here somewhere, but look at all the trackage. There was a Y out here. Train coming in from the east would pull into the station and then when it was leaving for the west it would back out and that Y is gone long time ago. See when I first came this was all active, there's the Southern Pacific Roundhouse. I had a neighbor, was a Southern Pacific engineer, and oh there's the old Bamberger train, probably at Lagoon. Here's the stock yards. Now see there's the packing house, just started out as American, as Ogden Packing, then went to American Packing and Provision then Swift bought them in 1949. LR: So that's where you worked? FY: Yeah and this was the ramp where they drove the livestock and here's these two bridges and I'm trying to find the picture. We were talking about Clix, he remembered when they put that bridge in and the bridge is still there and it's got a plaque on it, who built it, who installed it, when they installed it, all that information. Here it is, see. Now this was taken—there's no viaduct and the 55 packing house was probably in there somewhere maybe at this time it was probably pretty small. Here's the railroad bridge, this is the bridge Clix remembers when they installed it. It's over the Weber River and on this side of it there's a plague and you can still see it. Here's the road bridge that goes out Wilson Lane, that took you—see on this picture 24th street see came across and there's Wilson Lane and here's that spur that comes up to the elevators. So I don't know when they built the viaduct, but prior to that you had to cross the tracks and I imagine like on most railroad crossing back in those days that they'd have a guy come out with a sign, stop traffic while the trains went by. LR: Getting back to 24th street, did we finish 24th street then? FY: Yeah I think we did. Now we could go around the corner on 24th and Lincoln and go to the Iron Works, Ogden Iron Works is now where the ballpark is. The Ogden Iron Works was big, now I didn't notice anything in there, I could've missed it. By then it got pretty extensive. But I think they had something to do with the Golden Gate bridge, it was fabricated, all types of steel and stuff. That was going and the can company was going and Del Monte was going and the packing houses, we had three of them and they were all going. The railroads, you know things were booming. This was a going town and it distresses me to go downtown, I drive down 24th street. The First Security Banks empty, the Wells Fargo cross the street big signs space to let, and you go down where the church tore down and the old Travelodge hotel/motel all that's empty space. Then you go over here by Rite Aid down on 24th street, well kiddy-corner to Rite Aid is old Wheelwright Lumber, all abandoned. See it used to be 56 lumberyards were downtown, Anderson Lumber was down there and Wheelwright was there just on Adams or Monroe, somewhere in there. That place we talked about, I can't remember what Marva called it. LR: Burton. FY: Burton, that was downtown. The town I come from up in Rexburg, Boise, Cascade, still right downtown. Anderson Lumber left, but that's the way it was. All this space, there's urban blight, we got it. Now what they're starting to do, I read it and I see it, they've done some preliminary work. The city is going to open Fowler Avenue between 24th and 23rd and they're going to put 28 homes in the middle of that block. They've already cut down all the trees and I think the power company's run a couple of lines in. Then you know they have historic districts now and I can remember, that was probably 20 years ago, when they were selling homes to somebody for a buck or 100 bucks, for very little money if you'd restore them. Some of those neighborhoods are starting to come back, but lots of empty places. You go down on Washington Boulevard, lot of places they got business, strip malls. You know they got some of these big buildings, you see them advertising like stock broker, 24 or something suite 8. Well those were all big stores and businesses and there's a picture in here of 25th and Washington. LR: While you're looking let me ask you a question. So with the railroad stopping in the 70s, you talked about how it just kind of died. What do you think is bringing it back? Is helping it kind of become more of the city, the industrial, not industrial. You know what I'm trying to ask? I don't think I'm doing a very good job. 57 FY: I don't think it's coming back that fast. See it was diverse, Riverdale was all farms. You had, like everybody else you had urban sprawl. Everybody wanted to move out. Well that's bad but then when the businesses start moving out which is what happened with the Newgate Mall. When Stephen Dirks—he was talking about a mall before the Newgate Mall. They all downplayed it in the council chamber I guess. When they started Sear's was already gone, Woolworth's was already gone and probably several other places were gone. See you had there on one block, these were all like five and dime stores: W. T. Grant, you had Woolworth, Kresge, Newberry, I'm missing one. They were all there between 24th and 23rd on Washington. Then down—you know it had all kinds of stores. Cross's Western Wear was down there, we mentioned Reliable Furniture which later became Wolf. LR: You mentioned Reliable Furniture, yes. Isn't that where you got your— FY: No that's Madsen. Now Madsen is gone, they're gone but they're still in Salt Lake. I see them advertised on TV, Madsen Furniture. We were talking about that dinette set, over 40 years old and I'm still here and that's still here and Madsen's gone. Then, just come to mind. I think it was right next to the Episcopal Church. J.W. Brewer, tire company. I think he was on Grant. LR: He had a brief stint in the Browning Building, the one on Kiesel. It was only for a year and it was— FY: He sold appliances in there and I knew the guy who ran it, Sandy. Anyhow he ended up he was managing the Ben Lomond Hotel for a while and Cal Rampton was governor. When Cal Rampton would come to Ogden they'd take a room for 58 him there and Sandy what the hell was his name? He stocked it with a corncob pipe and some tobacco for the governor. It will come to me about 1:00 in the morning, but then he ran J. W. Brewer's I think, before he managed the hotel. He was on—I remember the store, it was a big store, J. W. Brewer tire. For a while he was like, not Les Schwab cause he's too big, but like Jack's Tire out of Logan. See Jack's Tire started in Logan, got a big place here and I don't know, they probably got a few others. J. W. Brewer had a couple, 3 locations and he was starting to build—I don't know whatever happened, but he was on Kiesel or Grant north of 24th I think. I remember the big store, big glass front. That was way before Big O, but there was a Firestone Store, that was his competitor. They were on 23rd and Washington, across from Reliable. Then I think Dar Larsen and a bunch of guys started a bank and their office was just up the hill from Washington on 23rd or 22nd and I can't remember the name of the bank, but they went defunct. Dar Larsen was Pepsi Cola. LR: That plant was on? FY: 17th and Washington. LR: I thought they had one on 25th street, the PepsiCo plant. I could be wrong. FY: Well they're going to tear that place down. It's now—I don't know what it is now— but it was a disco. It's right there by the river and they're going to tear it down. City is going to sell it to 7-11, they're going to put a 7-11 store there. Anyhow he and a bunch of guys started a bank and I can't remember what they called it, but it fizzled. I didn't recall seeing that in here, course I did a lot of skipping when it 59 looked familiar. Their office was just up the hill from Washington, somewhere on the north side of 23rd or 22nd, probably 23rd street. Standard Examiner was up on Adams and I think 23rd, that's where it was when Abe Glassman was running it. He had a farm that's now Smith's out on 41st and Harrison, that was the Glassman farm. For years they held out, they were developing all around and Glassman, I don't know he had about 40 acres in there, all gone. LR: I guess I should mention that I wanted you to talk about Kramer's, Kramer's Hot Dogs. I've heard a lot about it and would love to get your take. FY: It was, I don't know maybe the front end of a private home, but you walked up on the sidewalk and there was a window, Kramer's Hot Dogs and Hamburgers. The synagogue's in there, they must still have a synagogue in town, on 27th something Grant. Well that was about next door to Kramer's. Yeah they served— then further down was Utah Bottling where when they quit bottling they served beer and now I think there's apartments back in there. I can remember when they served schooners. Yeah I had more than one in there, nice cool plenty of parking. Kramer's was just a walk up storefront, it was—I mean there's the sidewalks and there's all the buildings, the fronts. It was Kramer's and it had a big window and you bought a hot dog or a hamburger and they were good. LR: Would you call them the best in town? FY: Well I don't recall, but there weren't many place to eat hamburgers as hamburger joints until about late 60s. They opened a place between 24th and 25th on the 60 east side, I think they called it the Burger Chalet. It wasn't like all those—narrow deep and you walked in, they had a telephone at each booth. You'd pick up the phone and place your order to the kitchen and that was there for several years. I remember when the first McDonald's opened, it was out across from Weber High School which was on about 11th and Washington Boulevard. It had the golden arches and hamburgers were 15 cents. Swift's supplied the burgers and I can remember when—guy's name was Frank Fidel who ran that part of the operation. He did the hotel and restaurant part of the business. Many a Saturday or Sunday he had to go down to the packing house and get hamburgers cause they, you know they didn't buy enough or something. Business was that great. Anyhow then I think they opened another place further down, south Washington Boulevard, but they gave it up when I remember it was big news. They gave it up because McDonald's then started to enclose it and they didn't think it was worth the effort or the expense. LR: So they closed the Kramer's? FY: So they sold McDonald's. Boy I bet that was a mistake. On that corner of 12th street about that time Mound Fort was on 12th and Washington, Mound Fort Junior High. Across the street there was an ice cream place and I think next door was a butcher shop. That turned into the Food Town, they tore all that out and put Food Town which is a big market which is gone now. There was a guy named Dover, owned the ice cream shop and they sold hamburgers and sandwiches. Got a lot of school trade at noon, but it had a false front, the façade, and they called it the White Cliffs of Dover and he had a picture painted on there 61 of the white cliffs of Dover. I think his name was Otto. Anyhow he built a house, he was one of those first houses going up east 12th that are kind of built up into the side hill? Anyhow he either built there or out on Harrison Boulevard where, I don't know how far out it is, maybe 4800 or 46 where there's a field and there's homes built kind of down in a gulley. They ran Harrison—they filled it in and ran Harrison through there. He served good ice cream sodas. Then on the other corner was a motel. LR: We have gotten off track a little bit, and I don't mind I'm enjoying what you're talking about. Getting back to 24th and 25th, I mean visually I can't tell where we're at, but do you think we've covered? FY: Well we've gone from Adams to Wall and across the yards. We went on 24th street all the way out to the freeway, out by Del Monte and the stock yards and the elevators. Out there— LR: So how many of these places did you have personal interaction with do you think? FY: Personal reactions? LR: Interactions, where you actually go and visit. You think most of them, a third? FY: Oh first, you know we've been talking about the Marion Hotel. Marion Hotel is on Lincoln, now what I don't know is what the hell was that hotel on 25th and Grant where I told you that the Friendly Tavern was next door and the Salvation Army Band would play. Now that was a hotel, I thought that was—I had in my mind that 62 that was the Marion until I saw a picture and Marion Hotel is still there with the sign and it's on Lincoln. LR: I don't know, I'd have to ask. Do you know? EM: No. FY: See that's now across from the federal building. LR: Right, so you want to know where the one was on the name of the hotel on Grant and 25th? FY: See we got the Healy Hotel now and the Royal. LR: The Healy and Broom Hotel were basically the same. FY: No, no. The Broom was on Washington and the Healy was on Wall. The Broom was that nice Victorian with the bay windows and that was a nice building. Yeah when they tore it down it was bad. They had to quit renting rooms, it was just too bad. Well I'll tell you I was in a lot of these places. We talked about Crittenden and Paint and Glass. Before Crittenden it was Fuller Paint and I used to buy paint from them cause they gave me wholesale price and then Crittenden took it over. See that's way back in the 50s. Minnie cut my hair, I drank beer at the Grant Tap, I went over to see Pete Vlahos in his office. LR: I can't get over Vlahos. I see his name and I say Valejos. FY: Nope he pronounced is Vlahos. Yeah the old Bamberger station and I talked about the bug house, you know old John Marsh. Lot of those bars and restaurants up and down 25th street besides the China Temple and the Star, everybody hit them because they were the only places open late that were nice. 63 The bus terminal yeah and the Elks Lodge, I never belonged but I used to get in there now and then. Brown's Ice Cream which was lately the Hostess Thrift Store, and Brown's Ice Cream was a premium ice cream and Swift bought them. Then when Swift closed you know they closed everything. That's when I guess the bakery bought it and they ended up pretty much that whole block except 25th street cause they bought the Elks Lodge and they bought Lacey's apartment house that was behind the Boracho and all that's left on that block that doesn't belong to the bakery is the west side of or the south side of 25th street. Just that one lot deep. There were places that I used to go into Read's and the Finer Tap, and Marva mentioned the Lighthouse bar. They used to be an electric shop, Lighthouse Electric, and they had that sign. I don't know is that sign still there? It was a Lighthouse and said Lighthouse Electric. Right under the Berthana or right next door to the Berthana yeah hell you know downtown. Hey on a Friday night and a Saturday night in Ogden when they had the dance halls going and all that if you didn't get down there by 6:00 or 6:30, you couldn't park three blocks from anywhere. There's a picture in there of the, I can't remember these things. The dance hall there on 24th and what was it, The White? LR: The White City. FY: White city, yeah. There's a picture in there of that ballroom. I danced there and danced at the Berthana and drank beer in most of the places. I never went in El Boracho. LR: That was going to be my next question, did you ever go in there? 64 FY: No, but you know I noticed driving down Wall Avenue about 26th or 7 there's a place called Pico De Gallo. The original Pico De Gallo was on Wall about 22nd or 23rd and it looked like a, the building looked like an old auto junk shop. It was cinder block and it was a dive. My brother used to come to town, he liked it. He liked the food and he'd go down there and it was a dive. I didn't dare go in and I remember the cinder block and they had a big window looked like it was made from you know like old car windshields or something. Anyhow I come back after 30 years and there's Pico De Gallo in a big fancy building. Well of course the place they had is gone, I guess that's part of that frontrunner, that whole development in there. Kammeyer's bought a lot of sporting goods in there and Read's they sold canvas goods, tents and stuff like that besides the leather and the saddlery. The hardware store, and I mentioned Ketchum's. By the time I went to Ketchum's, Klenke's was gone. I think that was the name of the place, love that old hardware store cause it was all compartmented. It was before blister packs and all these little drawers with a little index thing on front. The ladder with the track and I just groove on that stuff and I'm sure when they razed the building they just hauled it all instead of saving at least part of the wall. LR: I think we're winding down here, which I find sad. I want to keep talking, however can you think of anything else on those two streets that you've missed or that you'd like to add before we wind down? FY: I mentioned the gun and the Smith and Edward's. You got to check with Bert about that gun. 65 LR: I'll talk to Sarah and see what she can come up with. FY: You might check out that story I have about that horse by some vet out on west 12th street. LR: Now is that the one that they called Black Nig? FY: Old Nig. LR: Old Nig, thank you. I knew it was something like that. FY: Yeah that was—he was a famous horse around town, I don't know, probably somebody owned him. See now here, here's 25th street and Grant it's this building here on the corner. LR: The hotel? FY: Yeah see and over here would be the bus station. I was at the Egyptian theater back to hear—I can't remember if it was Robert Taft or Everett Dirkson, but I think it was Robert Taft. He tried running for president and he came out and he gave a speech at the Egyptian theater and they let any management people who desired to get off for an hour or two to go up to hear them talk. I remember, I was, boy I was a staunch republican and I was there. I remember, don't remember what he said but I remember the incident mostly because I got an hour or two off work see. Now here's 25th street see. Here's the Marion Hotel so what the hell is this one? LR: Okay that's where Willie's store is now, in the bottom of the Marion. FY: Why did they do this? 66 LR: Now it's a— FY: Diagonal? LR: Diagonal so they've changed it. FY: What were these barriers for? LR: Crosswalks, because there are crosswalks now. FY: That's the building. I thought that was—until I saw this picture I thought that was the Marion Hotel. See anyhow one of these places here was the Friendly Tap, the Friendly Tavern and the band would stand right there, Salvation Army Band, and they'd play for about an hour/45 minutes. It was great because it was about five people, they had the drum of course. Beating the bass, that's classic and we'd walk over and that's when I was telling you we were living on top of the Richard Sheet Metal cause we had that little dog. People were turning us down for an apartment and see here's the empty lot where the grocery store was and the hotel upstairs. After they shut down all the vice it became skid row. They tell you in here, yeah I remember it was a skid row and the only places decent people went was the China Temple or the Star Noodle cause you kind of feared for your life. It was porter's and waiter's club and what I found interesting in here, the names. They talk about councilmen and mayors and a lot of these names come back and I remember. I saw in there George T. Frost was the councilmen, elected to the council. I knew him, he had a Hudson dealership on Washington Boulevard. He had a brother that drove truck for Swift. I don't 67 remember his first name, we called him Frosty. He got killed, ran his truck over somewhere back east. Mayor White, Rulon White, he's the guy who started cleaning up the town. I guess I voted for him because he was elected 1951, I was here. He was the White Concrete Pipe Co. down on I think Wall Avenue they were. He had an orchard or something past the hot springs going up there on that fruitway and Rulon White Ranch was what they called it or something. 68

