Suchergebnisse

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

Issue 29.3 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint louis, Missouri 63~ o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgto6. + + +. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly/ and copyright ~) 1970 by at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U,S.A. Second cla~ ~stage paid at ~ltimo~, Mawland and at additional mailing offices. S~gle capita: $1.~. Su~cfiption U,S.A. and Canada: $5.~ a year, $9.~ for two yea~; oth~ coun~: $5,~ a year, $10.~ for two yea~. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVtEW FOR RI:LIGIOL'S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent R.EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom* paaied by a remittance, should be sent to Fan R~m~m.s; P. O. ~x 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busin~ correspondence, and orders not accompanid by RELIGIOUS; 4~8 East Preston Street; Balfimo~, Ma~land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard; Saint Louis, Mi~ouri 63103. Qu~tions for answering should be sent to the addr¢~ of the Qu~fions and ~swe~ ~itor. MAY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 3 HERBERT FRANCIS SMITH, S.J. A Method for Eliminatin Method in Prayer Mental prayer is, .or should be, one of the most per-sonal of all activities. It is an interpersonal event in-volving mutual love and self-communication, and noth-ing is more personal than loving. -Still, beginners in mental prayer usually need helpful hints drawn from-the lives of the saints and others pro-ficient in prayer. These helpful hints come down, in practice, to a method of prayer. Here is a genuine dilemma. A method is an invasion of prayer; a lack of method means inability to pray. How do we solve the dilemma? By giving, beginners a method o[ prayer together with insistence that they jettison the method as soon as they can proceed without it. Among another class of meditators an even more serious dilemma arises. These are the people who have made progress in prayer and withdrawn from method for a while, only to find now that their spontaneous prayer has grown sterile. They seem to need method once again, only now the happy remembrances of per-sonalized prayer induces such a revulsion for method that they are tempted simply to drift rather than submit to codified guidelines anymore. It is above all to the people in the second dilemma that I propose a method for eliminating method in prayer. What these people really need is a method of preparing themselves for prayer. They need a method outside oI prayer Ior eliminating method in prayer. This method for eliminating method is, therefore, not for beginners. It presupposes one experienced in prayer. The method for eliminating method contains, 4- 4- 4- Herbert F. Smith, $.J., r~ides at Joseph s College in Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19131. VOLUME 29, ].970 345 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS incidentally and subordinately, a method to be used in prayer in emergencies. This contingency use will be ex-plained later. It is my con~,ictioh that virtually all who .pray men-tally, need some method of preparing for prayer if they. want optimal prayer and progress in prayer. For this reason I recbmmend the method of eliminating method even to those who are not conscious of either of the ~t~lemmas presented above. The preparation for prayer to be proposed here.can be used as a method ~or elimi-nating method above all by those who have reached the prayer of faith or even gone byond it.1 As a preparation for prayer which can be taken into prayer, what I am going to say here will be as salutary for beginners in prayer as for anyone. For clarity's sake, I will divide this article into three parts: the preparation for prayer; the prayer itself; and the post-prayer activity. Preparation [or Prayer The'best time to make preparation for the next day's mental prayer is in ttie evening before retiring. This is true even if the mental prayer is not to' take place in the morning. The reason for this insistence on the night l~reparation is the nature of the human psyche. Human "thought needs an incubation period in which to germi-nate and gestate. We are inclined" to theidea that all of our thinking is done. consciously; but the fact is, as Freud noted, that conscious psychic activi~ is only the latest arrival 'on the scene of psychic life. The soul never sleeps, and the night can be used to, good purpose if one collects himself to God before he retires. God "gives .to His beloved in sleep" (Ps 127:2). Evening recollection is important even in the shape it gives our dreams. Fur-thermore, preparation for prayer gives our thoughts a definite focus that ~eeds both our conscious aiad sub-liminal psychic processes dui:ing the day. Many great breakthroughs in human .thought have flashed into consciousness at moments when the subject of the in-sight was ~ving all his conscious attention to some other affair. This is proof enough that the inner life of man goes about the concerns of his heart even when he is least aware of it. These gifts from the inner life, how-ever, are not altogether gratuitous. We must plant our questions and our hopes consciously if we want our sub-conscious to give the increase. We do just tha~ by making evening preparation for" the next day's mental prayer. Once we become proficient at ma~ng this preparation for mental prayer, it need take no more than three or ~. ,1 To review the stages of prayer, see a book like Dom Godefroid Belorgey's The Practice of Mental Prayer. four minutes. Initially, tho~gh, ten or fifteen minutes are required. An ideal way to begin tlte preparation is to read a passage from the Gospels; il only for a minute or two. Then lay the Gospels aside and ask oneself the critical question: What do I want to meditate about? At stake here is the insistent fact thatI prayer ought to begin with oneself. A brief reading from the Gospels can establish the climate of prayer, but ~nly the person himself can specify the optimal start"ing point. To automatically meditate on the passage jus~t read can be a fatal error for the next day's meditation. Of course, if a person yearns to take up the Gospels and make them the sub-ject of his meditation, he shbuld do it, but because it is his desire, that is, because i~a reality he is starting with his desire, that is, himself. In prayer, I must begin with myself. I am the only apt launching platform for my prayer. The reason is that prayer, z's has already been said, is one of the most per-sonal of all activities. To ~start with something other than self is to make of medi'tation a study rather than a prayer. No one who wrote a book of meditation points months ago or years ago can tell me here and now what I want to meditate about. Here and now the points probably would not be apt for the authorl Those who use point books ought to us them as I suggest they use the Gospels. Read a set of points, lay the book aside, and ask: Now what do I want to meditate about? If the answer is: The points I hav~ ~ust read, do not use them ¯ exactly as they are, but personahze them according to the method I will introduce shortly. If it can be said as a general truth that failure to ad-dress God in prayer signals failure to love Him, it can also be said that failure to pray personally enough is failure to love rxghtly. Accordingly, we must discover apt and personal prayer eacliI single day. Apt and personal prayer can only start with myself, as I am here and now, thins day, this evening, with its whole train of circumstance.s, concerns, and desires. If simply ignore the whole existential situation, and let a book impose a prayer subject upon me according to such a random determinantt as the page I happen to be on, my prayer cannot possibly emanate from .that per-sonal psychic center where my in-depth living is going on. The result is that neithe~r my heart nor my attention will be captured by my pr~ayer. I will remain divided between my concerns and my prayer. Approaching the same point from another avenue, we can say that there is no really deep prayer without rec-ollecuon, and there xs no recollectxon wxthout presence to the self. I must be collect~d to myself and my deepest ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 1970 34? + ÷ H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 concerns before I can communicate myself to God or to any other. Only if a man enters those inner depths of the self where what he really is, unknown to others and often even to himself, is operative, can he enter into profound relationship with He-who-is. Profound rela-tionships depend on self-communication. The man who does not possess himself cannot communicate himself. We have all had dinner with someone so distracted by every trivial occurrence in the room that he was no com-pamon at all. His hollow presence was an insult. The Lord Himself likens prayer to an intimate evening meal together: "Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him" (Rev 3:20). I must, then, choose my own topic and make my own points out of my own reality to release my own love. That is, I must do this unless lack of prayer experience, exhaustion, or utter dryness compels me to go for help to another. When that happens I must return as soon as possible to my own initiative. My own points may not sound as sublime as the ones in the book. They may not be as sublime, but they may be much more power-ful in moving my emotions, my insights, my convictions, and my actions. A man must bring his current hopes, expectations, frustrations, concerns, and desires into his preparation. Please note: I am not saying: "Make your problems your prayer; bring your problems into your prayer." Such ad-vice would in no way constitute a method for eliminat-ing method in prayer. I am saying: do bring your prob- .lems into your preparation for prayer so that you will not have to drag them into your prayer. In your prep-aration begin with your current concerns; and within the few minutes it takes to prepare points, you will often see that they are really trivial matters yapping at your heels and demanding of you an outsize amount of concern and worry. By giving them your sharp attention for a moment, you can "spank them and put them to bed," and then go far beyond them to give your freed attention to the realest, deepest concerns of your inner self. Only in this way are you likely to have the undi-vided attention absolutely necessary to pursue your real desire, which, in advanced prayer, is to find your Be-loved. There are times when a person's preparation will be-gin with a current problem and end with a current problem. Finel If that is as far as he can get, he has dis-covered that the concern is grave enough to require his prayer time. He can now make his concern his prayer instead of letting it be a distraction--which it certainly would have been if even his full attention cannot put it to rest. I believe many of our worries and concerns continue to plague us only because we never dearly and definitively bring them to our own attention, resolve to do what we can about them, and then commit them to God. We neither focus our minds on the problems nor free ourselves of the problems, and so they continue to wear away both us and our prayer. This approach will gradually eliminate our parasitic worries and cause our other concerns to fall into per-spective and subside. When the surface calms, we will begin to be able to look into our depths and to see clearly once again our realest longings and desires and concerns. Then and only then can we make them the part of our prayer and our lives that they deserve to be. We have triumphed over the distractions, decoys, and red herrings. We are on the way to finding our true selves. It is difficult for a man to find himself, especially in the beginning. It takes courage to seek out what we are. It takes industry to reject the laziness of rote. It takes energy to think and probe. None of us want to use method, but some are really too lazy or too insecure to do anything else. Yet it is only by entering deeply, per-sonally, subjectively into prayer, and engaging in a genuine personal relationship with Jesus that we can avoid reducing prayer to a mere surface phenomenon incapable of producing fire in mind and heart, and so incapable of catalyzing that inner renewal of mind and heart which the Gospels call raetanoia. Let me quote what the great psychiatrist Karl Jung has to say about the failure to adopt an in-depth approach to Christian-ity: The demand made by lmitatio Christi, i.e., to follow the ideal and seek to become like it, should have the resuIt of developing and exalting the inner man. In actual fact, however, the ideal has been turned by superficial and mechanical-minded believers into an object of worship external to them, an out-ward show which, precisely because of the veneration accorded it, cannot reach down into the depths of the psyche and trans-form it into a wholeness harmonising with that ideal. Accord-ingly the .divine mediator stands outside as an image, while man remains fragmentary and untouched in the deepest part of him. Christ can indeed be imitated to the point of stigmati-zation without the imitator's even remotely approaching the ideal or heeding its meaning; the point here is not a mere imitation that leaves a man unchanged and makes him into an artifact--it is rather a matter of realizing the ideal on one's own account (Deo concedente) in the sphere of one's individual life? The cowards who fear entering into themselves or into ~C. G. Jung, Psychological Reflections, ed. by Jolande Jacobi (New York: 1961), p. 279. 4- Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 349 4. 4. 4. H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 Christ will never make real progress in prayer or salva-tion: "But the legacy for cowards., is the second death in the lake of sulphur" (Rev 21:8). It is much easier to fall into some one else's thought pattern than to plough my own way into the future through the use of my own personality, my own initia-tive, my own efforts to think. It is much easier to use someone else's points for meditation than to generate my own. The sad thing is that unless I choose my own sub-ject for meditation and formulate my own points, I will journey in some one else's direction, not my own. I will enter into his thoughts, not mine. I will enter into his self-discovery, and not necessarily discover myself. When we want objective truth, we must go the Church and to all wise men. But when it is a matter of legitimate per-sonal concerns and paths to happiness, there is no sub-stitute for one's own inner voice. The Book of Sirach has some telling words on the point: Finally, stick to the advice your own hear~gives you, no one can be truer to you than that; since a man's own soul often forewarns him better than seven watckmen perched on a watchtower. And besides all this beg the Most High to guide your steps in the truth (37:13, 17, 14, 18). Unlike extrinsic assistance, self-made points hold real promise of self-transformation. The man who makes his own points is most likely to find the way. down into his inner depths and unleash the white hot magma of love and desire that will then break forth into the conscious world of affection and action for Christ. Each of us is best able himself to find and tap his own potential en-ergies. The thoughts that go into making points constitute not only a discovery but a personal experience, and there is no substitute for personal experience. I must begin with what are really my questions and my yearn-ings if the answers experienced are to move me deeply enough to change me into the likeness of Christ. No one else can experience for me, and no one can fully com-municate to me his experience. Let Karl Jung address himself to this felt need for one's own experience of profound realities: The best cannot be told., and the second best does not strike home. One must be able to let things happen. I have learned from the East what is ,,meant by the phrase Wu wei: namely, "not doing, letting be,' which is quite different from doing nothing. Some Occidentals, also, have known what this not-doing means; for instance, Meister Eckhart, who speaks of sich lassen, "to let oneself be." The region of darkness into which one falls is not empty; it is the "lavishing mother': of Lao-tzu, the "images" and the "seed." When the surface has been cleared, things can grow out of the depths. People always suppose they have lost their way when they come up against the depths of experience. But if they do not know how to go on, the only answer, the only advice, that makes any sense is "Wait for what the unconscious has to say about the situation." A way is only the way when one finds it and follows it oneself. There is no general prescription for "how one should do it." 8 There is still another compelling reason for each of us to make his own points. Unless we do we not only may fail to open a fissure through which the flaming energies of our inner life can emerge to become the vital force of our prayer, but we also refuse to open our inner life deliberately and consciously to God, and to ourselves in His presence, so that we can deal with the contingencies which this self-knowledge will certainly give rise to and so that we. can expose the paleness and sickness we will find there to His healing light and care. We are afraid and ashamed to expose burselves even to God, though He alone can heal us. We are also afraid to discover God in our own depths, for fear of the claims He will make on us and the changes He will demand. Jung has clearly discerned the widespread fear of these inner realities. He has found it in high places where it ought not exist: If "the theologian really believes in the almighty power of God on the one hand and in the validity of dogma on the other, why then does he not trust God to speak in the soul? Why this fear of psychology? Or is, in complete contradiction to dogma, the soul itself a hell from which only demons gibber? Even if this were really so it would not be any the less con-vincing; for as we all know, the horrified perception of the reality of evil has led to at least as many conversions as the ex-perience of good.' How can we make any progress in prayer unless we expose Our inner life naked to both God and ourselves? How can we be fully human unless we admit to our-selves that the furnace of our psychic life is full of the raw energies that can be fashioned into" every human desire and every exalted and perverted action that has ever come out of a human being? How can w~ be-fully human without knowing what we can become, or with-out asking God to help us avoid what we might become and to become what we ought? Until we know ourselves rather fully, how can we be deep, or fully unified, or recollected, or ourselves, or facing reality, or communi-cating ourselves whole and entire to God and to man? It is clear to a student of comparative religions like Professor Mircea Eliade that man both loves God and fears Him. Man wants to run to God and run away from Him. Man's psychic life is an amorphous thing. Subcon-scious currents run in contrary directions. A man can both love God and hate Him, cherish Him and resent 8 Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 28~. ' Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 522. Method ~ Pr~r VOLUME 2% 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Him. Leonard Bernstein's symphony Kaddish vividly portrays this malestrom of emotions which we hide in the subconscious because we think it would be blasphemous to let this raw magma break through and rush up into the open daylight of consciousness. Yet where else can it be tamed and channeled? Where else but in daylight and the open air of exposure to God's grace can it cool and harden and thereafter remain, like the granite and the basalt of the earth, as the memory of the ancient volcano of our revolt, and of God's understanding for-giveness and loving conquest over the self-destructive contradictions rending our own inner selves? There are nuns who need a psychiatrist to tell them they would like to have children; there are nuns and priests who leave the religious life when they discover they have desires for marriage. These people have lived a life divorced from their own souls. Every healthy nun knows she would like a husband and children, and every normal priest knows he would like to marry. That is, they know they share with every human nature these intense longings and powerful drives. No priest or nun is called to suppress these longings by trying to pretend they do not exist. They are rather called to control these drives and consciously forego the joy of their fulfillment for the sake of pursuing their higher, virginal love and service of Christ and the Church.