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 56.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1997. ; for religious C}ar~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~r~g MARCH-APRIL 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ° NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who 3~nd that the church's rich heritages of spffituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written front a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universit3., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard . St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I~OI~PI~MA@SLU.H)U Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Cauonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©~997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 aud/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This per,nission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ligious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David'Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1997 * VoLuME56 ¯ N~3MBER2 contents 118 132 143 communion and community: a symposium Communion: Divine Life Enlarging Our Desires David L. Fleming SJ explores the implications of communion for the spirituality and mission of consecrated life. Communion in Community: Some Hopeful Understandings Theresa Galvan CND proposes some ideas about and suggestions for the enfleshing of communion in the community life of today's religious. Community and Prophetic Witness Anne Munley IHM calls the religious community to understand the world in which we live in order to challenge the status quo and imagine and announce an alternative future. 156 lenten reflections John Cassian on Asceticism Kenneth C. Russell examines Cassian's teachings on asceticism and finds a therapeutic tool to recondition, under grace, the reaction of body and mind so that all our actions will be in harmony with our intentions to love God and neighbor and ourselves. Review for Religious " 169 Contemplating the Crucified: A Woman's Reflection Laurie Cassidy makes use of one woman's experience to raise the question of how other women's experience of contemplating the Crucified can offer new ways to image God's redemptive work in Jesus. 182 The Waters of Vaucluse Dennis J. Billy CSSR relates how the pool of Vaucluse not only inspires wonder by its natural beauty, but also reminds us of the centrality of prayer and of the urgency of calming the raging passion of life's inner demons. 187 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1996 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv and Eduardo C. Fernfindez SJ present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 207 Canonical Counsel: Apostolic Institutes 212 Book Reviews 145--- Marcb-Aln'il 1996 prisms A crucifix as a symbol of God's love speaks out a richer and deeper meaning than all the learned and devotional treatises of theologians and mys-tics. We spend the special liturgical seas6n of Lent allow-ing the crucified Jesus to touch our lives more closely and to call us to realize a similar willingness to love with all our mind, with all our heart, with all our strength, and with our whole soul. One of the great wonderments of our Christian Lenten season is the gift to see God in a wholly new way. Philip boldly proposes to Jesus: "Show us the Father and that will be enough for us." And Jesus even more boldly responds to Philip's request that "whoever has .seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:8-9). As we look upon the face of the crucified One, we see a face of God never imaged by philosophers. In reasoning to a God, we find ourselves caught in a morass of concepts about an all-powerful Being, an impassible Being, a Being far removed from the limitations of our time and space. Even theologians struggle to hold intact Jesus, the Word made flesh, from his conception to his death and resurrection, through all his experiences of loving, being tempted, learning, enjoying, feeling abandoned, suffer-ing, and dying. But, in looking at a crucifix, we rise above all the somersaults the human mind has to make. We look up and see simply the face of God waiting and loving us with a suffering and compassionate love. Jesus shows us God looking with love and distress upon so much.of our inhumane behavior to one another. He says, "Forgive, they do not know what they are doing." Review for Religious Through Jesus we see a God who has great desires expressed as "I thirst"--a God who hungers and thirsts for divine justice to per-meate our human dealings within families, in workplaces, between nations, so allowing God's glory to shine through. The crucified Jesus helps us to come forward fearlessly before God and plead "Remember me"--for the good that we have done or tried to do, for the pardon that we need, just for the gaze of God's attention. The crucifix allows us to glimpse the face of God's concern, try-ing to provide support and comfort to all of us Marys and Johns in the midst of our most empty and desolate moments. This is a God who empties Self in each of the gifts presented to us. As we celebrate this year of our millennium preparations with its dedication to Jesus, Lent's preparatory season for the paschal time provides us with the opportunity to grasp anew the wonder of our Christian understanding of God. Who is this God who has called us into a familial relationship, sharing the very divine life, making us truly brothers and sisters to one another? Who is this God who, waiting patiently in weakness for our love response, gives us further signs of love,~ each a plea for our attention? Who is this God who labors with us, sometimes the potter, at other times the alert assistant to our own creative actions? Perhaps we all need to be surprised again that gazing upon the crucifix gives rich insight into our God. Through Jesus, and even more particularly in his crucifixion, we come to know God in intimate ways--ways "hidden from the learned and the clever" and now revealed to us, "the merest children" (Lk 10:21). To us in our 1997 preparations Jesus says, "Blest are the eyes that see what you see. I tell you, many prophets and kings wished to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it" (Lk 10:24). David L. Fleming SJ March-Aptql 1996 communi j DAVID L. FLEMING Communion: Divine Life Enlarging Our Desires Communion, community, and common life are themes big enough to involve our whole human world, touching people in every land, in every culture. They are themes small enough to touch us in the local ~eligious community where we live and in the ministries which we do. I believe that, if we take the time to understand communion (com-munio) and make the effort consciously to li;¢e it, we will find that it will clarify and enlarge our identity (who we are as persons and as a group) and enrich our mission (what-ever our ministry in Christ's name). For communion is about life--living a life for God and sharing that life from God with others. In exploring the implications of communion, I pro-. pose these six steps: (1) to examine the word communion; (2) to consider the church context; (3) to zero in on the context of The Consecrated Life; (4) to look at some expe-riences of a communion theology; (5) to examine the meanings of a spirituality of communion; and (6) to ques, tion what it might mean to be agents of communion. The Word Communio Communio, a Latin word, bears the weight of a theo- David L. Fleming SJ, editor of this journal, first presented the content of this article as a part of a symposium on Community and Consecrated Life sponsored by the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Wernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1996. The fol-lowing two articles complete the presentations of this symposium. Review for Religious logical emphasis, renewed in our time but ancient in its roots. When a word has an almost technical meaning, we often find it helpful to consider its etymology. Etymology gives us a kind of entrance, but still we must be careful about word derivations. Communio at first might seem to come from the Latin unio, mean-ing "union," and the Latin preposition cure, meaning "with." But etymologists--those people who study language and its develop-ments-- wouldpoint out that. we are not paying attention to the two "m's." Communio appears to derive from the Latin word munus, which means "function," "task," "office," or "duty." With the preposition cure added, we get a word meaning common task, common function, or common responsibility. Etymologically, then, communio presents us with not just togetherness (union), but rather with a stress on the activity of togetherness. Moving from linguistic roots to the history of the word, com-munio was the Latin equivalent for the Greek word koinonia. In the early church three words were descriptive of its existence: kerygma, koinonia, and diakonia. Kerygma is rendered in English as "preach-ing" or "proclamation." When we use the English equivalent, we need to remember that kerygma denotes both the act and the mes-sage- perhaps better caught in our word preaching. In a similar way, diakonia, translated as "service" or "ministry," signifies both the action itself and the kind of service rendered. As we might suspect, koinonia is meant to parallel the usage found in kerygma and diakonia. Koinonia, simply translated as "community," tended to be understood by us only in its substantive reality--an assem-bly, a congregation, a society. Communio, the Latin equivalent of koinonia, especially in its current theological usage, alerts us to focus on the dynamic action of the very forming of a group of people into a "community"as well as the formed group itself. In Latin we may make a distinction between the words communio and communitas which underlines the emphasis we are trying to grasp. Communitas is a word to apply to a certain objective or substantive reality--a group of people who are together, having something in common. Communio, for its part, emphasizes the process or the actual sharing and thus the dynamism or energy ¯ necessary for a community to become and to remain a community. I believe that we can trace back these active meanings of koinonia and communio into two images found in the New Testament. Although we have expression~ of our substantive rela-tionship to God in Christ and to one another in the metaphors of l~larch-April 1997 a building not made by human hands or "my Father's house with many mansions" or a temple built of various materials, the dynamic images of the "vine and branches" in St. John's Gospel and of the "members of the Body" in the writings of St: Paul seem truer to our active living of the Christian life. We know what it means to be growing in our relationship to Jesus and to one another; we also know its setbacks. We know the stresses of being an eye wanting to say to the hand "I do not need you," as Paul reflects in his first letter to the church at Corinth. And yet we have experience of being members of one Body. We have a sense of the here-and-now reality of our relationship to Christ and to God, and we also have the sense of being "on the way" or always "in process." That is communion. The Church Context John Paul II said to the United States bishops in 1987 that "the concept of communion lies 'at the heart of the church's self-understanding.'" The official document of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, held on the twentieth anniversary of Vatican Council II, says, "The ecclesiology of communion is a central and fundamen-tal concept in the conciliar documents." And the 1993 Directgry for Ecumenism identifies communion as "a key concept which inspired the ecclesiology of the Second Vatican Council and to which recent teaching of the magisterium has given great impor-tance." But we could also discover other opinions about the impor-tance of communion. For example, in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, under the entry "Church" by Leonard Doohan, we read: "The fact that the faithful can readily identify with People of God, while they have little understanding of~ the theological con-cept communio--even, it has been suggested, 'hidden' in Latin--has given rise to severe criticism. Communio is an important dimension of the Church and has already been used to redraft the document for the Synod on the Laity (1987) and to help in the rethinking of the roles of episcopal conferences (1989), but like the concept 'sacrament of the world' it is hardly ever to gain as widespread use as 'People of God' has and will continue to have." So what has been identified as a tfieological term--communio--has been called "central" to our understanding of church by its supporters, and it has been labeled confusing and abstract by its critics. In The Consecrated Life John Paul II challenges all consecrated Review for Religious people to become true experts of communion and t9 practice the spirituality of communion (§46). He proposes that communities of consecrated life have the particular task of spreading the spir-ituality of communion (§5 I). Both as individuals and as congre- " gations, consecrated persons are called to become "agents of communion." What is a spirituality of communion, what does it mean for us to be expert in it, and how do we go about becoming agents of communion? With such major questions, all dealing with the difficult term communio, we had better consider more closely the context of the apostolic exhortation The Consecrated Life. Communio and The Consecrated Life An important key for me in entering into The Consecrated Life is John Paul's use of the transfiguration passage from Matthew's Gospel. He presents a reading of the Gospel text, but at the same time he tells us that he wants us to use the text as an icon and so to let the visual scene draw us into its reality. The pope calls us to consider the transfiguration icon as the icon of our consecrated lives. The icon brings us Latin-rite Catholics into a world that is not very familiar to us. We are used to our statues, paintings, and stained-glass windows, but for most of us the icon remains a rather cold, stylized picture. I have heard one story about the icon which I find very helpful for giving me an appreciation of this art form. When people feel a call to become a painter of the icon, they seek out a master or mentor who will help in their training: All apprentices iare started in their training in the same way: over and over they keep painting the same subject matter until the master approves. The subject matter for every appren-tice is the gospel scene of the transfiguration. Why do they need to repeat the effort of painting this pa{ticular subject over and over again? The master is judging whether the apprentice is devel-oping "eyes of faith." "Eyes of faith" are necessary to be able to paint an icon as well as to let the icon help us see. For this r~ason, it seems to Both as individuals and as congregations, consecrated persons are called to become "agents of communion." ~Ylarch-ApHl 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion me, Pope John Paul begins our consideration of consecrated life by using the icon of the transfiguration. There is only one way to begin our consideration of consecrated life, and that is: we must begin with "eyes of faith." Icons are described as windows or doors opening out into a divine world; they allow us entrance into God's world. For the Orthodox, they are like a sacrament in that an icon is a grace, a being touched by God, a new sharing in God's life, a moment of communion. The pope d6es not suggest just any icon; he speci-fies the icon of the transfiguration. He provides a verbal content of the icon in citing Matthew 17:1-9. Our focus is on Jesus. By observ-ing the startling change in him--his face bright as the sun, and his clothes white as light--we enter into a world of God's presence shining through the surface of our ordinary everyday experience. We must pay attention to our experience. First of all, we are struck by the experience of "beauty"--the brightness almost hurts our eyes, but we do not want to stop looking. Beauty and wonder and awe--we would like the moment to never end. We are con-scious that we have touched into another world--it is a religious experi~ence. The experience of seeing and hearing and being touched are all so different from ordinary seeing and hearing and touching--and yet those words describe best what our experience is: a seeing, a hearing, and a being touched. Second, although we need a little distance from the event to say this, the experience is "of the whole." Yes, we can focus and let our glance go here or there; we can look intently, almost shut-ting everything else out; we can listen so totally that it seems we are nothing but ears. The experience seems to be so total, so much a whole--and yet in retrospect we realize that we can describe many instances, different moments, within the whole-ness of the experience. We are like the apostle companions who years later still remember so many details from this transfigura-tion experience. Finally, it is when we review and recollect these "instances" that we realize the icon is an occasion of "learning." Our focus-ing, our reflections on our seeing, on our hearing, and on our being touched provide us with insight and understanding. We see relationships, we grasp how everything fits, we feel that we have an "aha!" or a "eureka!" learning time. In such a manner, .in The Consecrated Life the pope enters us into theological reflection, but through the door which must give Review for Religious entrance to all theological development, the door of prayer. Some of our revered theologians--the ones often referred to as "Fathers of the Church"--kept repeating in the early days of the church's theological development that all theology comes from prayer and leads to prayer. John Paul II models this approach in The Consecrated Life. But now let us step away from the document and let a broader experience of our Christian living give us evidence for a communion theology. A Communion Theology Do you remember when you "made" your first Communion? How often have you heard the question or spoken it yourself: "Are you going to Communion?" Perhaps we all know some peo-ple still adjusting to Vatican II changes who find it hard to "receive" Communion from anyone but a priest. What is this Communion that we can "make" or "go to" or "receive"? From our experience we know what we mean by our various verbal ~xpressions, but it is helpful for us to reflect a lit-tle more carefully about comm~znion. Communion, as we use it in terms of "making our first .'. ," or "receiving," or "going to," means the sacrament of the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ under the forms of bread and wine. We often use the fuller expression "holy Communion." We take for granted Jesus truly does give himself as the food and drink of life and that, in eating his body and drinking his blood, 'we are in communion with him in a most real and privileged way. But this food acts like no other food. In our eating the Body and drinking the Blood of Christ, the food does not become a part of us, as we understand our faith, but we are being joined into Christ's life. This is a matter, not so much of us "feeding on Christ," but rather of us (like food) being assimilated through Christ into the divine life. The Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin suggests (in his 1944."Introduction to Christian Life") that we understand our individual "receptions" of Communion not as single, discrete moments of union, but rather as a single lifelong process of our being assimilated into Christ. Our experience is that Communion is a special sacramental moment of union with Christ, of Christ's presence within us. Christ is the one who gives himself in this sacrament, and he waits upon our readiness and availability to receive him. So we cor-rectly speak of "receiving Communion," receiving a gift given. '123 - March-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion And in our designation of "holy Communion" we point to the inherent quality of the divine, of God being involved in this unit-ing. As we examine our experience of "going to Communion," we discover that it includes (i) a presence--Christ's "being with" us in a special (sacramental) way; (2) a gifting--the initiative com-ing from Christ or God; and (3) a holiness--the mysterious qual-ity which we identify with God and with divine life being imparted to us or shared with us. But, at the very time of God's activity, Communion demands our being present, our being available, our coming forward--caught up in our expression "making our first Communion." There is no Communion possible for us if we do not give ourselves over to its possibility. The Latin word commu-nit, perhaps more than our English Communion, lays stress on the activity, the dynamism, the energizing within our presence to one another, the uniting, the coming together. Communion in com-mon usage describes the sacrament of Christ's presence for us, but the word in its deeper reality speaks rather of Christ's "being .with" us and his "shaping" us in his image and "forming" us into his Body, the church. Communion effects, that is, causes, a new way of living. Let us enlarge our considerations from holy Communion to holy Eucharist--or what we commonly refer to as the Mass. The center and focus of Christian life is the celebration of the Eucharist. The Eucharist may appear to be a ritual that is repeated over and over again; only the liturgy of the word--prayers and readings--seems to have variation. But the Eucharist is the prayer-action in which we come to join ourselves with Jesus in his total gift of self to the Father's love. The Eucharist is ever new, not so much in the newly cycled readings as in the inclusion of this com-munity (of this very day) in Christ's offering. We pray to God: "Send your Spirit upon these gifts and make them holy. Let them become for us the Body and Blood of Christ." What we call here the Eucharistic action is again a moment of communio--bringing together a group of individuals whom Christ's Spirit overshad-ows as gifts along with the gift of Christ himself. We see how we say that the Eucharist is the continual formation of God's people into the Body of Christ and that the act of receiving Communion is the confirmation of that reality. The original use of the expres-sion "communion of the saints," found in St. Paul's letters, des-ignated that reality--the common sharing of believers in the body of Christ with one another and with God in Christ through the Review for Religious power of the Spirit. So, too, even today the communion of saints signifies the active care and concern of all church members for one another--the church militant (here on earth), the church suffer-ing (those in purgatory), and the church triumphant (those in heaven), in their continuing activity with the Lord. Our consideration of the Eucharist pushes us back one further step in our exploration of this word communio. How do we first find our identity as Christian? In baptism. We present ourselves (probably most of us were presented by our parents and godparents) to an identi-fying of ourselves with Jesus as our savior. Through the waters of baptism we sym-bolize our rebirth, our rising, that follows upon our symbolic dying with Christ. By baptism we enter into a new life, a com-munion with Christ, and we find our-selves members of his Body, the church. And so we now repeat what we talked about earlier: the reality of our new way of living in our active participation in the communion of saints. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod described baptism as the door and foundation of commu-nion. It went on to say that the Eucharist is the source and culmination of the whole Christian life. Receiving Communion, that is, the eucharis-tic Body of Christ, signifies and produces the building up of the ones called Christian into the Body of Christ which is the church. From our experience of the sacrament of the Eucharist, the Mass, and baptism, we might well say that communion--commu-nio-- is not so much an acting, a joining, as it is a person. Clearly, in the Eucharist it is Christ, but Christ actively engaging us with God and with others. In the Mass and in baptism, communion happens in and through thd Spirit. In our Trinitarian theology we say that the bonding of love between Father and Son is so perfect and full that Love is a person, the third person of our tri-une God. How do we image the Spirit? In the Old Testament a favorite image of God's Spirit is ruah, a mighty force or wind or breath. Even in the light of the New Testament, the Spirit still seems to us to .be that kind of dynamism or energy--but with a face. In Jesus and in the Spirit, com~nunio is not an abstract and airy Communio is a gifting from God, through Christ and in the Spirit, that allows us personally to share in the very communion which is God's lif~. ½25- -- March-April 1997 Fleming * Communion notion--just a kind of grouping or union--but a reality we are caught up in, which is personalizing and enlarging and engaging us all at the same time. Communio is a gifting from God, through Christ and in the Spirit, that allows us personally to share in the very communion which is God's life (or should we say "share in the very Communio who is God"?) and which joins us together as God's people and the Body of Christ. A Spirituality of Communion The transfiguration icon, the Gospel text, and our own Christian experience and prayer--all contribute to our under-standing of communio in the context of the document The Consecrated Life. Pope John Paul suggests that praying the myste~ of the transfiguration sheds light in a singularly helpful way upon the vocation of consecrated life. From ancient times we have been blessed with a spiritual tradition which sees in this icon of the transfiguration a link between .people following the call to the contemplative fife and Jesus in his prayer on the mountain. But the pope points out that the active dimension of consecrated life is also included, "for the transfiguration is not only the revelation of Christ's glory, but also a preparation for facing Christ's cross" (§14). It involves both a "going up the mountain" and a "coming down the mountain." What do we mean by the word spirituality? And what is involved in living a spirituality? We use the word spirituality fre-quently today, and I would like to touch upon its two aspects. Spirituality can be described as a Way of understanding and living out our relationship to God, to ourselves, to others, and to our world. For us Christians I would add: "in the light of our fol-lowing Jesus Christ, as revealed to us in the Scriptures and the tra-ditions of the church." That would be our Christian spirituality. Note that it is a way of understanding and living out a relation-ship. Another aspect of spirituality--a further refinement--is to define spirituality as a theological discipline in terms of its being a study of our way of understanding and living out a relationship to God, to ourselves, to others, and to our world. How might we describe a spirituality of communion' in the light of the transfiguration? The scene involves us With Jesus in prayer, transfigured before his disciples (Peter, James, and John) so that his face shone like the sun and his garments became white Review for Religious as light. Then there appeared to them Moses and Elijah talking with him. Ih the midst of Peter's response to all this happening, there came a bright and overshadowing cloud, with a voice declar-ing, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him." The Trinitarian life of Father, Son, and Spirit is made mani-fest inthe voice (the Father) and the cloud (the Spirit), all part of the glory shining forth from Jesus' humanity. Peter's response, "It is good for us to be here," contained an expression of gratitude for a gift, still barely realized. In the Father's call to listen to Jesus, to place all their trust in him, to make him the center of their lives, the disciples stood on the threshold of a door leading to a wholly new relationship with God. Through Jesus they were being invited to the intimacy of the interior life of our triune God, a life of communio. For men and women religious who still follow the call of the Father (as the icon emphasizes, the Father's call always precedes the call of Christ in our lives) and accord-ingly follow the call of Jesus, listening is still essential. A spirituality of communion begins, with listening. We listen to the word of God--first in the Scriptures and then, by this light, in all the ways God speaks to us tl]rough the entire universe around us. A spirituality of communion follows the lead of Christ, both in being with him in prayer on the mountain and in following him down the mountain and onto the road to Jerusalem. Prayer and all the other elements that make up our life called conse-crated provide the continuing moments of communio for us, just as they did for Jesus. Jesus in~augurated this new family union--all those ready to "do the will of God." This communio changes human relationships and creates a new type of union, so interac-tively close that it gets described by Jesus in family terms and by the pope in terms of a solidarity. After the gifting of the Spirit at Pentecost, the first followers of Christ, as recorded in the early chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, share in his life completely. This model of communio has inspired many founders and foundresses in their visioning of how a particular group would come together. Moved by the Spirit, Charism is our own particular ingredient effecting and affecting our communion, our personal lives and our lives together. March-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion we in consecrated life today find our way of sharing in common a necessary part of our spirituality of communion. Charism is our own particular ingredient effecting and affecting our communion, our personal lives and our lives together. We will be exploring this reality in the other articles of this symposium. Here it is enough to note that charism gives a unique quality or character to communion. Each of the traditional evangelical counsels--chastity, poverty, and obedience--is nuanced by our consciously living a spiritual-ity of communion. Chastity--for us, an undivided heart--is :a reflection of Jesus' choice, but even deeper down, for his life and for ours, chastity is a reflection of the infinite love which links the three Divine Persons--an undivided love. We strive to reflect such a fullness of divine love with what we call "our undivided heart." Poverty, whereby we proclaim that God is our only real treasure, reflects the "emptying" of the incarnate Son, even to death by crucifixion, to become one with us so that we can become rich with his resurrected fullness. But poverty for Jesus and so for us, too, reflects the total gift of self---holding nothing back-- which the three Divine Persons make to one another. Obedience shows the liberating beauty of a dependence modeled on Jesus, whose "meat and drink" is to do the "will of Him who sent me;" but even deeper down, for Jesus and for us, a life-dependence reflecting the loving harmony between the three Divine Persons. As an instance of this harmony, St. Ignatius Loyola in his Spiritual Exercises suggests that as we enter the m~stery of the annunciation we picture the Trinity in conference--seeing the human world as they see it, hearing its cries of joy and sorrow, hope and despair, and then noting their decision setting in motion the salvation project made visible in the obedient incarnation of the Second Person. As we grow in our love of Jesus by imitating him in our choice of the evangelical counsels, we find ourselves growing in our communion with the triune God. The Eucharist remains the central daily act for those living a spirituality of communion. It is in the celebration of the Eucharist that we understand most clearly that communion leads to mis-sion and itself becomes mission. In the transfiguration passage in Luke's Gospel, Jesus is understood to be conversing with Moses and Elijah (symbols summing up the Old Testament, both the Law and the Prophets) about the biblical passage he was to fulfill in Jerusalem. The transfiguration icon, as the pope has reminded Re~iew for Religious us, contains both the "going up the mountain" (prayer) and "com-ing down the mountain" (mission). The "Ire, missa est" (not, "go, the Mass is ended" but "go, there is a sending forth") was in the context of fragments of the consecrated host being brought around to all the churches in Rome--a sending forth to solidify again the communion among all the Christian communities. In such a context, the very Communion of the community is its mission, and in its mission is found communion. Agents of Communion For all those living the consecrated-life vocation, there is the need to explicitly foster a spirituality basic to this way of life--a spirituality of communion. Not only does such a growth begin to be exercised as one gives oneself over to a religious congrega-tion, but the congregation itself needs always to promote its own communion among all its members over cultures and geograph-ical regions and age spans. And the congregation members find themselves involved in ever widening arcs in working with others in ministry, always seeking and providing a support and union in life and in service. By their being continually configured to Christ, consecrated persons join their own prayer and action with a spe-cial intensity to Jesus' own prayer "that all may be one." What impresses me in Peter's response within the transfigu-ration icon, "It is good for us to be here," is the call for all con-secrated people to be "agents of communion." Perhaps in our own day it gives a new intensity to the famous Pauline identity of our common Christian