~ The practice of daily communing with our own deep-est selves to make our own points for meditation will help us to keep posted on all these powerful and dan-gerous currents within us. Suppression of awareness permits dangerous psychic pressures to mount, but these vents into consciousness will have the opposite effect. The foul gases of cold or hateful or resentful feelings toward God, can escape, giving us opportunity to feel ashamed, and apologize, and be cleansed and healed. Experienced meditators should be able to make their own points without difficulty, after practicing for two or three weeks. Once they have discovered what it can do for them, nothing will prevent them from continuing except neglect or laziness. These confident statements presuppose that the persons addressed are doing daily spiritual reading, especially of the Scriptures. They pre-suppose a broad knowledge of Scripture and the memory of hundreds of favorite passages which come to mind spontaneously when they are germane to the thoughts of the meditation. I do not believe those who lack a broad knowledge of Scripture can use this method. Healthy Christian prayer hardly seems possible without the knowledge of Scripture wherein God teaches us to pray. Only two people know what I ought to pray about here and now: God and myself. In fact, I reduce that to one. God knows, and I have to find out. That is what I ought to do each night. That is the project of making points. By starting with myself I am most likely to be able to find out. It is also there, in my deepest recesses, that ! am most likely to find God. And only if I find Him will I be truly at prayer, which is not thinking, but communication and communion. Prayer is a work of two. We come now to consider the actual making of the points. As I set about making points, I should be con-sciously guided by two master facts. The first is the stage of prayer I have reached, and the second is my frame of ~nind at the moment. Often these two concerns are in conflict, and one of the purposes the points serve is to resolve this conflict. Master fact one. In slightly advanced states of prayer the meditator is often ruled by the desire to find God in prayer. He no longer wants to reflect on spiritual truths or current events in his life. He wants God's company. Furthermore, he is plagued by an inability to meditate any longer. The reasons for this are taken up in treatises on the stages of prayer.5 Master fact two. The meditator's frame of mind is, for instance, troubled by an event of the day and he wants to think about it. These two desires are in conflict. Unless he resolves the conflict before trying to meditate, he is likely to drift back and forth between the two concerns, not knowing which is the prayer and which the distraction. I would like to give an example of a set of points made in this state of conflict. I am in a stage of prayer in whick I habitually want to find God. At the same time I am concerned about my health. Apparently I have done what I can t:or it, but still I am concerned about it. During the last two or three days, the worry has in-truded itself into my prayer. For the subject of medita-tion I choose: The Divine Physician. The scene to oc-cupy my imagination: ]esus putting clay on the blind man's eyek. I ask the grace: To put myself in the care of the Divine Physician. I now think about the subject for a moment (instinctively guided by the two master facts listed above), and reflectively expand it into three points. FIRST POINT: The God-man, the true Physi-cian. SECOND POINT: I put myself completely in Your care, Divine Healer. THIRD POINT: Lord, now that I am Your concern, You can be my concern. I now choose some phrase which in one or a few words cap- Again I refer to Belorgey, The Practice. Method in Prayer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures the essence of the meditation. I call it the SPIR-ITUAL CAPSULE: Divine Physician, come! Something very important has transpired here. This simple preparation, which in practice might take me no more than a couple of minutes, was actually a miniature meditation. In this preparation-meditation I have ended my concern by deliberately turning it over ~to Christ. I did that in the second point. At that point I eliminated the conflict and left myself free to pray about my deep-est concerns. That fact is crystalized in the third point, where my attention is focused on the Lord, and I have actually already begun my interchange of affection with Him. In this mini-meditation I have disposed myself for the p.rayer of the presence of God by giving my current concern the momentary attention it needed, which was all the attention it deserves. This telescoping of a medi-tation which might formerly have taken an hour to get the same results into a minute or two is characteristic of persons who have reached more contemplative states of prayer. It proceeds intuitively and almost instantane-ously. It is also characteristi~ of contemplative states of prayer that meditation is displaced from prayer time and is skillfully and spontaneously carried on at odd moments during the day, and at the time of prepara-tion for prayer. Prayer preparation is, in contemplative states, a time to run quickly through meditative mat-ters and then put them aside, and thus put the soul in peace for contemplation. Let us now take the example of a set of points which a man might make while he is in the stage of the prayer of faith, on a quiet day when nothing is troubling him. The master fact governing his choice is his yearning for non-verbal communication with God: SUBJECT Resting with You by faith. SCENE Desert, where You invited the Apostles to come and rest with You (Mk 6:31). GRACE To be still and know that You are G~d (Ps 46:10). FIRST POINT "Commune with your hearts on your beds and be Silent" (Ps 4:4). SECOND POINT "Peace, be stilll" (Mk 4:39). THIRD POINT You lead me beside still waters, You restore my soul (Ps 23:3). SPIRITUAL CAPSULE God There are a number of useful things to be noted in this example. The meditator is addressing God even in the course of preparing points. He sees no sense in talk-ing about God in third person when l~e can address Him directly. Further, he loves to address God and have God address him in God's own words taken from Scrip-ture. And he has culled from Scripture and put down from memory passages he has recently memorised in the course of his Scriptural reading because they aptly de-scribe and Scripturally vouch for the authenticity of his current form of prayer. Finally, he summarizes his whole meditation in one word, knowing that even one word is too many to use in this stage of prayer. A man in the prayer of faith or beyond may make points similar to this most days for months at a time-- or even ~ears. He makes fresh points each day, because there is always a different nuance it is important to ex-press, but the essence remains un.varying. He is in com-munion with God on a deep level little affected by the transient times and tides of each day. The two examples given make it evident that I pro-pose a standard framework to contain the meditation. I call it the spiritual filing cabinet. It is the format made familiar by St. Ignatius. The advantage is that of any filing cabinet. It makes it easy for me to remember and sort out my thoughts each day, since I never vary. the cabinet but only the contents. I write down the medita-tion each night, but just before falling to sleep I can easily recall it from memory because of the standardized framework. On evenings when the preparation is fully successful, I will have disposed of all other concerns by the time I reach the third point, and there be swept up into the presence of God, where I hope to remain until after the hour of prayer the next morning. In that case, I will not recall the points when I compose myself for sleep. The points have eliminated themselves by pro-jecting me beyond them. They have proved their power to be selpeliminating. Let us take an example of a third mood, which is a composite of the two preceding moods, and see the points that come out of it. Personally, the meditator would like to spend his prayer time simply dwelling with God, but he feels he ought to bring the whole world into his meditation. To which of these conflict-ing desires is he really being called by ~race? The an-swer is that if he is in a contemplative stage of prayer such as the prayer of faith, the presumption must be in its favor until experience gives contrary evidence. After all, arrival at such a prayer is a personal invitation from God to come apart and rest awhile. Furthermore, by his contemplation the person is disposing himself to be God's servant to the world. Still, in preparing his medi-tation, the meditator may be able to synthesize the two diverse thrusts of his desire: SUBJECT The God of concern for the world SCENE The God of the world is within me, who am part of the world GRACE To be one with You in Your labors for men, my God and their God FIR, ST POINT 0 God of all origins, Father ingeneratet + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 SECOND POINT 0 God to the world, Incarnate God-Sonl THIRD POINT 0 God to the world-in-process of being reborn, Holy Spirit with usl SPIRITUAL CAPSULE Com~, Lord Jesus! In this meditation the meditator has succeeded in gain-ing a synoptic view of God and the world, thereby rec-onciling the seemingly opposed desires of his state of mind. Whatever direction his meditation takes in the morning, it should be able to take it without distraction from unreconciled contraries. Sometimes, when there are a few extra minutes avail-able, it is useful to jot down a few sub-ideas under one or more of the three points. Under the first point of the sample meditation just given, one might jot: You are the Father who has instructed us: "Be fruitful and mul-tiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion." Under the second he might jot the words of Jesus: "Fear not, I have overcome the world," and "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly." Years ago, I used to find this helpful, but now I generally find that it only clutters up the meditation and interferes with the simple contemplative gaze the preparation helps me to achieve. Anyone willing to experiment with this method for eliminating method may discover to his joy that while he used to wander to and fro from one book to another looking for something to help him meditate, he now easily discovers what he wants. When he asks: "What do I want to pray about, Lord?" the subject readily comes to mind: The quiet of being with You. "What scene to quiet my imagination?" John leaning on Your breast. What grace? To renew my knowledge of what it means to be with You. Point One: Resting here with You. Point Two: Listening in my heart to what You say. Point Three: Returning the love. Spiritual Capsule: I to You, and, to me, You whom my heart loves. In all of this, I have begun with something even more personal than Scripture. I have consulted God and my-self, and from there gone on to use Scripture, as God's means of communicating with me and I with Him. Slowly I formulate what God and I are to one another at the moment. I find God, and, as best I can, remain with Him until the time of formal prayer the next morn-ing. The Praying Itself If I am to pray in the early morning, the time to begin praying is the moment I awake. If, on awaking, I am in the presence of God, I make no attempt to recall my points. I simply remain with Him. When I come to the formal time for prayer, I do not use my points. Points are not lor use. I abide with God. I pray con-templatively, in a form of non-verbal communication represented by the names, prayer oI faith, prayer ol quiet, and so forth. Of course, this method does not produce such a state of prayer. It only facilitates it for those who have attained to it. Often, it is only by turning away from thoughts of God that we can turn to God, for no thought can con-tain Him, but a thought can distract us from Him. One nun to whom I had communicated these reflections wrote me: I've read a little over half of the Ascent to Mount Carmel. I like John. He is very gentle, thoughtful, and humble. 250 pages of how to do nothing in prayer. You sai,d, it in one sen-tence: "Don't think about God; think God.' I understand that all this background is essential, though, especially since I have not yet learned how to do nothing. This self-eliminating method can help us to bank the flies of our own recollection until it reaches the in-candescence of the prayer of the presence of God. The method is for those who have found and want to hold on to the prayer of communication, communion, and union with God. It is for those quiet enough to hear the call to this prayer, and courageous enough to take the solitary path to their meeting alone with God. The points are designed for self-elimination, but they are also meant to serve as an emergency auxiliary. They are supposed to put us into the orbit of our normal prayer, but they are also' supposed to rescue us if we fall out of it. Should I be unsuccessful in finding God when I awake in the morning, I recall my points and mentally run through them. I center my recollection around them until the time for formal prayer. On coming to prayer, I put aside my points and make another attempt to find God without thoughts or words. If I do not succeed, I resort to my points once again, ' since I have put into them the matters which mean most to me at the mo-ment. They should help me to pray the prayer of sim-plicity, or the prayer of affection, or at least to do some meditating. If not, I will have to turn to some other alternative, such as meditative reading of the Scripture, but only as a good spiritual director, or a reliable book on the stages of prayer, advises.n Sometimes when we attempt to prepare our own points, we will find we are devoid of every thought. We have no choice but to resort to some one else's points. Or do we? That is the time to turn to past sets of our own o In advanced states, it is not easy to know whether we are praying successfully or wasting our time. See, once again, Belorgey, The Practice, or the works of St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and others. + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 357 Sm~t~o S./. RELIGIOUS 358 points, prepared out of our own heads in .richer seasons, and stored up for barren days. At times when I have felt repelled by the thought of any book and unable to prepare a meditation of my own, I have frequently re-sorted to stores of my own points. Almost always two or three sets will guide me into prayer and. recollection within minutes. Once again I am experiencing the grace I received in the day and hour I first used those particu-lar points. Roads we have used to God in the past often remain viable if we can locate them again. We should return often to the sites where He has visited us in the past. This method of preparing points is very useful even for those in earlier stages of prayer, but for them the preparation will not be self-eliminating. They will of necessity take their self-prepared material into the prayer and use it to feed their meditation. They will enjoy most of the benefits of this highly personalized and creative method of prayer. For them too it minimizes method, reduces foreign elements in their prayer to a minimum, and guides them to personal discovery of Christ. When beginners use this method of making points, it will have to be modified somewhat. O[ten, they will not be able to prepare points out of their heads. What they can do is take a Gospel event, analyze it, and put it.into the spiritual filing cabinet according to their own bent. Under each point they should jot down personal ideas and experiences relating to the Scriptural themes. If no personal ideas come, they can be trained to use the ref-erences to related passages such as the Jerusalem Bible gives in such abundance. Looking up these related pas-sages and jotting them down as sub-points will help deepen their understanding of Scripture and develop their power to meditate. They should take about fifteen minutes to prepare points in the beginning. Before long they will show more deftness and originality in use of the method. I taught this method to a group of young sisters with assurance that it would work. Not long after, one of them wrote me: You know, Father, at first when you told us about using our "spiritual capsule" before bedtime and that in time we would awaken at night and find ourselveg" talking to God, I felt it would be years until that could ever happen to me. But it has happenedl Post-Prayer Activity We ought to record worthwhile insights, experiences, and meetings with God in prayer. Reading them over some time later can be the best fuel for future points. As already indicated, we should store up successful self-made points. It is practicable to make points each day in a small note book, dating each day as we go along. When we want to make a post-prayer reflection in writing, put it in the same place. In the future when our mood is such that we want to return to some explicit past meditation, we will be able to find it with ease and benefit by it again. This method for eliminating method in prayer has been well tested and proven. It requires some trouble on our part, but it eliminates a lot