mission as "ambassadors Of reconcilia-tion." How necessary it is to work at and enhance our spiritual-ity of communion! We are to be agents of communion, ambassadors of reconciliation, in a church often divided in strident ways between liberals and conservatives, divided by mistrust between the laity and the hierarchy, and even divided over living our life together, over our prayer and our ministry, as members of one and the same religious congregation. We are to be agents of communion in countries and societies that are torn by racial divi-sion, agents of communion in a Christian church scandalously fractured into so many denominations professing Christ that our missionary effort is weakened, agents of communion in cultures where the many belief and value systems serve only to divide peo-ple. There is only one way to become better agents of commu-l~ larclJ-April 1997 Fleming ¯ Communion nion, and that is to imbibe a spirituality of communion and put it into action. The icon brings home a togetherness in prayer and in action. "It is good for us . " "Good for us" is the attitude and mind-set of people trying to live out a spirituality of communion. Dialogue becomes a way of life for an agent of communion. And so we find ourselves by our very choice of consecrated life with a chosen responsibility to integrate a spirituality of seeking communion with the charismatic spirituality of our own conse-crated lifeform. For all of us, whatever our charism, both con-templative and actively apostolic, are being called to be agents of communion. I want to close these reflections with one striking example of being an agent of communion in dialogue. The story is that of the seven Cistercians martyred in Algeria in 1996. In this journal's November-December 1996 issue, Father Basil Pennington has published an account of these men. I present just one element of the story here. Seven Trappist monks from Our Lady of Atlas monastery in Tibhirine, Algeria, were executed by the GIA (a kind of Islamic freedom fighters group) on 21 May 1996. The prior, Dom Christian, had written a final testament and sent it to his abbot general~some months earlier, with the instruction that it be opened upon his death. The testament includes these words: This is what I shall be able to do, if God wills: immerse my gaze in that of the Father to contemplate with him his chil-dren of Islam as he sees them, all shining with the glory of Christ, fruit of his Passion, filled with the gift of the Spirit, whose secret joy will always be to establish communion and to refashion the likeness in playing with the differences. For this life lost, totally mine and totally theirs, I thank God, who seems to have wished it entirely for the sake of that joy in and in'spite of everything. In this thank-you where, once and for all, all is said about my life, I certainly include you, friends of yesterday and today, and you, 0 my friends of this place, at the side of my mother and my father, my sisters and my brothers and their families--the hundredfold as he had promised! And you, too, my last-minute friend, who would not have known what you were doing; yes, for you too I say this thank-you and this a-dieu--to commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may he grant to us to find each other, happy thieves, in Paradise, if it please God, the Father of us both. Amen! Review for Religious In describing the role of agents of communion, the pope's apostolic exhortation had proclaimed, only two months before this 1994 testament was opened, that consecrated persons have "the particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion first of all in their internal life and then in the ecclesial commu-nity, and even beyond its boundaries, by opening or continuing dialogue in charity, especially where today's world is torn apart by ethnic hatred or senseless violence." Consecrated persons are described as"signs that dialogue is always possible and that com-munion can bring differences into harmony." The Trappists laid down their lives in such hope. The pope began his apostolic exhortation with an icon. We have a modern-day icon here in our Trappist martyrs of Algeria. They are incarnate signs--witnesses, in their identity and in their mission--of what communion (communio) is all about. May these two icons Transfiguration and Trappists--lead us to enlarge our desires for our identity and for our mission through a spirituality of communion. Easter Service A tiny spark fumbled to an ordered flame; one candle lit, then once and twice proclaimed by solemn voice. The fire links out ~spread candle to candle widening in hearthy ripple. Expectant eyes glinting and cheeks Rembrandted the community crackles and breathes anew. The voice intones once more: Hope. Hope. Hope. Stephen Eric Smyth FMS March-April 1997 '131 . THERESA GALVAN Communion in Community: Some Hopeful Understandings My task in this symposium on religious life is to reflect on ome attitudes and mentalities, some understandings and agreements, and some practical efforts that must all be oper-ative if communion is to take flesh in a religious community of women or men. My reflections flow from my personal experi-ence, of course, but they include some of the urgency and hope I have felt during my service of province leadership within my own congregation and in my interaction with leadership of other reli-gious institutes of women and men these past eight years. Since the Second Vatican Council, much outstanding theol-ogy, sociology, psychology, philosophy, and spirituality has been made available to women and men religious. Many writers have influenced the movement of religious life in the church and in society. For their gift of clear articulation, I am very grateful; some of my words will echo their wisdom and research. I am grateful also to all the religious I consulted before writing this paper, members of my own and other religious institutes. Their faith-filled experience and insights will also be echoi.ng in my words. Beyond that, my task is quite simple: to draw from my more recent experiences some ideas about and suggestions for the enfleshing of communion in the community life of today's religious. Theresa Galvan CND has served as provincial superior of the U.S.A. province of the Congregation of Notre Dame. Her address is Congregation of Notre Dame; 391 East Marsile Street; Bourbonnais, Illinois 60914. Review for Religious Before talking about attitudes, mentalities, and practical understandings that are necessary if this is to occur, I want to reflect briefly on Jesus' intimacy with his disciples in the upper room just before his death. It could not have been an easy moment. The time of parting had come, a time redolent of both love and betrayal. But Jesus wanted them to remember why they were there, with each other and with him; why they had been called; and to what they must remain faithful. If anything was to give them courage and even joy in the days ahead, it could only be their memory of this time, calling them to the only thing, the only One, that gave meaning to their lives. Their fears, their arro-gance, their doubts were, at least for this moment, being sup-planted by the intimacy of their oneness with him. T.his fire within them would indeed ensure their ultimate fidelity to him. I have said these things to you while still with you; but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name will teach you everything and remind you of all I have said to you . Make your home in me as I make mine in you. As a branch cannot bear fruit by itself, but must remain part of the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me . This is my commandment: love one another, as I have loved you. (Jn 14:25-26, 15:3-4, 15:12,JB) The communion of Jesus with his beloved Abba and with the Spirit of Truth, the communion of Jesus with his beloved disciples, is felt and expressed, and is sent forth beyond that uppe~" room. That communion, so fragile and yet so intense, is celebrated, is remembered; it will be tested by the fires of Calvary and all the Calvarys that the disciples and future followers of Jesus will embrace because of their oneness with him, with his mind and heart. If we seek to incarnate--in our community experience as women and men religious--our communion with God in Jesus "Christ, then our starting point must surely be this: the Christ who calls; Christ, whom we follow; Christ, with whom we have cast our lot in the company 6f others similarity called; Christ, whose intense, familiar oneness .with his Father rendered him empty of his divinity through his obedience, his hunger to do his beloved Father's desires "even ufito death"; Christ, who lived and prayed from the depths of his relationship with his Father, who went off alone at times to savor that relationship and to find light and strength for his mission; Christ, who, living always in this Presence, taught the disciples and us, by what he said and how he ~l~arch-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community We would do well to look back to our initial commitment and remember its enthusiasm and even extravagance beyond all human reason. lived, to forgive beyond measure, to love unto death, to believe beyond failures, to serve with graciousness, to favor the poor, and to surrender all we have because of love. Before we can sort through our personal attitudes and men-talities and our corporate understandings and agreements (which could once again solidify religious communities, identifying them as models of vibrant communion), it seems to me that we would do well to look back to our initial com-mitment and remember its enthusi-asm and even extravagance beyond all human reason. We need to see, trusting the certitude of our encounters with God since that ini-tial commitment, how Christ has continued to call us. We need to see that in our many responses we have indeed experienced conversions, deepenings of commitment, expan-sions of heart; that we are carried, with no doubt quieter extravagance, to new and deeper levels of self-giving. This is the fire that must remain alive in us if com-munion is to be ignited around us. Webster defines communion as "a sharing; possession in com-mon; an intimate spiritual relationship; a group of people of the same religious faith." Such communion will necessarily spill over in some obvious and tangible ways. It was the experience of the early Christians as they came together for the Eucharist and com-mon prayers and for the purpose of caring for the poor among them. The incarnation of communion in community is indeed both witness and mission. This enfleshing of communion is also a personal need if one's personal communion with Christ and his mission is to remain alive, vibrant, and missionary. The recent apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (§46) reminds us that "con-secrated persons are called to be true experts of communion and to practice .a 'spirituality of communion' as witnesses and.archi-tects of the plan of unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design." It is obvious, I think, that communion and community are critically central to our call, commitment, and mission as conse-crated religious in today's world and church. Yet the meaning and Revieu, for Religious the living of community have become major areas of difference for today's religious. Community life has certainly gone through major deconstruction in the past thirty years. Some of it has been necessary, but some of it may be detrimental to our vowed iden-tity, our corporate focus and mission, and our prophetic witness. I want to mention some of the recurring difficulties in com-munity life for today's religious. (Many of them have already been highlighted in the research study by Nygren and Ukeritis on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States.I): ¯ Individualism and the absence of a clear corporate plan of action for mission in some congregations have increased the sense of isolation, of separation, and even of meaning-lessness that contrasts sharply with the members' original expectations. ¯ Some religious have taken on lifestyles of materialism, consumerism, and geographic settledness and have embraced a comfortableness which deadens the missionary spirit, that is, the unencumbered freedom to, go beyond oneself in communion with the poor Christ and'with other people. ¯ Our very ministries have become, for some, overinvolve-ment with the work force to the exclusion of sharing in community responsibilities, being accountable to others in the community, and offering the supportive presence that builds +ommunion. Consequently, personal contemplative communion with God is seriously affected; and community prayer and faith sharing, meals and celebrations together, and other rich human interactions of persons who have responded to a common call are denied the group. ¯ The breakdown of some of a congregation's legitimate leadership structures regarding mission and consecrated commitment has.led to situations of fending for oneself, ~ doing one's own thing, and losing the larger congregational vision, perhaps losing even religious obedience's interior sense of self-giving. ¯ Self-care and personal growth, necessary as these are, have led some to turn in on themselves or to set out on a futile search for the "perfect" community in which there is no room for the sick of mind, body, or spirit. ¯ The Eucharist, for some, has become aSunday-only or occasional event at best, not from legitimate inability to be present, but as a reaction to current church teaching and practice. This way of acting has seriously affected the very heart of Christian communion and religious community life. March-Ap~q11997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community ¯ Some have simply given up and wait out their~years, claim-ing their own personal fidelity as the extent of their efforts, thus depriving the larger community of their piece of truth, their experience, their graced spiritual wisdom. I believe that there is a hunger in us for communion--with God, with one another, with the church, with our brothers and sis-ters in the wider world. What is keeping us, at least some of us, from entering and living more fully this communion? We must begin to look honestly at some necessary shifts of attitudes, and not only of internal mind-sets, but also their expres-sion in our external manner of being and acting. These shifts must occur if religious community life is to reflect the commu-nion of hearts and minds that single-hearted love of God makes possible, communion that witnesses to the mind of Christ, sup-ports commitment, gives witness to the possibility of selfless love in a hurting world, and urges religious to a greater fidelity to mission. We must not forget that attitudes--those inner dispositions which express themselves outwardly--will not change by external force or coercion. Inner movements toward something more spring generally from the knowledge of being loved and the desire to reciprocate love. Vita consecrata urges us not to lose sight of the fact that the purpose of our lives and commitment is a passionate love for God that finds its expression in communion and a mis-sionary spirit. It is in this inner fire that worthy attitudes are formed and refined. It would seem that some of that fire smolders and is in need of stoking. It seems to me, then, that we need to move: FROM a deadening satisfaction in living community life in the most minimal fashion, leaving each member undisturbed by community expectations and thus neutralizing any engaged commitment, TO living again with the fire of one's initial religious com-mitment (but as it has penetrated deeper in the ensuing years) and daring to dialogue with one another around what is most central to our consecrated, identity and mission. FROM an individualism in community which emotionally and actually isolates us from one another and renders us the sole directors of our individual lives and actions TO an interdependence whereby we are willing to assume influential responsibility for the common good and to let the course of our life be influenced by those with whom we have cast our lot. Review for Religqous FROM a privatized personal prayer that attempts to control the voice, of God, whether speaking to us directly or through events and persons, TO a contemplative prayer which, though taking place in the solitude of ourself with God, includes a desire to hear from the greater communion and by it to be moved beyond ourself. ¯ FROM a paralyzing fixation with former styles of commu-nity life (whether hankering for their seeming assurances and predictabilities or decrying some very real distortions and abuses) TO a healthy retaining of what was good and a letting go of the rest. FROM a lifestyle which reflects a consumerism and mate-rialism based on first-world influences TO an authentically simple lifestyle which mirrors both our single-hearted attachment to Christ and a desire to share both personal and community goods with the larger world. FROM an excessive professional busyness that is destructive of both our personal relationship with God and our com-munity life ¯ TO an active and growing effort to build community by living together in faith our vowed identity, our prayer, and our mission. FROM a "closed" self-righteousness that categorizes indi-viduals, groups, and institutions as unenlightened or out-dated, too liberal or too conservative, and so forth, TO a humble receptivity in dialogue, reconciliation, and bridge building. FROM a posture of strength or power (personal or insti-tutional) stemming from education, academic eminence, or religious profession TO being faith sharers, discerners, and mutually both teach-ers and learners--in solidarity rather than by privileged separateness. FROM an entrenchment in or a preference for "comforts" that are coincident with present-day chaos regarding con-secrated identity TO an acknowledgment that we resist some of the lights we have and then to a greater receptiveness regarding con-version, change, and communion.2 FROM unreflective rejection of some legitimate mediations solely because of the source (church officials, religious lead-ership, private suggestions, and so forth) '-13-7- ~lCarch-April 1997 Galvan * Communion in Community TO an informed and loving critique or reception of the mediation after we have listened and discerned carefully, willing to be moved towards God's desires for us, whatever the channel of communication. FROM a movement away from the cross and its part in the paschal journey TO an embracing of its mystery along with Christ, in the light of who we are and are called to be. FROM a temptation to discouragement in the face of the realities of membership and mission TO a deep trust in God, who has called us to this conse-crated way of life. Attitudinal shifts ordinarily do not happen abruptly. Although God's grace, as we know, sometimes moves us quicHy out of our narrow fears and selfishness, ordinarily shifts in attitudes and mentalities happen slowly, even imperceptibly. My sense is that most often we find ourselves struggling with the subtle and not-so- subtle forces at war within us as we genuinely try to remain poised, with an interior honesty and transparency, to discern God's great and holy desires for us. My experiences these past few years as provincial leave me hopeful. Although I have observed and experienced many of the negative trends cited in the study by Nygren and Ukeritis on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States, I believe that a certain reversal is occurring in some of the trends cited in that study. For example, I am hearing that a growing number of reli-gi. ous are dissatisfied with the individualism that has taken hold of too many in our communities. At more and more congregational meetings, I am hearing of deliberate movement toward a corpo-rate focus and a common vision for mission. Members are being called to participate in rec.laiming their common vision. Such chfinge will demand a letting go of one's independence. It will mean a return to communion with the larger community as the group walks in fidelity to its call and mission in the church and society. It will mean that one is ready to be sent," in the name of the community, in the vision of the community, and in the mission of the church. A call for personal responsibility is implied. The demands and risks of accountability are obvious, but for many they are welcome. Above all, an expressed desire to know and companion Christ poor, chaste, and obedient in his embrace of the mission given him by his beloved Abba continues to be a hunger Review for Religious and the great drawing force for communion in religious life; Ongoing dialogue as believers with a common commitment in the face of the mystery of this call, a dialogue of trust in our own and others' integrity, a dialogue of respect for the movements of the Spirit at work in ourselves and others, a dialogue in an atmo-sphere where one can speak one's personal truth in freedom, acceptance, and love, is of course imperative if what seem to be shifting attitudes and trends are to take root. Yet dialogue, nec-essary as it is, cannot of itself effect the desired end. Each mem-ber of the community must become engaged in what Vita consecrata refers to as a "spirituality of commu-nion" in a world looking for meaning. VChat, then, might be some basic understand-ings and some concrete things a community must agree on if communion--that union of minds and hearts around Christ and his mission--is to be enfleshed, incarnated, made visible among, in, and through them? First, I think that the community must desire to be a place where the members can continue to respond to their call to be with and follow Christ, the poor, chaste, and obedient One. From this desire in each member of the community, the basic under-standings and concrete ways of living that desire will take shape. This implies an atmosphere, the availability of unmistakable spaces where that intimate, personal solitude with God can be experi-enced and deepened. It implies an atmosphere where one's vowed life can find concrete expression and ~where the mission and charism of the larger religious congregation is a lived reality. This atmosphere, this space, this place, is where communion is inte-grated in prayer, identity, and mission. Second, the community must agree to be a place where per-sonal conversion continues. This means that all the members see themselves as still needing conversion. It demands a certain degree of healthy self-acceptance. It also means that members allow for the ongoing conversion of the other members. It anticipates moments of and times for reconciliation as one moves from shadow and darkness to light. It embraces the sinner among us, both in ourselves and in others. It welcomes the dialogue of faith where members can simply share some aspects of their unique journey with God and with their brothers and sisters. It is a place The community must agree to be a place where personal conversion continues. ~lard.,-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community where we can be transformed by God, even radically, and find ourselves in an atmosphere of a rejoicing community. Third, the group must see itself as a community where dis-cerning hearts will continue to seek together what God desires of them. It assumes that members are in consistent, personal prayer with God, certainly sometimes struggling with God, but ultimately wanting to know and to be moved to the more of God's loving hopes for them. It will mean that the building of communion in this particular community will be done by all the members. They will feel responsible for their lives together by prayerfully sorting out how the community will grow and deepen in its commitment. A dis-cerning community is one which remains in close dialogue with its largerreligious congregation so that the mission of the reli-gious institute will not be limited in time, space, or place. It means that all the members of the community are implicitly or even explic-itly ready to be called out of the group for the sake of mission. Fourth, though conflicts and differences and misunderstand-ings are inevitable even in the best endeavors to foster commu-nion, nonviolence must be the understood atmosphere of their living and acting. This means that all members will respect the dignity of one another and of themselves as loved by God. It means that conflicts will be resolved in direct and peace-filled (even if strong) dialogue. It means that personality differences will be good-humoredly accepted, and value differences rever-ently discussed. It will be a place where visitors will instinctively feel the quieting peace of God's presence. Finally, and closely tied to the first understanding cited above, the community needs to be clear about its place in the larger reli-gious institute, that is, about its founding spirit, charism, mission orientation, and so forth. This clarity is important because com-munion and community must be lived and expressed faithfully within the boundaries, the identity, of a particular religious insti-tute and according to the specificity of one's consecrated com-mitment in it. Given these basic understandings and some of the attitudi-nal shifts necessary if consecrated religious are to move beyond individualism to a shared communion lived in community, there are, I think, some concrete things the group needs to agree on in order to become communities of real communion on mission: ¯ specific, consistent times for prayer together and simple faith-sharing and also for meals and social and celebrative Review for Retigiou.~ gatherings, keeping in mind and respecting the varying per-sonal and ministerial needs and responsibilities of the mem-bers of the community; ¯ times for dialogue about the vowed life, shared values, and other issues pertaining to our consecrated commitment and mission and also for larger congregational issues and global issues as well; ~ the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the commu-nity; ¯ the expectations and (especially in the larger religious institutes) structures for co-responsibility and accountabil-ity in support of our vowed commitment and mission; ¯ the type of corporate lifestyle which, even in individual expressions of it, will give witness to our vowed commu-nity life; ¯ the knowledge of how to deal nonviolently with conflict and differences; ¯ a prayerful approach to community dialogue/discussion leading to corporate decisions, so that members may be mindful of working together to know God's desires for them in this; ¯ expectations regarding relaxed times together, times of enjoyment and simple togetherness, so that, even within their busy ministry schedules, members will have the time and the space to receive one another's vulnerability, to address conflicts peacefully, to offer and be offered recon-ciliation when necessary, and to support one another in their ministry. None of this is new in our experiences of religious life together. In my experience as provincial, communities which did agree to work consciously and simply at building quality community in sup-port of mission and commitment, in a communion of minds and hearts, had no trouble getting others interested in joining them. What I have outlined regarding attitudes, mentalities, under-standings necessary for the enfleshing of communion in commu-nity life may seem overwhelming if we view community as a task rather than simply as a way of sharing communion. As a provin-cial I always felt I was in a very privileged place when I was in dialogue with my sisters about our experiences of God as conse-crated vowed women in our congregation. Invariably our dia-logue would move into issues of community life and the question of the more that it could be--with our inner communion of minds and hearts becoming mole manifest, with our experiencing one another's support more dynamically, with our reaching out to oth-ers more widely. March-April 1997 Galvan ¯ Communion in Community Some have despaired that this kind of thing could happen. Some have already walked away emotionally and settled into their own world. Some are discouraged but still hopeful. Some have found and helped build such a community. Religious congregations spend much time--and often it is necessary--in meetings, gatherings, chapters where the agendas find their way even into mealtimes. Everyone complains, but the hectic pace of our gatherings continues. I think it might be good if each religious congregation would spend some extended time together with no other agenda than to share with one another, prayerfully and simply, some pieces of the story of our personal communion with God as we have experienced it in our particular religious institute. I believe that from such a gathering, from such a shared communion, a new fire--of joy in being together, of per-sonal and community energy for mission--would give witness to the presence, Within us and among us, of a God worthy of our all. I have spoken of the hope I sense as I hear religious speak of the desire for the more to which God calls us in our consecrated commitment and our mission in a hurting world. It is not a hope that is settled in false complacency and renders us stagnant, in deadening self-satisfaction. It is a fiery hope that gives us a holy sense of urgency and a willingness to be further transformed into what God desires us to be. It is a hope that has the buoyancy of love when it is founded on faith. It is a hope which gives life. Notes i David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22,.no. 15 (24 September 1992), and Review for Religious 52, no. I (January-February 1993): 6-55, esp. pp. 42-51. 2 From a presentation to our province in the summer of 1993 by Barbara Valuckas SSND, PhD (PILGRIMinistries; 9 Academy Hill Road; Watertown, Connecticut 06795): "From Chaos, Facing Resistances, Acting on the Lights." Review for Religious ANNE MUNLEY Community and Prophetic Witness Idn this reflection on the ministerial, prophetic, and witness imensi0ns of communion, community, and common life, I have drawn from Vita consecrata (25 March 1996) and from vari-ous other writings about religious life "or being prophetic in today's society. I have considered some of the critical challenges and sin-ful distortions that are rupturing right relationship~s in our coun-try and our world. I have thought about some breative efforts of United States women religious to respond to urgent needs through a wide array of ministries flowing from their charisms. And I have found that a major benefit of reading or listening to material on the Synod on Consecrated Life has been ~in increased awareness of the church's universality and of the importance of being open to insights of other cultures and other areas of the world. The Icon of the Transfiguration Vita consecrata sets consecrated life on Trinftarian and Christological foundations. The icon of,the transfigured Christ provides a theological and spiritual view of the document. It helps us see that consecrated life has its center in the mystery of God, For many of us this may be a different entry point for reflecting on Anne Munley IHM, congregational administrator for the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary of Scranton, Pennsylvania, also serves as president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. Her address is Immaculate Heart of Mary Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. March-April 1997 Munley * Community and Prophetic lVitness consecrated life, communion, community, and mission. It emphasizes the Eastern concept of love of divine beauty and a mystical, contemplative focus that ultimately gets to action. In the West we tend to emphasize transformation, incarnation, kenosis, and an image of Jesus as "the anointed one" who pours forth his life for the sake of the many. In the transfiguration story, the disciples go up the mountain with Jesus and there they experience the beauty of God in the face of Jesus. It is an experience of communion and community. The disciples stay on the mountain experiencing the transfiguration together with Jesus; then together they go down the mountain to serve. In Vita consecrata the transfiguration icon is used to express an identity for consecrated life. It reminds us that we are called to be icons of God's love and beauty in the midst of the people and that it is the experience of communion with God, one another, and the world that impels us to mission. Further on in the document, a wonderful passage ties the quest for divine beauty direcdy to the imperative of prophetic witness amid urgent needs of the times: "The quest for divine beauty impels consecrated persons to care for the deformed image of God on the faces of their brothers and sisters, faces disfigured by hunger, faces disillusioned by political promises, faces humiliated by seeing their culture despised, faces frightened by constant and indiscriminate violence, the anguished faces of minors, the hurt and humiliated faces of women, the tired faces of migrants who are not given a warm welcome, the faces of the elderly who are without even the minimum conditions for a dignified life. The consecrated life thus shows with the eloquence of works that divine charity is the foundation and stimulus of freely given and active love" (VC §75). The transfiguration story offers much to ponder in regard to communion, community, the common good, prophetic living, and witnessing to the gospel. The Value of Both Being and Doing Vita consecrata and other contemporary works about religious life remind us that there is immense value in both being and doing. Vita consecrata describes community life, "understood as a life shared in love," as "an eloquent sign of ecclesial communion" (§42), It views consecrated life itself as % mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life," and defines this mission as "making Christ present Review for Religious to the world through personal witness" (§72). In Vita consecrata, "the witness of life and the witness of works of the apostolate and human development" are seen as "equally necessary" (§72). While being and doing are both important, it is our reason for being that gives shape to our doing. What religious must be in society is a far more significant question than what religious must do in society. In The Fire in These Ashes, Joan Chittister OSB vigorously calls attention to matters of being and doing. If religious life is to fulfill its purpose, it must be the kind of contemplative presence in the world that manifests the reign of God. It is not what we religious do that makes us witnesses to a God .who loves and liberates. It is why we do what we do and how we do it that signals hope to a hurting world. At a time when we hear much about diminishing numbers and relinquishment of long-cherished works, Chittister makes an important point: "The fact is that religious life was never meant simply to be a labor force in the church; it was meant to be a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark oi: human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged" (p. 2). To the extent that the quality of our communal presence in society and the collective witness of our works evoke awareness of the presence of a .compassionate and loving God, to that extent is our world being brought closer to God's reign. What religious must be in society is a far more significant question than what religious must do in society. The Prophetic Role of Consecrated Life Consecrated life is a dynamic gift of God to the church and to the world. It is neither static nor ahistorical, nor is it a self-serving refuge from the critical questions and pressing problems of our times. It is a call to be life for the world. It is a call to be a spar, k of light and a force for love in a world that cries oht for healing, truth, goodness, compassion, beauty, justice, community, and the full realization of