more trouble than it takes. It is a method with a high yield. For surely he is going to make the most progress in his search for God who starts not from some one else's starting point but from his own. + + + VOLUME 29, 1970 DOM JOHN MAIN, O.S.B. V ew Dora Johu Main, O.S.B., a monk of Ealing, is presently living at St. An-selm's Abbey in Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Once upon a time a small boy and his old uncle were out for a walk in their city. It was a large city and had in it all sorts of wonderful modern buildings and wonderful modern people. It was called Secular City and was beautifully situated in a deep valley with spectacular high mountains rising up all around it. The small boy and his uncle had strayed into an older part of the city, and the boy was very surprised when they came upon a large building in a ruinous condi-tion. This was an altogether unusual sight in the modern city, and the small boy was upset by it. He thought how marvelous the ruins must have looked in their day. Pointing to the ruin, one feature of which seemed to have been a very high tower, he asked his uncle what this ugly eyesore was doing here. The old uncle sighed; he hated his young nephew to see anything that was ugly. "Well," he started, "I can remember that building well. It was very fine in its day, with a great high tower which reached way up above Secular City. They said that the view from the tower was absolutely stupendous." "But how on earth did it become such a ruin?" asked the small boy, looking now with an even greater interest at the noble ruins. "Well, you see," the uncle started, "a rather special group used to live there. They really did a great job for the whole community in rather a strange sort of way. You see in our Secular City we are stir-rounded by mountains and, as a result, we tend to get rather closed in on ourselves. It's rather difficult to ex-plain, but we tend to think of everything in terms of Secular City. Well, the group that lived there built a large and very high tower--to see the wonderful view; and in some strange way this view of theirs seemed to add a new dimension to the life of the group that made them rather special people in Secular City." The boy listened to this explanation with great at-tention. He wondered how a view could have so changed a group. Turning his innocent face to his uncle, he asked, "How do you mean--special people? Did the view make them a bit odd?" "I suppose it did in a way," the uncle replied, try-ing to recall the group to his mind. "We could never quite understand why they were so concerned to pro-vide schools and hospitals, orphanages and old people's homes. We just accepted the fact that somehow or other the view was at the back of it all." He thought very quietly to himself and added: "Anyone who needed help seemed to become the concern of the group. It all happened a long time ago, and I can'( remember too. well now; but it seemed that they brought all their talents together and used them wherever there were people in need." The uncle had not thought of these things for a long time. It was the dedication of the group that now struck him as the hallmark of their work. He wondered, to himself how he had been so lacking in curiosity about the view when the group had been such a creative force in the city. The little boy now looked really puzzled. "Well, what happened," he asked, "How did it all become a ruin? Did some tyrant come' and run them out of town?" "You remember me telling you about the tower, and how hard it was to climb to the top," the uncle went on. "Well, it appears that over the years, the staircase that went up to the top got rather old and worn out-- I think there was woodworm or maybe dry rot--and the group decided that they would have to rebuild it. And that was when all the trouble started. Some of the group just wanted to repair the staircase, but others said that was no good because the dry rot, or maybe it was woodworm, ~vould just affect the new wood. Then someone who was really very modern got the idea of pulling down the staircase and putting in an elevator. The trouble with this idea was that they couldn't get the elevator shaft in without pulling down the staircase, and that's when the trouble really started. In the old days, you see, there had always been some of the group either at the top of the stairs looking at tile view, or. some of them on the way up to encourage the others. I'm not too sure about this, but I think it was.rumored that even before all the discussions started, there. weren't quite so many climbing so high up the tower. I think I remember it being said that the group spent a lot of time looking after all .their plant and not quite so much time getting up to the view. In any case, they all seemed to agree that the stairs had to be rebuilt. But, when this argument started, they all got so involved in the discussion about the elevator, that ÷ ÷. ÷ VOLUME 29 1970 361 ~ ÷ ÷ + Dom John Main REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 they all began to come down to join one of the com-missions they set up." "What's a commission?" the small boy asked, looking rather puzzled. The old uncle tried to look very wise. "A commis-sion," he faltered, "was a part of the group set up to examine some particular problem. They usually passed out questionnaires which everybody had to fill in, and these suggested new questions and more questionnaires. I never really understood the process---but I believe it was quite essential." The little boy did not seem to be paying much atten-tion to this; and, turning his perplexed face to his uncle, he pondered: "But was anyone trying to keep going up the tower to see the view while those com-missions met?" He was only a small boy, but it seemed to him that if the view had been so important in the past it might even inspire the work of the commissions. "I suppose some were," replied the old uncle, "but then they all seemed to get nervous about the founda-tions." "The foundations," replied the small boy, now look-ing at his old uncle with something like incredulity. "Yes," went on the uncle. "You see, after a while the discussions shifted from the question of the elevator or the stairs to another more fundamental matter, namely, would the foundations really support any new structure at all?" "Well, if they supported the old one, why shouldn't they support the new one?" asked the small boy. "And, anyway, what about the view? Didn't anyone even want to risk trying to get up to see the view?" "The problem was," explained the uncle, "that the old structure had really become very rickety by this time. The group was finding that the stairs just wouldn't carry them up anymore. And the foundations, this was quite a problem. But perhaps more serious was another thing. You remember me telling you that in our Secular City we get rather inward looking--strange to say this way of thinking now began to affect the group. In the old days they had brought quite a new dimension 'to the city, but now somehow or another they became like the rest of the people around them in the city." The boy now looked very serious indeed. "They should have tried to keep contact with that view," he said his face had become very determined and set. "I don't think we should be too hard on them," replied his uncle; "it was a difficult problem to know how to renew those stairs." But even as he was saying this, at a deep level he shared his nephew's regret. "But what happened?" urged the small boy. "Did the commission ever come up with a solution?" In spite of his black looks of a moment ago, his innocence forced him to believe that there must be a solution. The old uncle tried to remember. "I just can't re-call," he said. "There used to be a lot of talk about the group but then people seemed to forget about them." It was getting late and they had to be going home, but the small boy wanted to take a closer look at the ruin. They walked over and both looked at one an-other in surprise. There seemed to be sounds coming from the basement--was someone working at the foundation? But, it was time to go. "I wonder what that view was really like?" mused the small boy, looking up at the great ruined tower. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 29, !970 EUGENE C. AHNER, S.V.D. Toward a Renewed Life in Communi Eugene C. Ah-her, SN.D., is the dean of men at the S.V.D. Major Sem-inary; 4000 13th St.; Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There was a lawyer who to disconcert him stood up and said to him, "Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He replied, "You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your s~rength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.' "You have answered right" said Jesus; "do this and lif.e is yours" (Lk 10:25-8). At this level we all find ourselves in agreement. The purpose of our lives, the goal of our struggle as human beings, as Christians, as priests or religious, is the love of God and neighbor. Here we all celebrate together and find ourselves in familiar company whether we are young or old, liberal or conservative, particularly pious or not. In fact, if we really pressed the issue we would find there are very few, if any, who are against love. After all, everyone wants love, truth, peace, brotherhood. However, as we go one step further and begin to ask what is real love anyway and how does one respond in the face of non-love, of hate, deception, and fear, the whole harmonious scene changes. What seems so simple and clear immediately becomes immensely complex and confused. Conflicting attitudes, opposing groups, and divergent ideas splinter in all directions. And we find ourselves in agreement with Qoheleth as he says: "I find that God made man simple; man's complex problems are of his own devising" (Eccl 7:29-30). The real problem, then, is not who wants love and truth and goodness, but how do we live in the face of evil. For, in each of us and in the world about us, there are not only the elements of life and growth but also the seeds of death and destruction. And while we may be quite sensitive to and indignant about the evil out-side of us, we are fearfully reluctant to look directly, clearly, and without dodging or panicking at the evil inside our own hearts. And yet, unless we are in touch with ourselves as we truly are and with our brother as he truly is, talk of love is futile. For the sad fact is that what then goes for love is rather an exercise in self-protection or self-aggrandizement at the expense of both myself and my brother. The gxeat task before each man, then, is really the human task. The fundamental point of religious life is common to all: to find oneself; to find one's brother; to find God. For, unless we are in touch with this funda-merit of reality we cannot walk the way of love. This discovery of our own true dimensions, tlie experience of our human situation, is a prelude to a life of love. And yet the one thing we attempt to avoid is knowing our-selves as we truly are--to enter into the wasteland of our own heart and discover there the dimensions of the sinner as well as the saint, the evil as well as the good, the love of death as well as the love of life. We are ca-pable of hate as we are of love, of anger as we are of af-fection, of the irrational as of the rational. No doubt the religious and monastic thing has always intended to bring a man in touch with himself as tie truly is--the long hours of aloneness, of fasting, of re-flection, of self-accusation, of spiritual direction. How-ever, there is no need to prove that the intended results have not kept pace with the practices and that, to the contrary, there are enough instances of these practices actually being used in such a way as to support and contribute to the dream world of self-deception and of the flight from the reality of oneself and one's neighbor. In fact, we might even wonder whether some of our more recent theologizing and liturgical celebration are not weakened by this very sort of glibness and superficial-ity with which it slides over the problem of evil and death. This can only lead to a kind of astonishment and perhaps eventual disillusionment when the repetition of the words love, community, hope, and life do not really seem to overcome hate, isolation, despair, and death be-cause they have never really met each other seriously and head-on. Each set of experiences is kept separate from the other because deep in our hearts we are not so very sure that love can really overcome fear and that truth is really stronger than pretense. The world of the kingdom, of truth, and of love is expressed and cele-brated loudly and clearly but in an uprooted and imag-inary world of its own. The world of sin and of death is kept apart, quiet and repressed deep inside the heart unknown even to the heart itself. Jeremiah says: "The heart is more devious than any other thing, perverse too; who can pierce its secret?" (Jer 17:9) And it is here in the unfathomable depths of the heart that the human ego keeps itself. + ÷ Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 365 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. ~. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 The difficulty of honestly facing our fear and the de-viousness of our own hearts has led us to many disguises and subterfuges to avoid the kind of confrontation that brings to light what is now in darkness. More by way of example than by exhaustive analysis, I would like to list three common ways we avoid the reality of who we are. Repression We are all acquainted with the small child who, in wanting to hide from someone, simply covers his own eyes. And so, not able to see the other, he feels well hid-den and secure. We smile at the naiveness of the child but what is innocent enough at that level becomes dev-astat! ng for adults who continue to deal with reality in this way. The easiest way of dealing with the unpleas-ant is to act as if it were not there. Somehow, by ig-noring it, it will go away. If our feelings run counter to what we are expected to feel, to think, or to do, the quickest way of dealing with the situation is to ignore or repress the feelings. If our feelings are so strong that we don't know what they might lead to, the safest thing is to repress them. Concretely, if I have sexual feelings or fantasies for someone of the same or opposite sex and for whatever reason feel that I shouldn't, I will tend to act as if they are not there. If I feel so angry inside that I am afraid that I will lose control and really hurt someone, I will try to play it safe and keep all feelings well under control. If I feel tender or affection-ate but consider such feelings unmanly, I will hide them. But the sad fact is that we cannot exercise such selec-tive repression. Before long we find that we do not know how we feel anymore and soon we discover that we no longer consciously feel anything at all. The price of re-pressing unwanted feelings is the numbing of all feelings. But deep inside there is a lump and we are depressed or forever anxious. And so we walk about like hollow peo-ple, not obviously angry or unkind but not able to love or feel deeply for anyone either. It becomes too dangerous to let go of any feeling because something else might come up that we cannot handle. But even that might not be too high a price to pay for external control. The fact is though that nothing is simply repressed without making itself felt somehow or somewhere--which brings us to our second ploy. Transference Everything that has made up our life leaves its mark and calls for its share of recognition. And if we are un-willing or unable to face the feelings that arise directly from the situation, we will have to face them in some other area that has no direct relation to the original feeling. Almost classic now is the understanding that masturbation, for example, is not simply a sexual prob-lem but a release of anger, frustration, feelings of in-adequacy and overdependency, that are not being met at the level where the issues really are. Another broad area of transference is the focus of all one's interests and energy on the great battle of evil out-side of ourselves. Especially today at a time of such far-reaching change and critical reevaluation there is no lack of evils to attack or causes to be advanced. All of which is fine and to be commended provided that it is not merely a front for avoiding the evil inside of our-selves. The real problem is that whatever evil exists around us also has basic roots and affinities inside of us. So, unless we have faced the evil within, our attempts to deal with it outside will be more a case of evil meet-ing evil, violence opposed to violence, lust opposed to lust, totalitarianism opposed to totalitarianism. And the end result will be ambiguity, hostility, restlessness, and the alienation of feeling. The present day religious community in transition is an excellent breeding ground for this kind of malaise. It becomes so much easier to fight the corruption in institutions and structures than in ourselves. And the sad fact is that there is so much that needs to be renewed but the one who is vigorously tear-ing down structures does not even realize that he is pri-marily fighting something in himself. Intellectualism This is an occupational hazard of any academic or student community. It is rooted in the realization that whatever can be understood can also be controlled. Therefore, if we intellectualize our whole life, our feel-ings and relationships as well, we can always be in con-trol. And as long as we maintain control, no one can get too dose to us, no one will be able to hurt us. manipulate persons and relationships, often unknow-ingly, in order to keep them at a distance and so pick and choose what is safe and what we can master. It means, of course, that all spontaneity must be censored and no feelings may overstep our present intellectual understanding. Feelings, then, become techniques to use "for effect." Relationships become calculations and the question becomes what should I feel rather than what do I feel. Life becomes a question of control, and lost are the directness and closeness of Christ: anger, fear, tears, and tenderness. And in the end, since the feelings have not been dealt with honestly, they will crop up in some often unsuspecting way and cry out for recognition. + + + Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 E. C. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 Perhaps it will be one person or one thing that will have to bear in an unreal and overdependent way our total emotional life. These are some of the more common ways we use to protect ourselves from others. But systematically and imperceptibly what we have hidden about ourselves from others also becomes hidden from ourselves. And so we find that we are not only strangers to others but finally also to ourselves. By middle-age most of us are accomplished fugitives not only from others but radi-cally from ourselves, thereby losing touch with the true source of life and renewal and motivation within us. What is it that drives us so far from ourselves and others? What subtle and all-pervasive element in our lives creeps into every aspect of it? What holds us in a closed and guarded defense rather than in an open and loving embrace? We are in fact face to face with fear-- our great fear that if we are known as we truly are we will not be lovable, will not be accepted, but rather that we will be taken advantage of, laughed at, hurt, or ignored. If others really knew that I am not only strong and capable but also weak and afraid, that I not only have desires of love and goodness but also of hate and destructiveness, would I still be loved and accepted or would I be crushed and rejected? I would venture to say that the great feeling of worthlessness so prevalent among people today is a direct result of their fear to be themselves. And we have reason to be afraid because to be our-selves means openness and vulnerability and honesty and confession of weakness. Revealing ourselves might destroy us. And if life is a little flicker between the darkness from which we have come and the darkness to which we will return, then we will do all that we can to grab it and. protect it. And so we proceed to build walls a~ound our weakness, to present only our strengths, to acknowledge only what is good and loving in us and we try to cover over what is weak and evil. We will be careful always to be in control and to have enough "pro-tection" between ourselves and others. And yet the fact is that only when we break through this hard shell can we be truly lovable. Only then can someone know who we are and love us. The very defenses we use not to get hurt are the walls that keep others out and make it ira-possible for another to really love us. And so we end up with the sad paradox that what we want most, to love and to be loved, is the thing we most thwart by our at-tempts to achieve it--through impressing others with being strong, trying to merit another's love by only re-vealing our "best" side. All this despite the experience we also share of actually feeling a greater love rather than less towards someone who may have revealed his own weakness to us. As John says so succinctly: "In love there can be no fear, but fear is driven out by perfect love: because to fear is to expect punishment, and any-one who is afraid is still imperfect in love" (1 Jn 4:18). So the very possibility of love depends on our willing-ness to face weakness and evil as it truly is--in ourselves and in our brother. Love does not solve the problem of evil by eliminating or avoiding it. That is impossible. To attempt a solution of evil by elimination is to believe that evil is only extraneous to man, that were it not for an evil society man could live in love and truth. In this view, evil would be successfully overcome if it could only be eliminated from the society in which man lives. It would be to act as if man were an angel who did not have deep within himself seeds of both good and evil. Rather, the only route open in the face of evil is to suff~r through evil without the loss, the capacity for love. In other words, evil must be transcended, not es-caped from or eliminated, and this cannot be achieved apart from the journey through the lust of one's own hell. So, finally, it is man himself and not evil which is redeemed. Evil, sin, and death will remain but they can be transcended provided that the individual face them in imagination and go beyond them in an act of love that restores the mystery of being and reveals the limit-lessness of man's freedom and responsibility. It is only by personally facing the depths of one's own despair, hate, violence, doubt, nothingness, aloneness that hope and love and redemption and faith are the victories that overcome, transcend the world. We do not face evil by simply committing it because this is in fact to sur-render to it. We do not face it by acting as if it were not a reality inside ourselves because this is mere,escapism to an unreal world which makes any real solution impossible. But rather, we must enter it through the imagination, risk the possibility of doing it, and with this necessary psychic distance, to transcend it. But as we consider these dynamics, are we not face to face with the religious thing, with the task of religious development in a community? A home wher~ I can search out my own heart, to discover the depths ~f the sinner and the saint, and to be accepted and erhbraced in a fraternity of sinners redeemed by Christ's 10ve. A group of persons with whom I can be myself, be open with-out deceit and not stand constantly under the sentence of being ridiculed, ignored, or taken advantage of. A place where the forgiving and creative form of love is operative and allows new possibilities of life to be re-vealed from sin and death. A zone of truth s~here evil will not be run from or ignored but faced ste,hdfastly with + + Toward Renewed Lile VOLUME 29, 1970 369 love. A community where there are honest men seeking for truth and love who are willing and able to accom-pany me in my journey. For this kind of atmosphere will allow an individual to take the fearful plunge and search the darkness of his own heart, to transcend the evil in his own life, and to face clearly the choice of lov.ing or hating, believing or doubting, being honest or hiding, hoping or despairing, living or dying. Is this not really what we should be about in our own life in community? The religious community is not a place to protect a person from himself, from reality, to escape or ignore evil, but rather to open him to the reality of himself and to reality in general. What re-newal has discovered is not a new commandment but the necessity of more penetrating and decisive ways of facing and knowing ourselves totally, good and evil. Only then can we really begin to walk the way of that first and all-inclusive command: "Love God with your whole heart and your neighbor as yourself." 4- 4- E. ~. Ahnt~', $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 ALAN AMBORN The Helpful,.Lifer It seems to be rather common opinion' that convicts who turn to God are nothing but hypocrites. Nothing could be farther /from the truth. You can read here what rel!gion really means to a prisoner. There are many people who seem to wqnder exactly what part religion can and does play in American prisons today. It is my opinion that it pla~s a very im-portant part, even though people may frequently say: "Isn't it all hypocrisy? Is a convicted felon ,really sincere when he turns to God only after he has b~en found in his crimes?" To that question we can posiibly have as many answers as there are men in prison. It may seem strange but it is nevertheless true that the people who ask such questions are us~ually people who have little, if any, firsthand information about prisons or prison inmates. What little info,rmatlon they have was obtained from reading the newspapers. Only too often such information is scanty and, at times, even misleading. , Suppose we begin with the assumption, that ninety-nine per cent of the men and women res.iding in the penitentiaries are guilty of the crimes for, which they have been sentenced. A large proportion 'of these are first offenders, many of whom have been committed to prison for crimes of omission, accident, or sheer stupid-ity rather than deliberate crimes of cupidity. Further-more, I would say that by far the majority of these are determined that they will never again come in conflict with the law once they have completed their sentences. The point I am trying to make is that among our prison inmates there are those who could possibly be classed as ogres, madmen, or depraved individuals, but they are in the minority. The greater part of our prisoners are peo-ple who have feelings, conscience, and a deep awareness of what they have done to their victims, their loved ones, and to themselves. In a prison, men and women who have been torn from their homes, wives, children, sweethearts, and + + + Alan Amborn 16376 can be writ-ten to at Box 900; Jefferson City, Mis-souri 65101. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS friends are forced to live an almost completely monastic life. Despite the many humane reforms in our modern penal systems, the average prisoner still undergoes the shock of isolation, the moral shame and degradation that follow his being sentenced. A first offender's initial few months is, generally, a period of shock, humiliation, despair, and above all, one of loneliness beyond descrip-tion. No one, not having experienced that first night when the cell door slams with such frightening finality and the lights go out, could be expected to understand the feel-ings that encompass the now totally miserable individ-ual. Along with the sense of loss come degradation and despair with a special kind of fear--spiritual and moral as well as physical. A person having experienced these feelings could never forget them. A person not having experienced them could never understand exactly what they were. Those first-night horrors can, and do, shake the most calloused lawbreaker to the very core of his being. Is it any wonder, then, that prisoners turn to what should have been their constant solace and comfort but, too often, is their last resort--their God and their Bible? It is the only answer and solution to a problem of pain that can drive the most hardened sophisticate mad. I speak from firsthand, if tragic, experience. I am an inmate of a Midwestern penitentiary. This is not my first prison. Yet, in each I have seen the word of God work wonders when everything else tried had failed. Any man or woman who is not completely amoral has some degree of sensitivity. Convicts are no exception. Even though the State, through legislation, charity, and necessity, provides for the prisoner in regards to his or her material and spiritual wants, there is always one factor that cannot be provided for, and that is the purely private and personal feelings of the individual. From unforgettable personal and bitter experience I know this common factor. Even though the warden of a prison were to offer a sympathetic ear to the inmate, the pris-oner's recent association with the police, the court, judge, and the jury, would have, consciously or uncon-sciously, erected a mental barrier that is, during the first months of imprisonment, not easily scaled. To the average prisoner who is experiencing his first imprison-ment, even the kindly ministrations and gestures of a chaplain, psychologist, or psychiatrist are often rejected and disregarded simply because the prisoner is not in a receptive mood or frame of mind. Very few convicts .are inclined to make officials of any stature their confidants. In the case of the new prisoner's family, the shock and shame emanating from their loved one's conviction and imprisonment is usually so great that they are at a com-plete loss as to what to do toward comforting or en-couraging their father, brother, or son. In a great ma-jority of the cases I have personally observed, the family procrastinates; they do nothing, waiting for the impris-oned man to make the initial move. Any conscientious prison official can tell you how inadvisable this attitude is. It is the usual procedure or custom in most prisons to have the new inmate or "fish" go through a thirty day period of isolation. There are two reasons for this pro-cedure: a hygienic check-up first, and then the period in which the authorities observe the conduct and attitude of the man. The officials, for security purposes, must know the moods, manners, and intentions of their new charges. Is the "fish" mentally or physically sick? Is he antagonistic or dangerous? Will he harm himself or some inmate in his anger and frustration? This period of isolation is by far the worst part of imprisonment for any convict, but especially so for the prison novice. This is the danger point for the emotion-ally distraught and the mentally unbalanced; this is the period where the man, all alone, must separate himself from the world of the living he has "always known, and accept and adjust himself to the frightening new world of the living dead. It can very well be the ebb tide of his life. This is the time when, no matter if he has been lax in his practice of religion, an agnostic or even an atheist, he will, he must, within himself turn to God. He must if he is to survive. For be he Christian or Jew, Muslim or Buddhist, young man or old, every fibre of his body, mind, and spirit will search for someone or something to turn to--someone who is understanding and who will show forgiveness without reservations. And it is inevita-ble that sooner or later he must come to realize that the someone or something that fills all his desperately needed requirements is the Someone who has always been standing by to forgive, forget, and accept. Happy indeed is the individual who brings a Bible to prison with him. Very few prisons provide a newcomer with this precious and cherished book. Many times I have overheard convicts state their desire and need for a Bible. In some prisons the chaplains provide these holy texts out of their own pockets. To my knowledge and experience, though, no American prison voluntarily supplies them to their inmate population. I assume that the reason for this seemingly official attitude is felt to be in keeping with our inherent American principle of freedom of religion, or in this instance, freedom from religion. + ÷ ÷ TI~ l:leIplul Liter VOLUME 29, ~.970 4, 4, Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS :374 Again drawing from personal experience, I know just how fertile a field for converts prisons are. Much has been written about our jails and prisons being breeding places for more crime, moral deterioration, and physical perversion. This, too often, is the case. Men who are lonely, devoid of hope, ambition, and initiative are easily led. The professional criminal and perennial jailbird are too often the leaders. These emotional and moral misfits know only one path to take. If a man can-not find the comfort and solace he desperately needs in this crisis of his life from friends and family, he will seek these two important factors in one of two places: with his equally despondent, lonesome, and lost fellow-convicts, or in his God. And there are infinitely more convicts in prisons than there are messengers of the Lord. Peace of mind and acceptance of God's will are even more important in an imprisoned man's life than it is in a free man's. For, having broken both God's as well as man's laws, the prisoner is usually weighted down with a double sense of guilt and remorse. And many times I have seen the moral and spiritual rebirth of an individ-ual brought about by his reintroduction to his Maker through the Bible. I was born of God-loving Roman Catholic parents. In our home, belief and respect for God were made part of our daily lives. Furthermore, He was a most essential part. I was sent to parochial and higher schools and, as a result, was well versed in the fundamentals of my faith. It was only after I stupidly and callously began to disregard the teachings and tenets of my faith that I began to ruin my life, and even worse, the lives of those who loved, believed, and trusted me. That, to me, is the greatest tragedy of the man in prison--those he left on the outside. Like so many of my ilk, stewing in bitterness and shame, I gave little thought to God during my first years of imprisonment, particularly after I was no longer a "fish." I turned completely deaf ears to the overtures of the prison chaplain and to well-intentioned state of-ficials. My attitude was one of "these state officials put me in here and now they are trying to persuade me that they want to help me; how stupid do they think I am?" That's a question I often ask myself these days. I know now how stupid this line of destructive thinking is, but I didn't in those earlier days. I know, too, that this is the line of thought that most new inmates take. Out of sheer boredom and because it afforded me an opportunity to get out of my cell for an hour, I attended a few church services. But if I actually thought of God at all, it was to blame Him for having failed me--never my having failed Him. That should give you an idea of how stupid a man in prison can be. That old clichd of "misery loves company" really gets a workout in prison. I recall vividly some of the discussions I had with fellow-convicts during my first days in the "joint." Few, if any, were ever in a construc-tive vein. They were almost always filled with bitterness and recriminations; not directed at ourselves where they rightfully belonged, but at our captors, our wardens, and even at our families and friends. As for me, per-sonally, I was the epitome of bitterness, frustration, and hopelessness. Through my own stupidity and cupidity I had lost my family and friends (so I thought at the time), and instead of doing anything constructive about regaining these lost loved ones, I submerged myself in a sea of self-pity in which I almost drowned. I was simply over-flowing with moral indifference, false pride, and per-verted thinking. I was fast approaching a point of no return. That is the point in a man's life when one more foolish or careless mistake can completely and irrevoca-bly preclude any possibility of his again becoming a use-ful, acceptable part of the human race. Then, I met a convict named Alex. One day during a recreational period in the yard, an inmate I didn't know came up to me. Though I had never spoken to this convict, I knew about him. I had first noticed him through a peculiar habit he had. I should clarify that by stating that this habit was pecu-liar in prison; he carried a book under his arm wherever he went. Upon asking some of the other inmates about this, I was told that he was a "lifer" who had already served twenty years, who had little or no hope of a pardon or parole, and that he was a religious fanatic. In prison, the term "religious fanatic" has a wide meaning, ranging from a man who goes to church services once a year to a man who attends services regularly. Another thing that set this inmate in a separate category with his fellow-convicts was that he was a "loner." A "loner" in prison jargon is a convict who stays strictly to himself, has no friends or close associates, and never participates in any prison activities. Even the prison officials look askance at this type of a convict and pay particular at-tention to his every move. For "loners" are the ones who most frequently crack mentally or emotionally. This prisoner I am writing of was in his early fifties, of a serious demeanor, short and on the heavy side, and whose face, though handsome, was lined with suffering. His eyes indicated character and depth. The moment he spoke to me I knew he was well educated. He was courteous and had an air of quiet dignity about him, 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 2% 1970 375 + 4. Alan Ambovn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and I immediately sensed an aura of well-being and contented resignation emanating from him. He wasted no time on social discourse. His opening words