human dignity and potential. All across history, religious life has been at its best when it has engaged directly with the culture of which it is a part, raising up what is good and lamenting all that distorts God's holy purposes. March-Aptql 1997 Munley * Community and Prophetic Witness The founders and foundresses of religious congregations were acutely sensitive to gaps that existed in their day between the realities of life and the vision set forth by Jesus. With great practicality, integrity, faith, courage, and trust, they named the pain of God's people, proclaimed an alternate vision, paid ~the price for their convictions, and with incredible ingenuity and resourcefulness inspired others to join with them in an effort to bear witness to a God of love, liberation, hope, mercy, and forgiveness. Today, too, critical involvement with the culture is essential to consecrated life. We must understand the world in which we live in order to challenge the status quo and imagine and announce an alternative future. It is for us, the believing community, to be bearers of hope. Our world needs to hear the challenge of prophetic words and to be challenged by prophetic action. As religious we need to be willing and able to "tell it as it is" and as it can be. We ourselves must turn away from sinful distortions that create gaps between the is and the ought to be. We must consciously choose to pay the price that fidelity will entail. We must be men and women of courage who find our strength and hope in God. Vita consecrata recognizes the prophetic role of religious life: "The consecrated life has the prophetic task of rec~lling and serving the divine plan for humanity, as it is announced in Scripture and as it emerges from an attentive reading of the signs of God's providential action in history" (§73). It reminds us that, in order to advance the prophetic t.ask, one needs profound experience of God, awareness of the challenges of the times, and an understanding of the theological meaning of these challenges in the light of the gospel. Vita consecrata.calls us once again, in the words of Gaudium et spes, to "respond to the perennial questions which people ask about this present life and the life to come, and about the relationship of the one to the other" and challenges us "to present new answers to the new problems of today's world" (§73). Joan Chittister OSB has given similar expression to the prophetic role of consecrated life: "The purpose of religious life is not survival; it is prophecy. The role of religious life is to bring to visibility what is Good News for our time now." (p. 26). She has described the relationship of religious li'fe to culture in varioug images as "a voice, a call, a presence, and a prophet in the world" (p. 71), as "a glaring light of conscience in a world grown coarse under the weight of an amoral, if not immoral kind of capitalism" Review for Religious (p. 22), and as a "sentry on the wall," a "bugler at dawn," "a lamplighter at night," and-"a candle on a far hill" (p. 71). The prophetic witness to which religious congregations are called has a communal and corporate character. Religious institutes are made up of men and women who hive publicly committed themselves to a life of radical interdependence and commonness of purpose. Individuals join communities to do together what they cannot do alone. Just as the participation of every member is needed to carry forward the mission and corporate direction of the congregation, so too are the voices of religious needed to raise up 'critical questions for the sake of the common good. In every culture and in every era there are expressions of grace and beauty as well as elements of de-humanization. It is a central task of religious life to give spiritual energy to the culture of the .times by calling the attention of the world to the spiritual dimensions of its actions. This is a task that closely parallels that of the Hebrew prophets. In denouncing poverty and the injustice and sinfulness of what was happening, they helped the community to grieve, lament, see other possibilities, and change ways in order to become whole. In calling anew for the presence and help of God, the prophets were able to reveal something new, a path not yet seen by the people. Vita consecrata and other works appropriately highlight the prophetic role that is fundamental to the life and mission of every religious congregation. Being called to engage with others in bearing prophetic witness is both challenging and disturbing; It sets before those of us who have freely chosen to live our baptismal call as members of a religious congregation some significant questions: Are we clear enough about who we are, what we stand for, and whom we stand with to critique our culture honestly and without bias? Are we passionate enough about our convictions to mirror to our culture the radical concern for the welfare of others that is at the heart of the gospel message? Do we have the generosity of spirit, tenacity, integrity, and resolve to change what needs to be changed in ourselves if we are to be a moral voice and prophetic sign of hope to our world? The prophetic witness to which religious congregations are called has a communal and corporate character. 147 March-April 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic Witness In a world of polarizations, strife, and divisions of every kind, the witness of community and concern for the common good are needed more than ever. God's self-communication takes place in every period of history. Present realities are the locus in which we encounter God. As at every other time, the prophetic role of religious life cannot be furthered without utter reliance on God, attention to and reflection on depth levels of experience, and a commitment to justice making--all fostered by contemplative prayer. Contemplation allows us to see injustice, to confront our own need for conversion, to lament, to see through situations, and to name new possibilities as we engage with the world and attempt to live the gospel. Prophets have a quality of attentiveness that lends integrity and authenticity to their lives. Contemplative attentiveness enables the prophet to hear the cry of the poor, to read the signs of the times, to experience Jesus as liberator and healer, and to pay the price of commitment. Community as a Prophetic Reminder Prophecy is an enduring gift of the Spirit. In the Hebrew Scriptures prophecy was the realm of individuals explicitly called by God to remind those in power that preserving the status quo cannot take precedence over the good of people, especially, the frailest and most vulnerable. In the Christian Scriptures the whole believing community is called to imagine and live toward the reality of God's reign in covenant relationships not only with God but with one another. In both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, caring for the poor and needy is an act of knowing God. A shared faith vision and unity of mind and heart ire identifying characteristics of Christian community. These are beautifully described in Acts 4:32-36: "The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, as everything they owned was held in common. The apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus with great power, and they were all accorded great respect. None of their members was ever in want, as all those who owned land or houses would sell them and bring the money from Review for Religious the sale of them to present to the aposdes; it was then distributed to any who might be in need?' This passage is a wonderful entry point for reflecting on community as a form of prophetic witness. The moral foundation for community lies in the simple fact that human beings need one another. By our vary nature we are meant for relationship. From the cradle to the grave, human beings hunger for bonds of unity, for support and connection. Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche, knows well the power and the pull of community: We are, of course, called to grow and to grow in strength and competence, but this strength is for building up humanity in love, not for our own glory and power. We are not called to be independent islands separated from one another, closed up in self-satisfaction. We are all interconnected, interdependent, called to be one body. The weak need the strong just as the strong need the weak in order not to close up in suicidal acts of power and pride, wounding the child within. The mutual need of hearts is communion. (p. 167) Community is visible where the values of inclusion, participation, generosity, compassion, service, mutuality, shared responsibility, accountability, collective witness, and respect for diversity are put into practice. Living these values is both countercultural and transformative. For almost two thousand years, religious men and women have lived the struggle and sought the goal of community. Community life is an ideal worth keeping. It is a prophetic reminder that all human beings are called to oneness in God. In a world of polarizations, strife, and divisions of every kind, the witness of community and concern for the common good are needed more than ever. The call to unity in diversity is a centralparadox of the gospel as well as a challenge that transcends time and culture. It is a struggle of global proportions that also touches each of us very direcdy in the day-to-day circumstances of our lives in community and in mission. The struggle for unity in diversity can be painful because it involves yielding and relinquishment. Yet it also offers people of faith an opportunity to give transformative prophetic witness. !49 Marcb-Ap141 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic IVitness Issues of oneness and diversity are as old as human history. Anthropologists, historians, and sociologists have written volumes about the human consequences of "consciousness of kind" and "consciousness of difference" as they are played out in war, oppression, discrimination, and decisions about who matters and who does not matter. All of us have been affected by deeply internalized values, assumptions, opinions, stereotypes, and worldviews that consciously or unconsciously govern our behavior. We have all been affected profoundly by arbitrary lines that we humans draw to separate and fragment people and cultures. Yet, at the innermost levels of our being, we long for unity, harmony, wholeness, and a right ordering of relationships: One of the most challenging dimensions of faith is that we are called to oneness in God On 17:21). In struggling to be prophetic signs of unity inclusive of diversity, we have much to learn from a God who loves unconditionally and excludes no one. Throughout his entire life Jesus lived the principle of inclusive love to the fullest. The Gospels are rich with stories of his healing and empowering encounters with men and women of different classes, life experiences, and cultural traditions. Jes9s was a living reminder that harmony exists when wholeness incorporates diversity. In John's Gospel, during the discourse at the Last Supper, Jesus set forth his loving communion with his Father as the model for the love of disciples. The good news of the incarnation is that we are called to that same relationship with God and with one another. This call continues to be a prophetic challenge for our times. Some questions worth pondering with respect to the potential impact of the witness of religious community are: How big is our sense of community? Who is included and who is excluded? How can our modeling of community help to bridge cultural biases, ethnocentric thinking, and learned patterns of prejudice and discrimination? Some Signs of the Times Prophets and prophetic communities have the gift of. being able to read the signs of the times. What are some of the signs of our times that cry out for the healing restoration of community and the witness of prophetic action? As I reflect on .this world and on our compelling call to be prophetic signs of Gbd's all-inclusive love, I am struck by several Review for Religious ruptures in our social fabric that affect us as religious. As we stand on the threshold of the new millennium, our world is devastated by clashes that arise from hate and fear of "people who are not like us." In the cities, neighborhoods, and villages of Africa and Asia, Afghanistan, Northern Ireland, the Mideast, and North, Central, and South America, human beings are trampling on human rights and killing one another over economic, religious, political, racial, ethnic, or cultural differences. Hatred, racism, sexism, intolerance, greed, ,distorted loyalties, terrorism, and fanaticism are jeopardizing the survival of civilization. Worldwide and here in the United States, this sign of the times is challenging religious communities to show in practical ways a compassionate capacity to live together in wholeness without suppressing differences, blaming victims, or scapegoating the vulnerable. The level of violence in the world today is morally intolerable. It transcends national, cultural, and racial boundaries; it is more likely to occur in the home than on the streets; and it devastates the lives of families and children. In the United States alone, twenty-five children, the equivalent of a classroomful, are killed by guns every two days (State of America's Children). It is a national tragedy that inner-city children as young as ten tell psychiatrists and social workers that they think about death all the time. It is a national tragedy that many young black and Hispanic men have little or no hope of living beyond the age of eighteen. It is a national tragedy that one out of every five Americanochildren lives in poverty. It is a national tragedy that forty-one million uninsured lack healthcare coverage. It is a national tragedy that we have forged a culture hostile to .aliens and immigrants. Random shootings, domestic violence, and the killing of children by children are manifestations of systemic problems. Poverty, homelessness, racism, hate crimes, cheapened sexuality, materialism, ecological irresponsibility, and a devaluing of human life are all symptomatic of an erosion of compassion, community, social accountability, and spiritual values. There is something grossly out of balance in our world when the amount of money paid in one yea,r to a star athlete for endorsing a product is more than the combined wages paid to the factory workers who actually made the product (Wallis, p. 92). In the United States, income inequality continues to rise. In 1993, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, the wealthiest 20 percent of Americans earned 48 percent of all household income, ~'Harcb-ApHI 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Propbetic Wifness the highest ever recorded. In terms of poverty rates, the most vulnerable segments of the U.S. population are female-headed households (35 percent), African Americans (33 percent), Hispanics (31 percent), and children (20 percent). At present more than 39 million Americans, more than 15 percent of the population, live below the poverty level (Wallis, p. 95). All this occurs while euphemisms about welfare reform threaten the most helpless women and children in our society. Predictions for the future are bleak if root causes of social breakdown remain t~naddressed. The Children's Defense League projects that if social and economic trends of the last twenty years are allowed to continue, 24 percent of all American children under 18 will be poor by the year 2001; one million babies will be born into poverty each year; 44,000 teen mothers will give birth every month; and 37,000 children will be arrested every week (State of America's Children, p. xxii). Globally we know there is a failure of community when the richest 20 percent of the world's population enjoys 85 percent of the world's income, while the poorest 20 percent struggles to survive on only two percent (1994 U.N. Human Development Report). There is a failure of community when nearly 800 million people face persistent everyday hunger and much larger numbers suffer from malnutrition and temporary hunger ("Hunger--the Facts," pp. 18-19). If the prophets of old were here today, they would have much to lament and alternative possibilities to hold up before us. Prophets have the task of keeping the vision before the people. Prophets are keenly attuned to the critical needs of their time. This is a time when the gospel mandate of love of God and love of neighbor requires much of religious communities, It is a time for us to help regenerate a sense of community from the ground up. It is a time to learn and to teach others how to communicate across boundaries. It is a time to model nonviolent ways of resolving disputes. It is a time to rekindle willingness to support and enable one another in meeting unmet needs. It is a time to raise up questions of the common good. It is a time for a spiritual transformation of attitudes, values, and behaviors, It is a time when actions of the present will profoundly impact the future. It has often been said that the best test of a nation is how it treats children, the poor, strangers, outcasts, the weak, and the vulnerable. The Hebrew prophets saw this as the truest measure of Review for Religious integrity. As religious communities we have a wonderful capacity to be forces for justice and integrity. As we look to the future, do we have the faith, courage, and commitment to be a voice for the voiceless? How strong is our corporate resolve to be creators of community, menders of broken relationships, and healers of a troubled world? The Need for Creative Response As I look back on the history of religious life in the United States, I am awed by how much has been accomplished with so little in the way of material resources. What our forbears were able to do, often in unassuming ways, is truly astounding. It was prophetic reading of the times that prompted them to create Catholic healthcare, an