were: "Alan, I understand you are a Catholic." As he saw the look of complete bewilderment on my face, he continued: "Father Jerome told me that you had been educated in Catholic schools and that you might be able to help me with my catechism. You see, I am a convert and I'm hoping to be baptized in the near future." I was too amazed to answer him. The first thought that went through my head was that this was a gag of some sort, perpetrated by the fellows I had been hanging around with. Noticing my hesitancy and seeming to read my mind, he went on: "I'm really serious about this, Alan, and though I haven't much, I'd be willing to pay you for your trouble." Something in his manner told me that he was in earnest, but I still hesitated. Finally, I asked him: "How come you and Father Jerome picked on me? I haven't been to Mass since coming here and, as a matter of fact, I have not even been inside a church in over two years." "We never discussed that," he replied. Then he con-tinued: "All we talked about was your school back-ground. Alan, there are a lot of fellows getting instruc-tions and Father, with all his other work, is getting snowed under. When I asked if there were any Catholic men here that might help me, your name came up. As I'm sure you know, each Catholic convert needs a baptismal sponsor. I have no family or friends, so I thought that you might." His voice trailed off, as if in embarrassment, and he waited to see what I would say. When I didn't answer, he said: "I swear to you that there was nothing put on or planned about my asking you this. Your name was alphabetically first and that is how I chose you. Father even warned me that you would not be very receptive to the idea, but I thought otherwise. I guess I was mis-taken. If you'd rather not do it, that's okay, too." He started to walk away. I perhaps will never know just what made me stop him, but stop him I did. It probably was the wisest decision I ever made: "If Father Jerome and you think I am qualified to help you, it's all right with me. Forget that talk about paying me. Remember this, though, it has been a long time since I've seen a catechism book or even discussed religion. You might very well know more about the subject than I do. If you really feel that I can be of some assistance, it's a deal." To this day I don't know what Father Jermone's mo- tives were in sending Alex to me. I honestly can't say whether he had a motive or not; but whatever the case, it helped the two of us. Alex was baptized and I re-turned to my lost faith. As I told Alex, I was very rusty on my catechism and had to do a lot of research. Alex's knowledge of the Bible was far superior to mine; and though, at first, he was kind enough to pretend that this was not the case, it wasn't long before I was the student and Alex was the tutor. His tremendous grasp of both the New and Old Tes-taments was amazing. He could quote verbatim lengthy passages from both texts and never in a parrot-like man-ner. He had a profound understanding of its parables and lessons. No matter what subject or problem we might be discussing, he could find a parallel in the Holy Book, and no matter how bleak a person's outlook on life might be, Alex's Biblical parallels always seemed to offer comfort and hope to the individual. Though I don't believe he ever realized it, Alex was a salesman for the Lord; and he was a good one. The one thing that impressed me and everyone who knew him was his obvious sincerity and his calm acceptance of a fate that was, by all standards, unenviable. As I mentioned previously, he was serving a life sentence with little or no hope of pardon. The fact that this out-wardly didn't raze him and his seemingly calm accept-ance of spending the rest of his life behind bars natu-rally puzzled me. I told him so on one occasion. He explained that when he had first arrived at the prison he had been bitter and lost. Due to his behavior pattern, he had spent forty-nine months of the first five years of his sentence in solitary confinement. It was during one of these sessions of enforced solitude that Alex was given a Bible. Sheer boredom and the lack of anything else to read led to his initial interest in the Book. He honestly admitted that this interest was fostered by a human desire to do something--anything--to help pass the endless hours he was forced to spend alone. Alex had never spoken of the crime that had put him in prison; and I, in keeping with prison custom, had never asked him. However, it was common "yard" gossip that it was murder. Alex told me that his behavior problem came from his overactive conscience and his inability to forget what he had done. He was in a position that thousands of convicts find themselves in. For though soc!ety had in-dicted, convicted, and punished him, and then legally forgotten him by reason of more notorious and head-lined crimes, Alex himself could not forget nor forgive ÷ + + VOLUME 29, 1970 4. ÷ Alan Amborn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 what he had done. His misbehavior and antagonistic attitude was a masochistic drive to punish himself. One day while going through the Bible in his solitary cell, he came across the story of Mary Magdalene. It fascinated him. Here was someone who had been steeped in sin like he was and who had asked for and had been given mercy and forgiveness. He went on with his reading, this time deeply impressed and eager. When he came to the story of the crucifixion, he was spell-bound. The agony and torture that Jesus went through wrung his heart. He told me that for the first time in his adult life, he wept. When he came to the climax of the great tragedy, the scene in which Christ, suffering unto death, took time out from His final agonies to forgive His murderers and the Good Thief hanging beside Him, Alex said a wave of understanding and peace descended on him. He said that he had gotten down on his knees to pray, and that while doing so he suddenly and finally knew that he had someone to turn to. Someone who would understand and forgive and who would give him a chance to atone for his sins and his crimes. This knowledge was what permitted Alex to accept his fate and lot so calmly. Through Alex and his application of the Bible in his daily life, I came to know and realize that many of our everyday seemingly insoluble problems have answers that can be found in the Holy Book. The trials and tribulations of our daily lives seem minute in compari-son to what the people of Biblical times faced. I believe that anyone possessed of an inherent sense of honesty detests hypocrisy. Convicts are no different. Any prison chaplain is constantly bombarded with this hackneyed excuse: "Padre, I didn't go to church on the outside, why should I be a hypocrite and start going now?" It's true, the words may differ on occasion, but the philosophy never changes. In many ways this atti-tude could be interpreted as an admirable quality in a man if it were not, in the case of the convict, such a stupid and senseless one. Anyone taking the time to look through the Bible can find any number of instances where even the most devoted and revered of God's saints were at one time in their lives steeped in sin and wickedness. Some, such as St. Paul, were even violently opposed to the teachings of Christ, God's beloved Son. From persecutor of the members of Christ's Church to a pillar of that Church is certainly a complete turn about in policy and belief. In other words, St. Paul was certainly no hypocrite. As Alex often pointed out to me, if the Lord could forgive and accept into His heavenly kingdom the murderer and thief hanging on the adjoining cross to Him; if He could forgive and accept into His earthly entourage Mary Magdalene, a woman who was a con-fessed harlot; if He, in His infinite mercy and in His dying agonies could even forgive His murderers, why, then, surely it should not be beyond belief and compre-hension that He could and does accept a modern-day sinner. His Bible constantly reminds us that eternal salvation is ours for the asking. Remember His very words, "Ask and you shall receive." I honestly believe that convicts might ask more often if they had Someone to show or to tell them how. To-day's prisons certainly offer a. fertile field for present-day missionaries. For just as the man or woman dying of pneumonia or a similar infectious disease needs the shot of penicillin more that the ,healthy man does, so does the acknowledged and convicted sinner need the word of God and the comfort and solace that word gives us all. And should any skeptic question the worth of these ¯ sinners and the redeeming of them, I humbly suggest that he read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. + + + VOLUME 29, ~.970 379 FREDERICK A. BENNETT What Makes a Happy (or Unhappy) Nun? Fr. Frederick A. Bennett is intern-ing in clinical psy-chology and lives at St. Therese Rec-tory; 1243 Kingston; Aurora, Colorado 80010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Innumerable books and articles have been written about nuns during the past few years. Yet very little empirical evidence has been brought forth supporting the contentions of the authors. Thousands of nuns have left their communities yet there is a dearth of scientific findings either explaining why these nuns have left or probing the present feelings of those remaining. This study was an attempt to provide a few basic facts relating to psychological factors, particularly happiness, as found today among American nuns. 950 sisters, chosen at random from an original mail-ing list of 35,000 individuals from 91 different active communities across the United States, were mailed a questionnaire in March of 1969. The form used had been tested on a pilot study in late 1968, had under-gone some revision due to findings on that pilot study, and was composed of 54 questions in its final form. Novices and postulants were deliberately excluded. Su-periors, when they could be identified, were replaced by non-superiors in the same convent. The nuns in-volved were guaranteed anonymity both for themselves and for their communities, were told that the results would be made available at least to people in a position to act on the findings, and were then asked for their cooperation. The hoped for cooperation was magnificent. One follow-up letter was mailed and at the conclusion, 853 sisters had returned their questionnaires. This totaled 88% of all possible respondents. The average age of those replying was 4'~ years. The results give a broad cross section of thinking and feelings of pro-fessed American nuns in non-leadership positions. An obvious caution is warranted, however, before considering some of the results. The findings cannot be applied to any individual sister. For example, age is found to correlate highly with happiness. It is dear, however, that this is a generalization. There are happy and unhappy nuns at every age level. But for those who are concerned about th~ future direction of religious life and what must be done on a broad scale to give it the greatest chance of surviving and growing, such generalizations can be of great value. This project falls into a category of psychological studies measuring "avowed happiness" or the happi-ness which a subject claims for himself. Such studies have a long history dating back at least until the 1920s. Recently, however, more extensive work in this area has been carried out through several centers of investigation. Two of the more notable undertakings were those carried out by Gurin and his associates in 19571 and by Bradburn and Caplovitz in 1962.2 The latter concentrated on four small towns in Illinois, two of which were economically depressed, and thus they have a dearly biased sample. Gurin, however, used a nationwide sample of 2460 people "selected by methods of probability sampling to represent all American adults over 21 years of age living in private house-holds." Gurin and associates, Bradburn and Caplovitz, and the present study all asked respondents to note what they considered to be their present level of happiness on a tripartite scale using the classifications of "Very happy," "Pretty happy," or "Not too happy." Despite the simi-larity of responses, however, the results are not ex-actly comparable because of other differences. For example, the replies from the sisters were obtained by mailed questionnaires while the other two projects used personal interviews. Nonetheless, curiosity at least, calls for a comparison of the results of the three studies. Bradburn and Caplovitz (women only) Gurin and associates (women only) Nuns Very happy 23% IPretty happy 60% 50% Not too happy 17% = 100% 12%--- 100% 13% = 100% A comparison of the replies of the subjects of Brad- + burn and Caplovitz in the four small Illinois towns ÷ with the answers of the sisters shows the religious to have both a higher percentage making "Very happy" XG. Gurin, J. Veroff, and S. Feld, Americans View Their Mental Happy Nun? Hea¯lth (New York: Basic Books, 1960). VOLUME 29, 1970 2 N. Bradburn and D. Caplovitz, Reports on Happiness: A Pilot Study o/ Behavior Related to Mental Health (Chicago: Aldine, 1965). 381 replies and a lower percentage giving "Not too happy" responses. As was mentioned above, however, by re-stricting their sample to the four small towns, the atuhors also assured themselves of a biased sample. When the replies of the sisters are compared with the subjects in Gurin's nationwide sample, there is vir-tually no difference in the total responses of the two groups. But a very important difference is found when replies are analyzed by age of respondent. A comparison with Gurin's work by age group shows the following: Gurin (all subjects) Nuns Percentage giving "Very happy" responses Under 35 35-44 45-54 55 and over 40% a~% a4% 27% 31% 31% 36°/o 39°/o ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 382 Gurin (all subjects) Nurl8 Percentage Under 35 giving "Not too happy" responses 35-44 45-54 55 and over 10% 13% 18% 15% ~4% 9% Thus as those who live outside of the convents grow older they show a gradual decrement in "Very happy" responses and an increase of "Not too happy" replies. But for the nuns the trend is in the opposite direction. The nuns who are older tend to have a greater per-centage of their members answering in the "Very happy" category than do younger nuns. Likewise, these older sisters have fewer making "Not too happy" re-sponses. The youngest nuns while claiming less happi-ness than the older nuns also avow less happiness than their age counterparts outside of religious life. One immediate reason that might be advanced for the trend toward greater happiness with advancing age among nuns is that less satisfied members of communi-ties have tended to leave and the more satisfied have tended to remain with the passage of years in religion. This does not seem, however, to account for all of the differences since nuns in the older groups today have lived most of their religious lives in a period when leaving the convent after profession was often the exceptional case. Moreover, the younger groups have already suffered a severe depletion of their ranks and yet the ones who remain are much less happy than those in the older groups. A factor that is considered to contribute to the lessened happiness in older people outside of convents is the loneliness that comes to elderly people through loss of a spouse or breakup of the family. The nuns do not have the problem of widowhood and remain with their communities regardless of their age, This may explain, at least partially, why the older nuns claim greater happiness than older non-nuns. It does not ex-plain, however, the differences between older and younger sisters since both seem to have the same op-portunities to avoid loneliness. But since the degree of loneliness is an important factor in the lives of many, and perhaps most people, a question in the present study was directed toward the investigation of their relative loneliness. The question was phrased as follows: How frequently do you feel lonely? Often __Occasionally __Seldom __Never An analysis of replies to this question uncovered a significant negative correlation between loneliness and the basic question of happiness. Actually, the correla-tion of happiness with loneliness was greater than the correlation of happiness with any other element of the nun's life that was tapped in this study. The basic cor-relation between the two was --.50 which could be expected far less than once in a thousand times simply on the basis of chance alone. The meaning of this correlation is that those who tend to report more frequent instances of loneliness also tend to claim sig-nificantly less happiness for themselves. The question must arise in every correlation as to which is the cause and which is the effect. Thus in the present case, does the loneliness cause the unhappiness, or do those who are unhappy tend to be lonely because they are unhappy? Or is some third factor causing both the loneliness and the unhappiness? Although the ques-tion is insoluble at the present time, one of the sugges-tions that will be made later in this article is based on the premise that loneliness is causing some of the unhappiness and that a major point of concentration should be that of overcoming loneliness. Other significant correlates of happiness were also found. In advance it was hypothesized that three ele-ments would figure prominently in the overall 'happi-ness of nuns. These three can be summarized as inter-personal relations, job satisfaction, and leadership. All were found to be significantly correlated with happiness. Loneliness was considered as pertaining 'to inter-personal relations. But there were also other questions + + + What Makes a Happy Nun? VOLUME 29, 1970 383 pertaining to interpersonal relations that showed a high correlation with happiness. For example, one of the questions asked: Do you feel that the majority of sisters with whom you live really are interested in you as a person? ._____Definitely ___.Probably ~robably not Those who are happier tend to say that they feel that other members of the convent are interested in them as a person and those who are less happy take a dimmer view of the interest of others. In job satisfaction, another highly significant correla-tion with happiness (.34, p. < .001) was found. Those who said they found their job more satisfying also tended to be happier. Leadership was also significantly correlated (.34, p < .001) with happiness. The more favorably the sister rated her superior, the happier she was likely to be. The immediate conclusion is that interpersonal re-lations, job satisfaction, and evaluation of leadership are all significantly related to happiness. But it is most interesting that of the three, leadership and job sati~- faction are less important than interpersonal relation-ships. This is especially worthy of consideration because so much more effort at renewal in many communities seems to be directed toward improving job satisfaction and changing leadership patterns rather than toward improvirig interpersonal relations among the nuns themselves. + ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Leadership An example of leadership modifications is found in communities that have eliminated the local superior. The opportunity to investigate the benefits of this change in leadership role was available in this study since 123 sisters said that they were living in a convent in which there was no local superior. In examining these figures, however, it should be remembered that not having a superior allows for a diversity of ways of being carried out in practice; and no attempt was made to define more exactly what each of the 123 nuns meant when she said that she had no local superior. But taking all those without a superior as one group, no significant difference in happiness was found be-tween those having a superior and those not having one. There was actually a slight tendency for those with a superior to claim greater happiness than those without a superior but this may have been merely a chance happening that would be reversed on another sample. The following are the percentage of responses in both groups: Have a superior Do not have a superior Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy 37% 49% 14%-- 100% 32% ~4% ~4% = ioo% Therefore it appears that simply not having a superior does not necessarily improve chances for happiness among members of the community. Sisters who had a local superior were asked to rate their superior in the following question: How do you evaluate the job of leadership being done by your present local superior? __.Excellent ~_Fair ~.Poor __.Very poor An interesting comparison appears when those who do not have a superior are matched with those rating their superior either high or low. Sisters rating superior good/excellent Sisters rating superior poor/very poor No superior Very happy ~6% 23% 32% Pretty happy 46% Not too happy 8% = 1oo% 33% := 100% i4% = 100% Thus being without a local superior is not as favor-able as having a good superior but is preferable to hav-ing a superior whom the subject feels is doing a poor job. Another area that is of importance today in the question of leadership is that some local communities are able to choose their superior in contrast to the former policy of having all superiors appointed either by the major superior or by vote of the chapter. In this study 82 nuns said that they had been allowed to select their own superior. For this group the following percentages were found: Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy Chose their own 50% 40% 10% = 100% superior ÷ ÷ 4. What Malws a These figures indicate that being able to elect a VOLO~E mo ~gro superior is a very desirable arrangement. Gomparing $85 these figures with those given above for sisters rating their superior as good or excellent, the groups are very similar in their avowals of happiness. Consequently it seems preferable to elect a superior rather than to eliminate her altogether. Election is also, of course, far preferable to having a poor superior imposed from above. + + F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 Departures Sisters have been leaving in substantial numbers dur-ing recent years. To determine the unrest that still re-mains in the convents the following question was asked: During the past six months, which of the following would describe feelings or thoughts you have had about leaving religious life? (60%) I have not considered leaving (23%) I have considered leaving but not seriously (10%) I have seriously considered leaving but have de-cided against it (5%) I have seriously considered leaving and may do so (2%) I will probably leave 100% (The percentage of sisters responding in each way is noted in parentheses before each response.) Although the majority of nuns have not considered leaving during the past six months, a substantial minor-ity of 40% have at least had the idea of leaving enter their minds during that period. Moreover, 17% have seriously considered such a possibility. Thus, although only 7% were still seriously considering leaving when this study was conducted, there is a large group that is somewhat shaky and it is not unlikely that many of this group will again have the idea of departing enter their minds. In addition those who do actually leave will probably intensify thoughts of leaving in others and may induce such thoughts in some of those who have not considered it. It appears, therefore, under this inter-pretation of the figures that the exodus from convents is far from completed unless very drastic changes come about in the thinking of present members. When thoughts of leaving are analyzed by age of respondent, very important differences are again noted. The percentages in each age group are on p. 387. As would be expected, the younger groups are much more likely to be thinking of leaving than are the older nuns. But the extent of the differences between the groups is rather surprising. It is especially important that 73% of the youngest group has considered leaving and 40% have seriously considered it. Thus those who will be leaving will usually be the ones who formerly would be carrying the hopes for religious life in the Have not considered leaving Considered but not seri-ously Seriously considered leav-ing May leave Probably will leave Under 28 ] 27% 33% 10% 100% 28-34 43% 15% 7% lOO% 35-44 57% 25% 8% 8% 2% 100% 4~-55 66% 5% 100% Over 55 89% 4% 0% 0% 1oo% future. A further comment on the ramifications of this will be made later in this article. Other Findings Religious life is directed in large measure toward supernatural and eternal goals. The question arises whether remaining in religious life is dependent on present happiness. There was another highly significant correlation of .47 between happiness and the tendency to remain. This strongly suggests that they are related. Regardless, therefore, of how religious life may have been viewed by spiritual writers in the past, in today's convents present happiness is of importance. The nuns who are less happy are generally the ones who are doing the most thinking about leaving. Religious life cannot be divorced from the spiritual activities of the sisters. But in trying to analyze the influence of spirituality, many very obvious and perhaps insoluble problems arise. Because of these difficulties a very simple question was asked. This question did not attempt to assess the influence that the spirituaI ac-tivities have. It merely inquired about the satisfac-tion that the sister receives. The question was phrased in this manner: How would you describe your usual feelings about the daily spiritual exercises that you are expected to perform? __.I find them very satisfying .I find them somewhat satisfying __.I get little human satisfaction from them Another significant correlation was found with hap-piness. Those who are happier tend to receive greater ÷ satisfaction from their spiritual exercises. But here ÷ especially, the relationship of cause and effect is blurred. ÷ Such a finding could signify that because the sisters are What Makes a happier they thereby tend to be more satisfied with Happy Nun? their spirituality. But it could also signify that because the sister receives greater satisfaction from her formal VOLUME 29, 1970 praying, she thereby tends to be happier. Or again, a 387 ÷ ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~388 third and unknown factor may well be present which is influencing both happiness and satisfaction from spirit-ual exercises. Much research iri past years in social psychology has been devoted to the ideal size of various types of groups. Generally, the best size is found to be less than 12. It was therefore somewhat surprising to find that the number of people residing in the convent in which the sister lives had little effect on her happiness. There were similar reports of happy and unhappy sisters in all sizes of convents. Size was related, however, to some other aspects of the sisters' lives. For example, signifi-cantly more indications of jealousy were found in the largest convents. Conclusions Religious life as we know it seems to be headed for more rough days ahead. Unrest among the nuns is far from terminated. With 40% of the sisters saying that they have at least considered the possibility of leaving their communities within the previous six months, ~many more departures can be anticipated. Moreover, the thoughts of leaving are heavily con-centrated among the younger age groups. When this factor is combined with the importance of interpersonal relationships among the nuns, another disturbing pre-dicament becomes apparent. The younger members are tending to leave more rapidly than the older; if this trend continues, the average age of members of the communities will advance. New young members enter-ing the community in the future will find it all the more difficult to find convents when they go on mission that are staffed by nuns of their own age. A consequence would seem to be that these young nuns of the future will have even greater difficulty in establishing close relationships with other nuns and therefore the chances for loneliness will increase. It is certainly possible and often happens that a young nun finds companionship and meaningful re-lationships with older nuns. But it is more likely for the young nun to find that necessary companionship among nuns of her own age level. Again, this study was not related only to individuals as such, many of whom will go contrary to the findings of this work. Rather the concern was with the overall conditions of religious life. Here it can be said that as the average age of sisters increases, a larger proportion of young nuns will likely find it increasingly difficult to overcome the loneliness that is probably causing some present problems. A personal anecdote may be appropriate here. I re- cently had contact with a large community of contem-plative nuns in which the youngest member had already celebrated her silver jubilee in the community. This convent had not been able to retain the few novices or postulants that had been with them in recent years. Moreover, it would seem to me to be a minor miracle if any young women could be found to enter and re-main in a convent where they would have to bear with such a wide disparity of age. Fortunately such cases are not common today; but unless solutions can be found, it seems likely that other communities, both active and contemplative, may experience somewhat similar difficulties in the coming decades. Further evidence for the stumbling blocks that wide age discrepancies can pose for religious life comes from one of the open-ended questions that were included in the questionnaire. The nuns were asked what they found to be the least satisfying or most discouraging aspect of their life as a religious. The differences be-tween the age groups were striking. For example, a 59 year old nun answered: "The frustration with some younger members." A 30 year old sister said: "Judgmental attitudes of older sisters toward myself." A 73 year old sister pinpointed the age gap saying: "The lack of close communication between the much older sister and the New Modern Sister." Perhaps the split between the generations was most apparent in the attitudes toward change. Frequently the older nuns were most disturbed by what seemed to them to be excesses and the younger were distressed by what they considered to be the hesitancy of some members to change. This was not universal, however, as a few of the older came out with high praise" for the changes but these latter were the exceptions. In general, the generation gap was clear. But as important as age is in laying a foundation for compatibility among sisters, similar age does not insure good interpersonal relations. There are other elements involved in coming to an understanding and meaning-ful relationship with another person or persons. Many psychological, intellectual, and emotional factors are involved. Outside of religious life, freedom of the in-dividuals to choose the companions they wish to have takes account of some of these factors. Freedom to choose one's own companions has never been considered feasible in religious life until very re-cently when it has been tried in a few communities. There was no opportunity in this study to test the value of such a procedure. But an indication of the possible advantages of this arrangement may be inferred fi:om the decided advantage noted of being able to select What ~l~l~e~ a Happy Nun? VOLUME 2% 1970 389 ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 one's own superior. This latter also was not considered feasible until very recent years. With all of the inherent problems involved in being able to select the ones that the sister wishes to live and work with, further con-sideration of such a possibility seems warranted. Additional training in the development of interper-sonal relationships during the novitiate and juniorate may also prove advantageous. Some communities have used sensitivity training and T-groups for this purpose. Unfortunately, there is again no empirical evidence to base a sound judgment upon as to the advantages of such training. But in view of the problems connected with interpersonal relationships within the convents, such training merits consideration and research. Decreasing loneliness among the sisters is not solely dependent upon interpersonal relationships within the convent itself. Nonetheless, community life should be a basic bulwark against loneliness. As of now, however, community life is sometimes [ailing to accomplish this. The findings of this study, however, were not com-pletely negative. There was strong evidence that loneli-ness is not an inherent part of religious life. Not a few of the nuns recounted their experiences in having deep friendships with other sisters as one of the great plus values of religious life. In response to the question: "What do you consider the most satisfying aspect of your life as a religious?" a 34 year old sister replied: "The sisters I live with at the present time." A 64 year old sister replied to the same question saying succinctly: "The sisters." "Community living; the spirit of our com-munity (friendliness and joy)," was the response of a 28 year old nurse. A 39 year old teacher answered that it was "living with sisters who are interested in me as a person," while a 53 year old sister cited "the possibility [or personal fulfillment found in community living" as the most satisfying part of her religious life. It is obvious from these responses that loneliness does not have to accompany religious life. But it has also been shown above that community life does not insure that loneliness will not be present. In summation it can be said that new approaches to interpersonal relationships are needed. The gravity of this need is brought into focus by the distinct possibility that the whole question could become academic. With 70% of the youngest group already considering leav-ing the trend could conceivably be against the continued existence of present type congregations. Reversal of such a trend is not impossible but will take much concen-trated effort. LOUIS TOMAINO The Sister as an Agent oJ.Change As Warren Bennis and his colleagues have suggested, radical change is the one constant which seems to char-acterize this age.1 It seems clear that change is occurring in both the church and in religious orders of women. Sisters are all too familiar with problems of change for they are confronted with the problem of trying to bring about meaningful change in their congregations. They have the task of sorting out planned change from ac-cidental change so that only the more constructive as-pects of the process may be realized and the sisters helped to find more satisfying levels of community existence. Change in this instance may be the basic con-dition for the freedom without which religious life might well become increasingly difficult and unreward-ing; yet, from the standpoint of short range needs, it is often more comfortable for individual sisters not to change. The reluctance of an individual to give up old ways of doing things is understandable when one con-siders the meanings change may have for those who face it. : Out of the many things which could be said about sisters and change, we have selected the idea that sister is an "agent of change" in her own community. If this is true, it might also be added that, in general, she plays the same role in the Church itself and in her apostolate. In the past two years, we have held group dynamics workshops with over 1000 sisters from various congrega-tions during which time we have stressed the change agent concept. In their case, the issue no longer seems to be whether change should occur, but rather, what change is to be encouraged and how might it be facili-tated? This paper reports on some things which char-acterize sisters and change. 1 Warren G. Bennis, Kenneth D. Benne, and Robert Chin, The Planning of Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962). Louis Tomaino is the acting direc-tor of Worden School of Social Services; Our Lady of the Lake College; San Antonio, Texas 782O7. VOLUME 29, 1970 391 Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, two inventive be-havioral scientists, conceptualized a model called the managerial gridS which unified their lengthy study of management and organizational structures. This model proved highly successful in understanding the manage° rial process and helped .develop new techniques in management. Jay Hall and Martha Williams, social psychologists at the Southwest Center for Law and the Behavioral Sciences and former students of Blake and Mouton, utilized the grid concept with an instrument called the change grid. This grid was extremely valuable in workshops with the 1000 sisters. Sisters who are interested in meaningful community change might be expected to have some concerns about the quality of the change. These concerns provide the basic grid dimensions and are expressive of the sisters' thoughts. These are the concern for conformity (that members adhere to community norms) and the concern for commitment (that members truly internalize com-munity norms). Put another way, this says that sisters should comply with what the community expects but do so because they really accept and value those expectations. These dual concerns will affect the kind of change strategies a sister would utilize in her community. The two concerns are thought of as being independ-ent of each other. The sister may fuse them in some way in her relations with other community members but the concerns appear thusly in the beginning: C 0 M MITME NT (The complete grid appears on the following page) Loui~ 2"omai.o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CONFORMITY Different sisters impute varying strengths to these con-cerns. Those who perceive themselves as "traditional-ists" may exhibit more conformity interests, while those who view themselves as "progressives" might prefer commitment concerns in their approaches to change. So ~ Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, The Managerial Grid (Hous-ton: Gulf Publishing Co., 1964). that we might consider "how much" concern sisters manifest, each axis is scaled from 1 to 9. The value 1 will mean "low concern for" while the unit 9 will de-note "high concern for." Three methods of securing change assume that the concerns for conformity and commitment are in con-flict-- that communities cannot hope to insure both ends and must thereby choose one over the other. These methods (reading grid fashion, fight and up) are the 9/1, 1/9, and I/1 approaches. High THE CHANGE GRID ~/9 Ptrson-~Tentsred Clu~ng~t : There is a natural trend toward personal growth once an individual is free to accept himself. The task of the change agent is to help the person accept his strengths and weaknesses without the judgmental pressures of othersD values being in-troduccd. Then he will be able to accept both society and its values. 