educational system that spans from early childhood to late life, and a bevy of catechetical, pastoral, and social services for'a nation of immigrants. They were pioneers who saw what needed to be done arid ~et about doing it togethdr. Their willingness to sacrifice for what they believed in and their passionate Commitment to God, the church, their congregations, and one another were priceless resources. They were individuals bonded by a shared sense of purpose, experience of communion, and the support of community life. They were men and women whose prophetic witness of community and ministry made significant impact on their times. Among the key findings of the 1992 LCWR Threads for the Loom study of the ministry of women religious is the fact that, even at a time of diminishment, U.S. women religious are persistent in their efforts to respond to urgent needs in a world and society characterized by shifting valties and an unprecedented rate of change. This study provides considerable evidence of concern for the common good and of ongoing responsiveness to populations at risk: children, young people, the elderly, women, families in crisis, and the urban poor. Almost ninety percent of the respondents report that their institutes have enabled uncompensated ministry with the materially poor. Eighty-five percent indicate that their institutes have sponsored works that imply attentiveness to As religious communities we have a wonderful capacity to be forces for justice and integrity. March-April 1997 Munley ¯ Community and Prophetic Witness emerging needs. Almost thirty percent say that their institutes have created new not-for-profit corporations. Of these, almost sixty percent describe the new ministry corporations as addressing various needs for housing. In terms of projections, fifty percent of the participants in this study predicted an increase in the number of their sisters who would be serving five needy population groups by 1996: the homeless, women, persons with AIDS, the elderly, and persons for whom English is a second language. Community leaders also projected increased involvement of their sisters in programs concerned with hunger, housing, unemployment, infant and child day care, latchkey children, adult day care, women's resource centers, English as a second language, ecology, and peace. In the various institutes' statements regarding future directions for ministry, five themes emerged: a preferential option f6r and solidarity with the poor; the promotion of systemic change; ministry with and empowerment of women; collaboration with other groups and other religious institutes; and ministry with children, young people, and families in distress. How accurate were these projections? Information about various collaborative ministry projects gathered by LCWR from 1994 to the present suggests that religious institutes across the country--in collaboration with one another and with dioceses and civic and social agencies--are responding to those in greatest need with creativity, ingenuity, and significant sharing of resources. Most of the projects focus on the needs of poor women or of poor women and children. Areas of ministry targeted by the projects include education on all levels, literacy, housing, domestic violence, homelessness, healthcare, crisis intervention, empowerment, after-school programs, social services, and retreat work.~Many of these ministries serve multicultural populations. None of them would have come into being without the commitment and participation of religious communities. In Vita consecrata the religious of the world are urged to respond to the needs of the times with "creative fidelity" to, their charisms. Like the prophets, of old, with an eye to the contemporary scene and an ear attuned to God, religious communities are attempting to do this. Tl~e fact that religious live a common life enables and sustains empowering ministry among God's people. At a time when many forces converge to make God less visible in society, the witness of community life is a sign of the Review for Religious beauty and power of God's love at work in our world. The reign of God is both here and not yet. Contemplative attention to the injustices, sufferings, and spiritual hungers of our day shows that much is needed for our wounded world's healing. Yet, through the goodness of God, so much has begun. Some words of the poet Denise Levertov invite further reflection: How could we tire of hope? --so much is in bud. How can desire fail? --we have only begun. Works Cited Chittister, Joan. The Fire in These Ashes. Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995. "Hunger--the Facts." New Internationalist. May 1995: 18-19. Lahr, Dolores. Collaborative Ministry Projects: 1994, 199Y, and 1996 vol-umes. Silver Sj3ring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1994, 1995, and 1996. Levertov, Denise. "Beginners." In Cries of the Spirit, edited by Marilyn Sewell. Boston: Beacon Press, 1991. Munley, Anne. Threads for the Loom. Silver Spring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1992. I~94 Unite~ Nations Human Development Report. New York: United Nations, 1994. The State of America's Children: Yearbook 1994. Washington, D.C.: Children's Defense Fund, 1994. U.S, Census Bureau. The Dynamics of Economic Well-Being: Poverty 1990- 1992. Washingtonl D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1995. Va.nier, Jean. Jesus the Gift of Love. New York: Crossroad, 1994. Wallis, Jim. Who Speaks for God? New York: Delacorte Press, 1996. I55 ~larch-April 1997 KENNETH C. RUSSELL John Cassian on Asceticism lenten reflections Asceticism has not only acquired a bad reputation, it sim-ply no longer seems relevant. It does not help, of course, that for some people the very word conjures up images of hairshirts and spiked belts, of frenzied monks beating themselves black and blue with lead-studded Whips, and of hermits in narrow cells hooking their knotted hair to nails in the wall to hold themselves upright while they sleep. Even in its more prosaic forms, asceticism suggests "self-denial," the disciplining of the "sinful" body. Try as they may to justify these various practices, many people of the 1990s feel uncomfortable with the body-soul split that makes the corporeal aspect of their being the enemy to be overcome. They readily subscribe, therefore, to the view that traditional asceticism was essentially a Greek-inspired aberration that is better left behind, now that people fully appreciate the body-soul integrity of their human nature. They welcome the idea that a new, unselfish, socially-oriented asceticism, in which people expend them-selves in the service of their neighbor, has pushed aside an earlier version that was self-centered and focused on pun-ishing the body. The new asceticism, after all, is about being in the world rather than escapingfr0m it. This is all well and good, but unfortunately we of the 1990s still find ourselves drinking too much, eating too much or too little, driven by ambition, anxious, worried, Kenneth C. Russell, now retired from St. Paul University in Ottawa, lives at 1505-40 Landry Street; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. Review for Religious sad, or perhaps simply adrift. Our discomfort with the way we are forces us to seek the assistance of therapists, psychiatrists, and self-help books. The one place where we seldom go for help is tra-ditional asceticism. We may continue to pay lip service to it, but it is forever associated in our minds with an anti-body stance we find repugnant. It is no longer relevant. This point is repeated over and over again in articles and talks. But is it true? Certainly at some point something did go wrong with asceticism. At some point asceticism became a primarily puni-tive, penitential action aimed at the body. This is undeniable. But does this fact--which must, of course, be qualified far more than I have time to do here--justify the presumption that traditional asceti-cism was skewed from the very beginning? Was there perhaps something good there after all? In fact, how can we even jump to the conclusion that asceticism was one tightly unified doctrine in the early church, given the differ-ences between Basil, Augustine, Evagrius, Jerome, and many oth-ers? If the Greek attitude toward the body was indeed a virus that Cassian's keen awareness of psychology and spiritual development provides a basis for the integration of the practical wisdom of the desert and modern psychology. infected Christian thinking, would it not have infected the thought of some writers more than others? Would these ideas not be stronger in one place than in another? Scholars love to ponder the erudite works of Evagrius Ponticus, the courtier turned her-mit, but is it so certain that theory predominated over practice in the heat of the Egyptian desert, where most of the hermits were uneducated peasants? In our rush to move on, are we seeing unity where in. fact there was diversity? Have we stopped listening to the past on the issue of asceticism simply because "the anti-body, Greek aberration" label we encounter so often has led us to pre-sume that what is being said there is not worth our full attention? I want to challenge this fashionable writing off of the past by examining John Cassian's basic theories on asceticism. I have cho-sen Cassian (ca. 365-ca. 435) for several reasons. First, he was one of the major channels through which the ascetical tradition of the Egyptian desert reached Western monasticism. As everyone knows, ~S¢larch-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism St. Benedict's Rule recommends the reading of Cassian's Institutes and Conferences. Secdnd, it is my conviction that Cassian's keen awareness of psychology and spiritual development provides a basis for the integration of the practical wisdom of the desert and mod-ern psychology. In other words, I maintain that, if we hope to reconstruct a healing, reformative asceticism that respects our human nature and spiritual destiny, we must go back to Cassian and build from there. Be that as it may, my immediate purpose is merely to demonstrate that the "anti-body" label routinely attached to the teaching of the Fathers is not necessarily accurate. I want to look at three elements of John Cassian's thought. First, his anthropology. How does he understand the interaction of the body and the mind, the flesh and the spirit? What does he make of the tension between them? Second, I want to examine the goal and purpose of asceticism as they are set out in his writ-ings. Third, I want to consider his teaching on the various "pas-sions" that afflict us because, unless we accurately hear what he has to say about these compulsive patterns of behavior, we will not appreciate the therapeutic dimension of his thought. Anthropology "How authors deal 5vith the tension between flesh and spirit vividlydescribed by St. Paul (Ga 5:17 and Rm 7-8) is surely the touchstone by which their view of human nature may be assessed. Cassian discusses this issue in his fourth conference, which is sup-posedly spoken to Cassian and his traveling companion Germanus by Abba Daniel, one of the desert masters of the spiritual life. I call attention, first, to Cassian's fundamentally optimistic stance toward the way thin'gs are. He insists that the tension between flesh and spirit has been implanted in us by God. How, then, he asks, can something that God has implanted in each of us possi-bly be harmful rather than helpful? We note here something that recurs throughout Cassian's writings: the conviction that a mea-sure of struggle and stress is good for us: This conflict implanted in us by the arrangement of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and calls and urges us on to a higher state; and, if it ceased, most surely would ensue on the other hand a peace that is fraught with danger.* Cassian would rather have us involved in a moral struggle than see us calmly drifting along in what amounts to a false peace. Review for Religious The weakness of the flesh keeps the soaring spirit realistic, while the spirit keeps the flesh from reducing life to food, drink, and sex. In John Cassian's oddly existentialist view of life, there is no gain without pain. We become human by taking hold of the ele-ments of our life and dealing with them. Our identity, we might say, is not given at birth, but achieved by the effort to become an adult. Difficulties, pains, and struggles of various kinds are seen, therefore, as grace-given opportunities for advancement. Cassian teaches that we must deal with our "carnality," that we must accept the challenges it poses for us, because the peaceful alternative, which might well look appealing, is actually a descent into animality. Animals live in the given without struggle. We human beings become animal, not when we become carnal, but when we aban'don efforts to become human by effecting a peace-ful consortium of body and soul. The carnal condition of human-ity, uncomfortable as it may be at times, is therefore a great blessing. But how does Cassian interpret Paul's reference to "flesh" and "spirit"? He begins by remarking that flesh has various mean-ings in the Bible. Sometimes it refers to the whole human beirig, body and soul; at other times, to people as sinners or to the sins themselves. It can also indicate a "flesh of my flesh" closeness. But he argues that, in Paul's reference to the conflict between flesh and spirit, the two terms have an active rather than a sub-stantive meaning. They indicate the direction of the will, the ori-entation of the whole being. Flesh is an orientation toward the delights of the present life: a full stomach and a sound night's sleep. Spirit thirsts for spiritual things even to the extent of being in danger of neglecting the body's needs. We are not far here from the argument of modern exegetes who maintain that spirit is the'whole being under the influence of the Spirit and that flesh is the human being alienated from God and focused on lesser ends. We note, however, that Cassian asso-ciates "flesh" with the body inasmuch as the body is the vehicle of present delights--although this is balanced by his realization that "spirit," the basic orientation toward God and virtue, can be exces-sive and can lead us to disregard the needs of our fragile bodies. Consequently, in Cassian's view, the struggle we experience within us is between our spiritual aspirations and the basic needs of the body. We must opt for spirit, but not to such an extent that we try to bypass our human reality. 2~larch-Apri11997 Russell ¯ .~obn Cassian on Asceticism In fact, as we have seen, we achieve our full human stature precisely through t,.his flesh-spirit conflict: When, in consequence of the lukewarmness arising from this sluggish will of which we have spoken; the mind has been more easily entangled in carnal desires, it is checked by the desire of the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in~ earthly sins; and again, if through overmuch feeling our spirit has been carried in unbounded fervor towards ill-con-sidered and impossible heights, it is recalled by the weakness of the flesh to sounder considerations and, rising above the lukewarm condition of our free will with due proportion and even course, proceeds along the way of perfection? We must keep in mind that Cassian sees this tug and pull of flesh and spirit as a limitation that is a blessing from God. He puts it on a par with the fracturing of the universal language at the Tower of Babel, which, in his view, rescued humanity from its pride by reminding it of its fragility. In Cassian's opinion, the struggle between flesh and spirit keeps us conscious that we are human. Actually, the bo.dy's needs serve Cassian as the norm by which the appropriateness or excessiveness of asceticism may be mea-sured. The body's legitimate needs moderate any spiritual exces-siveness that tries to bypass or ignore our human condition: "We ought to refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the proper time even if we dislike it.''3 Indeed, Cassian insists that it would be cruel to fast when the body needs food. It would be equally wrong to deprive the body of the sleep it needs. In fact, the failure to meet the body's need of both nutrition and rest backfires because the imprudent ascetic is left feeling weak and drowsy. Excess, in other words, interferes with the alertness and strength needed to maintain a vigorous life of prayer. It is important to keep this principle of meeting the body's needs in mind because it will moderate our shock at the asceticism the Desert Fathers actually practiced. We must realize that, when Cassian's interlocutors suggest for each day two hardtack buns weighing scarcely a pound, a little water, and a few hours sleep overnight, they are conforming to their understanding of what the body's needs are. They are not out to hurt the body or even to deny it anything necessary for its well-being. They are simply attempting to pare away all excess. A softer image of Cassian's attitude toward the body is given in the last paragraphs of several conferences where we see the abba break off his talk to ensure that his listeners get the sleep they Review for Religious need. In one conference there is even a delightful account of an abba setting a mouth-watering Sunday banquet before his guests. Each monk present is served three olives, five chick-peas, two prunes, and one fig, in addition to the normal allotment of bread! Little touches such as this make the desert seem a human place despite the austerities that were practiced there. There are other stories, unfortunately, which indicate that some hermits refused to respect the body-spirit reality of the human condition, One solitary went to such extremes in fasting and solitude that he lost his mental bal-ance and became convinced that, should he fall from a great height, he would be borne up on angel wings. He died from his injuries shortly after putting his theory to the