9/9 C~ang¢ ola CndiMli~y : Since behavior is learned, it may b~ modified through relearning. The change agent's task is one of creating conditions under which people can learn the consequences of current behavior and explore the feasibility of new behavior~ in realistic settings. Reality testing resalts in conformity based on commitment. Low Charismatic ~hangt : People accept suggestions only from people they can respect. The change agent must be "one of the guys" ff he is to gain enough prestige to influence. Changees will copy his behavior to win his respect and will then learn it is better. ~ustodial No one person can really change another. People only conform or fail to conform if they want to. The task of the change agent nccessarily is one of apprising the changce of the rules and then leaving it up to him to decide whether he wants to follow them and stay out of t~ouble or break them and suffer the conse-quences. At the same time, the change agent must keep those in authority informed as to how the changee is behaving. 9/t C~angt Via C~mplianrt: It may not be possible to change a personDs attitude, but one can change his behavior if he makes it elear what is expected of the changcc and what can happen if the changee fa~ls to conform. The change agent's taak is to transmit this information dearly and then to follow up by keeping "tabs'~ on the changee to see that he con-forms and knows that the change agent means business. 4 5 6 7 8 9 High Coastrn for Conformity The 9/1 .4pproach--Change through Compliance The lower right hand corner of the grid tells of that change strategy which is maximally concerned for con-fortuity and minimally concerned for commitment. This sister decides that community members cannot do both Agent oJ Change vo~u~ 2,, ~97o 393 Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~9~ so it is better to use one approach and make it work. The 9/1 sister will likely express her philosophy in this manner: It's been my experience that people do things only when they have to. A lot of the time sisters can't possibly agree with the way the Church says they have to conduct themselves, but they have to nevertheless., or suffer the consequences. Once a per-son realizes this, he makes it easier on himself and everybody else. I think change can best be brought about by spelling out what is expected of a person and what provisions exist for dealing with him when he doesn't conform. My job, as an agent of change, is to work with persons closely and see that they follow the letter of the law so that their behavior is acceptable and in accordance with general values o£ the Church. The 9/1 strategy does bring about change in many instances. The thing communities need to be aware of is some of the consequences which this approach pro-duces in others. Such responses as fear, rebellion, re-sentment, and hostility are byproducts in others of the 9/1 stance. Such psychological outcomes are unfavor-able for effecting change in the people who have those feelings. Under this system the community must be run as a "tight ship" with few democratic overtones. Indeed, for many years religious communities functioned as 9/1 organizations. Some still do. However, other 9/1 systems like the military and the police have begun to change albeit imperceptibly. With the advent of Vatican II, religious orders have also witnessed a trend away from compliance oriented styles of management. It used to be that sisters' behaviors could be regulated under con-ditions allowing little deviation from specified require-ments, and that by this fait accompli effect sisters would eventually acquire commitment. This "legalized" ap-proach to change does not seem a very satisfactory method for inducing long term commitment. The 1/9.4pproach--Person-cente~ed Change The person-centered strategy represented in the upper left grid corner assumes that people want to gain the values of the congregation and will gravitate toward that end when they are "freed" to do so. Concerns for conformity are rejected as antithetical to free choice. Person-centered change is designed to help the sister ac-cept her own shortcomings as a means of finding herself in her community and accepting others as well. Trust and appreciation are central to this relationship and concerns for conformity are seen as "getting in the way" of real commitment. This sister would likely perceive matters as follows: Basically people want to live good lives and get along well in their communities, but many of them just don't knowhow. Too many people have never had the opportunity to get to know themselves and, consequently, they can't really accept themselves or other people. I think the job of an agent of change is to work closely with people so that they can first learn to accept themselves as genuinely important human be-ings. Then they will be able to accept and appreciate others as well and will feel worthy of the religious life. Once a person has gotten rid of his own self doubts, he will naturally begin to grow and seek out the solid values of his congregation. The job of the change agent is one of helping people find self-ac-ceptance and freedom of expression, on the basis of which real growth can occur." The 1/1 Approach--Laissez Faire Change CustodiaI change as depicted in the lower left-hand corner of the grid presumes that individuals are autoge-nous and change or fail to do so as a result of their own desires. This really is not a change strategy but more a reflection of the change agent's unique perception of his own role. These sisters believe in "the way we have always done things" and think that change is up to other persons. Her philosophy would read like this: I believe that in the long run it is impossible for one person to really change another. Human nature is the strongest determinant of behavior and some people are just naturally better than others. It seems to me that the best thing for an agent of change to do is to spell out the rules for people as clearly as he can and then let them make their own choice as to whether they are going to follow them or not. Where there are clear rules, there are also pretty clear consequences spelled out for any failure to conform. People are pretty much their own bosses and it isn't realistic for any one person to try to change them. At best, a change agent is a representative of his community who hopes and prays that others will obey. In the end this way of thinking will promote "don't rock the boat" values, and terminate in "rut." Idealistic 1/9 type candidates who enter the 9/I congregations might well end up making 1/1 adjustments, Psychic en-ergy gets diverted to secondary external matters such as housecleaning, posturing, gestures,, and various other correctness models. Under these conditions communities may appear to function smoothly because everything seems to be in order. Underlying this facade, however, is a profile of non-involvement by community members with each other and, sometimes, an apparently perfunc-tory apostolic performance. The 5/5 Approach--Charismatic Change In the grid center we find a 5/5 strategy which says that the sister must have concern for both conformity and commitment. However, this approach also states that the more concern exhibited for one means less for the other. In effect, this sister goes half way with both concerns. She seeks to gain the respect and affection of Agent o~ Change V0LU~E 29, 197o 395 Louis To'malne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 others and utilizes this commitment to herself as a per-son to bring about change in others. Her philosophy is expressed along these lines: I think people basically resent being told what to do or what is expected of them by other people who don't really understand their problems or have had no experience in com-mon with them. I think the agent of change has to be a person who understands the situation of the people he is trying to change so that they will respect his judgment. The best way to bring about change is to first convince people that you are "one of them" and then set the exam.pie. When a person sees someone he respects and can trust acting a certain way, he will usually try to act the same way simply because he respects that person and wants to be respected by him in turn. This is a hard but effective way of bringing about change and the agent of change has to be sincere and willing to really give of his time. Change through 5/5 dynamics can be very effective. Its implementation is difficult because it requires a highly

Issue 28.2 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDIT~)R R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant edRor, as wel! as books for review, should be sent to ~EVIE~,V FOR RELIOIOUSj 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32t Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, ~be editoria| ot~ices being located at 612 llumboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Questions for answering should be seni to the address of the Questions and Answers editor, MARCH ~969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 2 ANDRE AUW, C.P. The Evangelical Counsels: Ways of Becoming Free- Many years ago a young man walked into a Jewish synagogue and at the time for the readings, arose, took the scroll that was handed to Him, and read the follow-ing lines: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good tidings to the afflicted, He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, Toproclaim liberty to the captives, Andthe opening of the prison to those who are bound. The young man, of course, was Jesus Christ, a man sent by God to be a liberator of men: And His mission was never more beautifully described than in those words of Isaiah which he read to the assembly: "He has sent'me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to .those who are bound." The mission was one of liberation, of enabling men to become free. If it is true that our mission as religious is the same as Christ's mission, then it is important thatwe .examine the vows, and the counsels on which they are based, in the light of freedom. And so I have chosen to do this, tO discuss the vows as possible means of liberating us as persons, so that we can help others to become liberated. I would like to begin this consideration of the vows with a personal reflection that might serve as a frame-work for my approach. For the past five years I have been working with a great variety of groups: college students, married couples, priests, religious--men and women of all faiths or of no faith. And I have been surprised at the consistency of their impressions of re-ligious, Gradually I have been able to weave together a fabric + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P., writes from the Center for Students of the Person; P.O. Box 2157; La Jolla, California 92037. VOLUME 28," 1969 .175 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from their attitudes and responses. It is a fabric that is not pleasant to touch. I have the impression that their one dominant way of evaluating us is ~in terms of free-dom. For the most part they see us as terribly unfree. They see us as dedicated, well-intentioned men and women, who are, nevertheless, imprisoned by our way of life, trapped by our traditions, hemmed in, and, as the c.ollege students say, "hung up" by our systems and legal prescriptions. The most vocal expression of these feelings has come from the college student groups. And perhaps that is why my initial reaction to this consistent message was one of annoyance and irritation. I found myself rather defensive at what seemed to be an adolescent smugness on the part of these students, and at what appeared to be a. very unfair and unbalanced evaluation. Not all reli-gious are so rigid, unfree, trapped, and hemmed in. That was my initial reaction, But when I reflected a little more I discovered that I was reacting to things I did not want to believe could be true. And when I could be more honest with myself, I had to admit that this is the very image that many religious, including myself, have projected. My pondering also gave me some other valuable in-formation. Not only were these people telling me things about myself that I found hard to hear. They were also trying to tell me things about themselves which they found hard to bear. They were speaking of their fears. Seeing me unfree they were reminded of their own fear of never becoming free enough to be a mature loving person. They thought of their fear of being swallowed up in an impersonal, computerized society, of their fear of .being trapped by outdated traditions and hemmed in by unreasonable laws. All of their fears and frustrations which have been spilling out in bloody streaks from Watts to Washington, D.C., from the lawns of Berkeley to the halls of Columbia, were freshly underlined. It seems that they had turned toward, me, a religious, in hope, but finding me unfree, had turned away from me in sadness. They felt they must search elsewhere to find someone free enough to be able to show them the way to freedom. ¯ And so it seems to me to be a vital need to consider the vows in the light of freedom, to measure them by the manner in which they measure up as liberating forces in our lives. Nietzsche once said: "If they¯want me to believe in their God. they are going to have to sing better hymns for me; they are going to have to show me that they are men who have been liberated." Mod-ern man is saying the same thing to us today. He knows the message of Christ is essentially ]iberative, and be wants to see how well that message has liberated the religious who call themselves witnesses, before he will. consider buying it. In order to understand the vows as ways of becoming free we should understand what we mean by .freedom. It is not the ability to do whatever pleases me. That is narcissism. St. Paul has described it beautifully in the following instruction to the Galatians: "You should be free to serve one another in love" (Gal 5:14). And Doctor Carl Rogers spells that out a little more sharply when he talks about "a freedom which. [man] courageously uses to live his potentialities., which assists [him] in becoming human, in relating to others, in being a per-son." This is a freedom which makes us responsible lovers, concerned about responding sensitiveIy to others and not inhibited by the shadows of our own fears. How can the vows be ways of enabling us as religious to possess this kind of freedom? Let us examine them separately. First, poverty. What is there about this way of being a.nd living which can be liberating for us? In view of the definition of freedom as the ability to serve my brother in love, I would see poverty as a statement of value. For me, the true spirit of poverty is a way of being which can help me to tell my brother that I consider him more important than the material possessions I can acquire. And by not being so dependent upon .having things I am truly freer to share myself with others. Not needing to satisfy so many of my own desires, I can be more open and responsive to the needs of others. This is certainly the accent that we find in Scripture. Having things or not having things is of secondary importance in New Testament reflection on poverty. The emphasis is not on having, but on being: being able to "be" for others. The tragedy of the rich man Dives in the Lazarus story is not that he was wealthy, but that his wealth had made him insensitive and in-capable of meeting the needs of his suffering brother. There is, I feel, a parallel today in the attitude of people towards the poverty of religious. I do not be-lieve that intelligent people are harshly critical of us be-cause we possess large buildings and bank accounts. But they are severely critical when our buildings or our money keep us aloof and uninvolved in serious social issues. They can tolerate our need for some kind of. status but they cannot forgive us when we are incapable of service. As religious we need help in order to appreciate pov-erty as a way of freeing us from the paralyzing effect of accumulated material possessions. Freeing us from the demands of our own egos, so that we can walk--or even + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 177 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS run--to meet the needs of others. And so that we can do this without wanting a lot of "extras." When we do not have this spirit, something rather ugly happens to us even though we do not consciously promote it. We become very protective of our own in-terests. Speaking in another context, Charles Davis re-ferred to this self-service: The official church is racked with fear, insecurity and anxiety, with a consequent intolerance and lack of love. And what frustrates any effort at remedy is the perpetual dominance of the system over the person., the system always comes first. I would like to hope that I could become a different kind of religious, one who is seen as valuing the human person above any thing or system. I would like to be seen by those whom I serve as poor in material posses-sions, but rich in caring, unselfish as I serve them, and sometimes even a bit joyous in the sharing of myself: what I am and what I have as a Christ-person. This is the kind of witness that modern man needs and wants. He is terribly frustrated and unhappy with his accumulated wealth. He finds the things he possesses getting in the way of his relationships with the people he loves. And he does not know how to free himself. He needs people who can show him a new set of values and a new way of being with people. And finally, in regard to poverty, it is worthwhile re-calling that when Christ, after the miracle of Naim, was asked: "Are you the Messiah?" He responded not by pointing to the miracle of new life given to a dead man. Instead, He said: "Go and tell John what you see., the poor have the gospel preached to them." That was, and is still, the sign par excellence of the messianic liberator. It is the sign that shows people what Christ and His message are all about. Next let us examine obedience as a way of becoming free. I especially like Father Van Kaam's concept of obedience. It is taken from the root meaning of the word, "obaudire," which means "to hear." For me, obedience