test. Cassian emphasizes that, if we avoid the flesh-spirit conflict, we turn into animals. He also emphasizes that, if we act as though we are angels without a human body, we run the risk of spiritual shipwreck. Too little food and sleep is just as bad as too much food and sleep, "for excess of fasting and gluttony come to the same thing, and an unlimited continuance of vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the torpor of deep sleep.''4 The extremes touch.In relation to the body, therefore, asceticism is about meeting needs rather than satisfying desires. The problem, obviously, is that we want more than we need. Asceticism does not ignore human needs; it refuses to cater to excessive desires. Although Cassian advocates an aus-tere ascetical regime, the theory behind it is a long way from the self-denying, penitential asceticism with which we are familiar. It has a different basis altogether. It also has a different purpose. People today often associate asceticism With the effort to gain self-control through a "mind over matter" exercise, or they think of it as penance done for sins committed. Cassian sees it, however, as a more integral part of the spiritual life. This is particularly significant for the monastic audience he addresses. In fact, in the first conference of the series, Abba Moses identifies the ascetical life with the monastic life itself. Asceticism does not ignore human needs; it refuses to cater to excessive desires. The Goal and Purpose of Asceticism Every art or discipline, Abba MoseS points out, has two goals: :lqarch-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism one immediate and the other long-range. The immediate goal serves as the means to attain the ultimate goal. A farmer, for exam-ple, works hard to have a good yield from his fields. The boun-tiful harvest constitutes his immediate goal. It is the sine qua non of the good life that is his ultimate aim. What, Abba Moses asks, is the ultimate aim of the monk, and what is the immediate goal which serves as the necessary means to that end? Cassian and Germanus answer that the final aim of the monas-tic life--its ultimate goal--is the kingdom of God. But what, they ask, is the immediate goal by which the ultimate end is attained, partially by hints here and now and completely in the life to come? Abba Moses replies: Purity of heart. We must not be too quick to write off "purity of heart" as merely a biblical expression that enables Cassian to sidestep the negative connotations the West associated with apatheia. Nor must we let our awareness of how much Cassian the practitioner owes to Evagrius the theoretician lead us to conclude that purity of heart is merely apatheia masquerading under another name. The best way to detour around our prejudices about either term is to consider what "purity of heart" actually means in Cassian's works. First of all, it is synonymous with holiness. It is sanctity achieved, if we may use such an acquisitive adjective for a grace-given condition. Cassian makes the correspondence between love and purity of heart clear when he says that the goal of asceticism is "purity of heart, which is charity." This is really the point of the ascetical practices: "that through them we may be enabled to prepare our heart and to keep it unharmed by all evil passions, and resting on these steps to mount to the perfection of charity.''5 Purity of heart is, consequently, the condition of peo-ple so possessed by love that they act spontaneously out of love rather than out of concupiscence. The Passions When Cassian talks about purity of heart or perfect love, he means more than a noble intention or act of will. He has in mind a spontaneous, unfailing readiness to act out of love. Love, in other words, must become the energy driving all our actions. We must become loving. It is easy to say we love God, but the fact of the matter is that all kinds of behavior patterns automatically spring into action Review for Religious throughout the day to contradict our words. Let someone cut us off in traffic and we respond aggressively without thinking. Let some coworker boast a bit, and we find ourselves competitively parading our own petty triumphs for applause. We say we love God above all things, but we render ourselves less fit for service by habits of eating and drinking that are detrimental to our health. Or, taking the opposite tack, we give such strict attention to what we eat and drink that we ourselves seem to assume first place in the universe. We seem, in short, to be pro-grammed by our training and habits to act in certain ways. These automatic patterns of behavior, these pressures, these compulsions, are what Cassian refers to when he speaks about "the passions." He looks at human beings from a phenomenological point of view. What he sees is that one person is prone to eat too much and another, too little; that one individual is pulled toward greed and another toward lust. He sees that this is the way things are, but, unlike ourselves, who are under the influence of Freud, he has no interest in discovering why this person feels one compulsion and that person quite another, The immediate problem itself is what holds his attention. What is evident is that, whatever our self-centered reactions may be, they interfere with our desire to love God and neighbor. We say we love, but we are not sponta-neously loving. We still act in ways that are against God, our neighbor, and our own well-being. Cassian is not really preoccupied with gluttons, sex-fiends, or proud dictators trying to dominate the world. He is concerned, not with vices, but with the traces of them in good, morally upright Christians who are striving to do their best. He is talking, therefore, not about sins, but about the moral diseases which afflict us. If these diseases go untreated, they can indeed take over our whole life; they can become vices. As the list Cassian received from Evagrius Ponticus passed through time, it became a list of vices or capital sins. But we must bear in mind that for Cassian it is a list of diseases, which call for healing. Sickness, not guilt, is the primary reality, and the issue is not how we got this way but what we are going to do about it. When Cassian talks about purity of heart or perfect love, he has in mind a spontaneous, unfailing readiness to act out of love. March-Ap~q11997 Russell * ~obn Cassian on Asceticism These pressures we experience stand in the way of purity of heart or perfect love. We are not well. Cassian, therefore, asks: How do we get better? The same question could be formulated in different terms: How do we find freedom? How can we acquire a tranquil mind and be at peace with God, neighbor, the world, and our very self?. This is a medical question, at least metaphorically. Ca~sian, therefore, takes a medical approach and offers a medical answer. His medical orientation is evident, first of all, in the diagnostic model he employs. Anyone who has read the Greek historian Thucydides' vivid description of the bubonic plague that struck Athens in 430 B.C. (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book 2) is familiar with the Greek diagnostic technique. This approach meticulously notes the symptoms of an illness, its development, and, finally, what it is like at its most virulent stage when it has, in effect, taken over a person's life. Cassian deals briefly with disordered eating, sexual tension, avarice, anger, sadness, acedia, vainglory, and pride in conference 5, but he discusses each one at length in a series of studies in his Institutions (Books 5-12). The usual procedure is for the symp-toms of the disease to be outlined and a full-blown case to be described. The case studies actually make this 5th-century work seem very contemporary, for it is precisely this approach we are used to encountering in books and articles popularizing various psychological theories. This is an important point because it reminds us that Cassian's conception of asceticism is broader than our own. Cassian is deal-ing with complex psychospiritual and social elements which press an individual in one direction or another. Asceticism, therefore, is as much about psychology as it is about spirituality. Cassian, in fact, has a holistic view of human nature. He is trying to solve human problems, and, since he does not share our piecemeal view that this is a psychological problem while that is a spiritual prob-lem, his asceticism aspires to cure the Whole person. What he communicates in his examples, therefore, is the psy-chological and spiritual wisdom of the Egyptian desert. This wis-dom can be brought into dialogue with our own knowledge of psychology so that a mutual enrichment and correction can take place. At the very least, this awareness of the psychological dimen-sion of asceticism should force us to integrate asceticism into the whole story of our life instead of letting it sit on the periphery like Review for Religious some alien technique that has little to do with our total growth. If asceticism is about punishing or disciplining the wayward body, we feel we. can live without it. But, if asceticism is about coming to grips with the psychospiritual and social pressures we experi-ence, then it may indeed have a place in our lives. Cassian uses the medical model to shape the large-scale struc-ture of his studies on the passions. It is even more significant, however, that he uses medical terminology to discuss moral issues. Such words as "illness" and "infection," "remedy" and "cure," are found throughout Cassian's works. Their recurrence reinforces the point that what is at issue is sickness and healing, not sin and punishment. When asceticism is linked to sin and punishment, it follows that, though one form of penance may be harder than another, they are all essentially the same. They differ only in how quickly or how slowly they expiate sin. Once this prin-ciple is accepted, people can balance their penitential accounts by .substituting a long penance for a shorter but harder one. In fact, all kinds of ingenious equiv-alencies become possible. For example, when King Henry II received three years on crusade as part of his. penance for the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket, he arranged to substitute the establishment of three monasteries for the period of military service. But, if asceticism is viewed as therapeutic, one ascetical strat-egy cannot be substituted for another. One ascetical effort, like some medications, may be helpful in treating more than one ill-ness, but by and large the forms of asceticism are not inter-changeable. If acedia (a sort of listless discontent with where we are and what we are doing) is the problem, "taking" the remedy for sadness is not going to help. The struggle against acedia, the infamous "noonday demon" of the desert, demands that we hold on hard to the doorposts of our cell so that nothing can pull us away from it, while the strug-gle against sadness requires us to force our way through the dark-ness to fix our eyes on our future hope. Both of these ascetical strategies are actually more psychological than physical, but this If asceticism is about coming to grip.s with the psychospiritual and social pressures we experience, then it may indeed have a place in our lives. 16Y March-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism only serves to underline that Cassian does not think of asceticism as a purely physical action to discipline the body. If our spiritual problem is in the mind, disciplining the body does not make much sense. Practicing some physical form of asceticism while ignoring the mental dimension of all we do leads to failure. Thus, although Cassian recommends fasting as an effective remedy for sexual ten-sion, he is also aware of the psychological, aspects of the prob-lem. He insists that we take care not to let ourselves become overly pressured by our work or other preoccupations. Cassian's medical bag does not contain a plethora of physical means of asceticism. There is little more than fasting and vigils or, in other words, the regulation of food and sleep. In both cases the plan is to have not less than needed, but the barebones right amount with no excess for self-indulgence. Fasting is not a mat-ter of eating less on certain days, but of eating the same amount later in the day than usual. The hungry hermit's question was not "How much will I eat today?" but "Will I eat once or twice today and when?" Fasting, however, does serve Cassian as a kind of basic rem-edy to accompany all other prescriptions. Fasting, after all, strikes at our drive to put ourselves at the center of the world, with all other things and people for our use. Nothing is more self-cen-tered, assertive, and potentially aggressive than eating. It is a miniaturization of our readiness to ingest the world. Fasting reins in this egocentricity and ensures that eating serve the needs of the body rather than the expansive claims of the imperial self. Disordered eating--overeating, undereating, eating at inap-propriate times, and so forth--stands at the head of the list of passions Cassian inherited. There was a tendency, therefore, for some of the monks in the Egyptian desert to think that, if they could stave off moral decline by remedying any tendency to dis-ordered eating by fasting, they would have nothing further to worry about. They thought, in effect, that if they stopped the moral ball from tumbling down the hill by giving all their atten-tion to disordered eating, they would not have to tackle the other passions in the list. This is naive, of course, and a misunder-standing of the moral complexity the list describes. It also makes fasting far more important than it should be. It becomes the sole and exclusive key to peace of heart and tranquillity of mind. Worst of all, since this view of asceticism separates fasting from a ther~ apeutic context, it encourages an anti-body attitude. Review for Religious Cassian considers untenable the notion that fasting is all there is to asceticism and moral reform. He has three reasbns. First, noting that some passions have a physical origin, that others have a mental one, and that still others stem from both mind and body, he shows that fasting leaves one of these groups untouched. Second, although Cassian has been accused of semi-Pelagianism for his inept opposition to Augustine's darker view of fallen human nature, he makes it clear that asceticism is merely a means to an end--no more than a tool--and that the ascetical practices of the Egyptian desert are merely one set of tools; another set includes almsgiving and social service. Third, and most important, what-ever means a person may use, the result ultimately depends on the grace of God. The tools must not become an end in them-selves, for all the fasting and sleeplessness in the world are not going to merit salvation for a monk. Two Ways of Looking at Cassian There are two ways of looking at John Cassian's work. If we make a point of standing back to get an objective view, we are likely to see a body of writings focused exclusively on a monastic, ascetical lifestyle far from the world of commerce and family life. Even admitting that Cassian must have been aware that sanctity can be attained at least occasionally along a different path, we might still find in him an obsession with monasticism that seems an implicit denigration of the other, active forms of Christian life. Moreover, the asceticism he puts forward as moderate may strike us as severe. Indeed, the whole ascetical regime of the desert hermits may suggest that the Egyptian desert was a highly com-petitive place where altogether too much attention was paid to the quest for personal sanctity. This view, I would argue, is the product of a superficial reading. In this article we have tried, on the contrary, to look at Cassian's teaching on asceticism from his own point of view. This leaves us with the idea tl~at asceticism is a therapeutic tool to recondition, under grace, the reactions of body and mind so that all our actions, even those we perform spontaneously without thought, will be in harmony with our int6ntion to love God, our neighbor, and ourselves. Cassian was in error about how much food and sleep the body needs. It is also evident that his teachings on the passions need to 2~larcb-April 1997 Russell ¯ ~obn Cassian on Asceticism be corrected in some instances and supplemented in all of them. We cannot follow him, for example, in his effort to eradicate anger because, unlike him, we appreciate that the inclination to anger plays a positive role in human life. But, by and large, Cassian's orientation is sound and wholesome. In the secular world in which we live, we realize that for many reasons we are not the free, healthy human persons we would like to be, and so we seek to be healed. In this, Cassian shares our point of view. He sees asceticism as a therapeutic program to help people .toward their ultimate goal. In addition, far from spurn-ing our bodily reality, he insists that it be recognized and respected. His teaching challenges the conviction common today that early asceticism was always a body-hating aberration of the Greek mind-set. I suggest, moreover, that Cassian's writings of sixteen hundred years ago provide healthy roots on which today's Christians might graft a hardy new synthesis of spirituality and contemporary psychology for third-millennial people on their journey to God. Notes t John Cassian, Conference 4.7, in Edgar C.S. Gibson, "The Works of John Cassian," in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fatbers, 2nd series, vol. 11, A Select Library of the Christian Church (Oxford: James Parker and Co., 1894, reprinted by William B. Eerdmans in 1964), p. 333. 2 Conference 4.12, p. 335. 3 Conference 2.17, p. 316. 4 Conference 2.16, p. 316. s Conference 1.7, p. 297. Mary's Steps Childish toes kiss temple stairs. Maiden soles take joy's fleet wing. Fleeing heels, in exile bound. Searching feet, he must be found. Weary ~steps