can be a wonderfully freeing thing when it is understood as a sensitive listening to the heartbeat of the Christian community. I think I would also add, a responsive and responsible listening. This means that those in authority and those under them have a need to listen to one an-other, to listen together to those they are committed to serve. It is responsive, and this implies a kind of generous spontaneity which is far removed from docile acceptance of an order. And it is responsible, which implies the recognition of an obligation that stems from a love com-mitment. For many the word obedience conjures up fantasies of force and control and restriction. How then can obedience be seen as a liberating force? I believe that one factor which can truly make obedience liberating is the factor of trust. The social and behavioral scientists have done con-siderable work in the area of authority relationships and they have discovered some interesting facts. They have found that when a climate of trust exists in a group, the people who are in positions of authority, are more re-laxed and do not feel a need to maintain tight kontrol and supervision. They are inclined to be open to sug-gestions for change. Those who are working for them tend to produce better and to assume responsibility for the welfare of the group as well as for the work they must do individually. One of the elements which Doctor Jack Gibb isolated in groups where authority relationships were poor was the attitude on the part of those in positions of leadership. These leaders held two assumptions regarding those who worked for them: that they were not to be trusted, and that they were irresponsible. Unfortunately, in many cases, these assumptions became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy which created the very conditions that man-agement sought to avoid. There may well be similar assumptions on the part of religious superiors. We have had a long heritage of pro-tectiveness, and it is hard to effectively break away frown these patterns. Undoubtedly the atmosphere of trust is much better now than it was ten years ago, but there most likely is still a great deal of work to be done in religious communities in this area. Our obedience can be lib-erating for us only when, together, we can begin to as-sume that we can be trusted and that we can be re-sponsible for ourselves. Paradoxical as it may sound, a person must be truly independent before he can surrender himself to another. Thus I, as a religious, must experience your trust and my own responsibility before I can surrender my needs and desires in such a way that together we can listen sensi-tively to the needs of the community we serve. It is then, and only then, that I can find it possible to accept a diffi-cult assignment or perform unpleasant tasks as a respon-sive and responsible lover. Doctor Carl Rogers has said that in order to be a really effective teacher a person must have a profound trust in the human organism and its potentialities. Otherwise he will cram the student full of all the information he thinks is good for him rather than help the student to learn what is important for him. Having worked with Doctor Rogers I can state that this is not mere theory for him; it is the way he functions with people. He pre- + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 179 ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS' fers to be gullible, to take people at face value, .and to believe the things they say to him. And oddly enough, people are so warmed by this kind of unconditional ac-ceptance that they soon stop telling lies and cease trying to impress. They find they no longer have to hide their refil feelings, and it is a very wonderful experience for them. By experiencing the trust of a loving person they were.able to begin to surrender a bit of themselves. I believe it is this kind of trust which is needed to transform our understanding of obedience. Obedience should not make us docile conformists, but responsible lovers. Today more than ever before we need a concept of obedience which will enable, us to assume responsi-bility for our actions and our lives. We need greater power to freely surrender our self-centered desires and needs. The example of Peter in the New Testament seems to be a striking illustration of the kind of obedience I am talking about. Peter began his authority relationship with Christ feeling very insecure. He made a great many mistakes, yet each time he did so, Christ confirmed him as a person by making him feel that He still trusted him. The peak experience for Peter came during the meet-ing with Christ outside the palace of the high priest. Peter, ashamed at his betrayal, finally found the courage to look at Christ, and that loving glance of the Master made Peter aware that Christ still believed in him, still trusted him. It was only after this that Peter felt secure enough to accept the responsible task of shepherding the flock for Christ. It was Christ's trust of Peter that made' possible the entrusting of the flock to him. And it was this same trust that transformed Peter into a re-sponsive and responsible lover. This is a way of being that modern man wants to dis-cover very badly. He finds it so hard to reach beyond the limits of his own ego. He is searching for someone who can show him an obedience which is an exercise of responsibility freely chosen, and yet something binding and demanding because that is the way of love. Modern man needs to experience this kind of trust-filled loving so that he too can become free to love. He wants to be able to say in the words of The Little Prince: "I am re-sponsible for my rose." That would be for him the state-ment of a truly obedient man, rejoicing in an obedience which is richly liberating. Finally we come to the vow of celibate love. I have chosen to discuss it under this title rather than that of chastity because I believe this best expresses, the real meaning o.f the vow. There has been so much written on celibacy in the past year that I iliad it difficult say something which will ,1 not be excessively redundant. Perhaps the best approach will be to share some of my reactions to recent articles that I have read. Frankly, I am not impressed byo being told that I am an eschatological sign because I am a celibate. I really do not think that the men and women who come in contact with me are go.ing to experience a love that. is redeeming simply by being aware that I can point to a way they will love one another in heaven. They need to know how to love here and now. I am not denying the theology of eschatological witness; I am saying that it is not a good enough reason to justify my be!ng a celibate. But perhaps the thing that disturbs me most about recent discussions on celibacy is the somewhat naive as-sumption that the celibate way of life "ex se" or. auto-matically will produce good results; that it will make us better lovers. Anyone who has worked closely with re-ligious in different communities 'knows that this simply is not an assumption based on fact. The fact is that we find it hard to be generous and warm lovers, in com-munity as well as out of community. And for me that is the very heart of the matter: being able to love others humanly, warmly. One of the most beautiful compliments that I.have re-ceived is a statement that has poignantly sad overtones: "You know you don't seem like a priest; you're so hu-man." What kind of celibacy is it that 'contributes to such an image? On the other hand I am equally disturbedby propo-nents of some undefined "third way," who speak so un-realistically of married love. Marriage can be just as de-humanizing as celibacy, as any counselor knows. Sexual expression :without sexual integration can be just as dev-astating for married persons as the lack of sexual expres, sion without-sexual integration can be for celibates. Neither marriage nor celibacy guarantees any(hing in the way of mature loving. However, both can be Ways of becoming free in order to grow as lovers. Both demand sexual integration as a prerequisite for personal fulfill-ment. And botl~ take a great deal of work and pain and perseverance and patience.' What then is there about the celibate .way of loving which can be for a religiousa liberating experience? First of all, I believe that celibacy, lovingly and. freely embraced, enabIes me to say to those I am committed to serve that I can love them in a way which is rich and deep and truly human, but in a way which is not demanding. And this is a magnificently freeingkind of awareness. It means that when I have accepted my sexuality and be-gun to integrate if, I can add another dimension to my VOLUME ~'St 2.969 "~, ; ISt 4, 4, Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18~ relationships. I can show people what it means to love someone just ~for himself. Not for his usefulness or phys-ical attractiveness. Not for his fine mind or remarkable talents, but just for himself. I can show him a way of loving and living which inte-grates se~xuality in a way that is different from married people. "It is a way which recognizes the splendor of sexuality, but which at the same time chooses to refrain from sexual .expression. I can show this person how to love both men and women warmly and deeply, with tenderness and even affection, without the overriding fear of automatic sexual involvement. And this, I believe, is precisely the kind of loving that modern man is hungry for. He is very confused by his sexuality, and it has become for him the alpha and omega of his existence. Deep within him he senses that ful-fillment iiavolves more than sex, but he finds it hard to translate this vague inner feeling into the language of everyday living because he does not find enough lovers who think much differently from the way he does. Modern man can learn a great deal from a religious who appreciates his sexuality enough to give it just enough importance in his life, but no more than that. How much it can mean for the confused modern to experi-ence a love which accepts him not for anything he has, but only for what he is. This alone is enough to be redemptive for many men and women. It seems as if there is in the heart of man a yearning for the model lover who is strong enough in serf-mastery to be free to be a kind of savior for others. In the folklore of most nations and tribes there are redemptive figures who, most often, were celibates during the time of their inessianic mission. We have only to recall the mythical warriors of the Far East and of-Indian culture, the many versioned prince myths of the early Middle Ages, the knights of King Arthur, and even in our own coun-try, the man of the West, the hero of the desert and prairie. Let us think of this last figure [or a moment. In story and song he has been pictured as a man of great physi-cal and moral strength. But primarily he is a man on a redemptive mission, living only for others. He rides into a town, bringing his honesty and integrity. He is manly; but also gentle with women. He is compassion-ate toward the poor and helpless. He stamps out evil and plants the seeds of goodness and truth. He brings sal~cation to a village. And when his redemptive mission is accomplished, this celibate lover accepts the love that people can give him in return for his, but he never de-mands it. Then, 'his work finished, he rides of[ alone to anbther ~¢illage and other people who need his kind of loving in order to be redeemed, to be liberated. In a similar way the modern religious celibate ac-complishes his redemptive mission. What he really gives to others is a portion of his own gift of freedom. He too will have to "ride" alone, but only in the sense of not having a single exclusive love relationship. For as he grows in his own mature sense of .freedom he ,will 'be enriched by many deep and beautiful love relationships. And this too becomes a gift to be shared with others, the gift of knowing how to put love and sexuality into a splendid and yet practical perspective. The task of integrating these two elements is always a difficult one. But one insight is very important. A sister, during a weekend workshop with .married couples, ex-pressed it well. She said: "You know, before this Week-end I had planned to leave my religious community. But now, I'm not so sure. You see, I thought my problems were the problems of a celibate religious, and I dis-covered that they are the problems of a woman. I found married women with the same basic problems, and they are making better adjustments to. them than I have been doing." This is so very true. Most of our problems are ,not the result of our celibacy but of our humanness. Neither marriage nor sexual intercourse will resolve our ten-sions. These will be resolved when we learn how to be-come truly human and loving. Then it will be possible for the celibate way of life to be rewarding for us and redeeming for others. It is then that we can demonstrate to others a love that is most beautiful because it is least demanding. Celibacy will not automatically make us great lovers, but a lover who understands and values his celibacy can be a model lover for others, a lover who is free enough to be able to free others. Certainly it is this kind of loving that is needed so desperately today by modern man who no longer feels lovable or loved. It may well be that only when he .ex. periences such undemanding love will he be ~onvinced of the genuine value of Christ's love. It may be that he will be able to believe in the celibate lover of Calvary only after he has come to believe in other celibates who can surrender, as He did, one of the most priceless gifts that God has given them. Perhaps .then, when he sees us free enough to surrender our sexuality for his sake, he may come to believe that he really is worth sav-ing and that God does care about him after all. It is a knowledge that many men still seek when they come ih contact with celibate lovers. These, then, are some of my reflections on the vows as ways of becoming free. I would like to understand the vows as ways of enabling us to be free enough to make it possible for others to believe in themselves. I would.like ÷ ÷ ÷ The Counsels,~ . VOLUME' 28~' 1969" '° :. ,183 + to think that we can be free from the obsessive need to accumulate things, free to surrender ourselves to others, free to love deeply and warmly. And that is why I feel that we must seek new insights concerning the vows. A young high school student, talking, about religious life and the vows, was asked what kind of religious com-munity he would have if he were to start one tomorrow, The young man said: "Well; I don't think I would make them take any vows." But then he paused and reflected on that, and he added a sentence that sums up the whole meaning of the vows and the religious life. He said: "Unless it would be possible to take a vow., to love." If that were truly the spirit behind our vows, they would be, for us, ways of becoming free. Finally, it is well to remember that the way of the vows is the way of Christ Himself. It is the way of a man with a mission to set men free. And the men of Christ's time were not so very different from the men of our day: angry, restless, rebellious, indifferent, frightened, and insecure, yet searching for a Christ-person who would be their liberator. Christ walked into their midst, heard their cry, and showed them a way of life that was for them a way of freedom. He showed them how to be free~ from the de-humanizing demands of the law and tradition, free from the imprisoning fear of what people might say, free from the overconcern about food and power and sex. Christ showed them a way of poverty and obedience and celibate love. Today we, as .religious, stand in the place of Christ to continue His redemptive mission, to be His witnesses. If we can find better ways to be what we say we are, then we too can arise in the assembly and announce to the world that we also have been sent to "bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." And hopefully, people will hear us not because of what we say, but because of what we are: witnesses. Perhaps the following lines spell that out for us in clearer language: A witness is A man who stands out Because he is not afraid to stand up A man who outreaches others Because he reaches out to other.s Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 A man who lifts others up Because he bends down to their weakness A man whose heart has grown great Because he has learned to become small A witness is all this and more He is a man who walks across the wastelands Of human lives And uncovers hidden springs A man who opens windows everywhere To the sunlight and springtime fragrance Of the risen Christ And passing through the doors of seILfilled hearts He lights and leaves behind An everlasting flame Ultimately a witness is a man who does all these things Because He is not afraid To love. The CoUnsels VOLUME 28, 1969 I85 CARL J. PETER Culture and the Vocation Crisis Carl J. Peter teaches theology and lives at Curley Hall, Box 49; Cath-olic University of America in Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A change has occurred in the way young men and women view the prospect of becoming a priest, lay brother, or nun. At the very least they manifest less en-thusiasm or inclination along these lines. One may ask when this began or indeed inquire whether it has not just begun. Few, I think, will challenge the proposition itself. This change of attitude is very definitely evidenced by those who have matriculated in the Catholic school sys-tem. One encounters it in the Mary and Johnny of whom but a few years back while they were still on the primary level in parochial schools, we asked why they could not read. All of this is true and will be conceded by those who regard the situation as healthy no less than by those who regard it as disastrous. Religious Convictions and the Young The change in question has causes that are closely connected with religious conviction or its lack. There is an obvious hesitancy on the part of youth, an unwilling-ness or an unreadiness to embrace as a state of life the ministry of the gospel in its traditional form. But it is a great oversimplification, I feel, to assign as a total ex-planation a weakening or loss of faith. In some cases, + precisely the opposite is true. + At least many of the young people involved are any- + thing other than lacking in generosity. Interest in im-proving the lot of tbeir fellow man characterizes their mental and emotional outlook. Here is where the diffi-culty lies. In ever increasing numbers they fail to see this humanitarian interest connected with the life of the priesthood, sisterhood, and brotherhood. One may contend that this is because of the present conditions in which these callings are lived and exercised, because, for example, so much of a priest's time and 18fi energy is spent in activities that have no apparent con- nection with the betterment of mankind or at least one that is very minimal. Devoting each Monday to counting the collection; running off the Sunday bulletin on the rectory or parish duplicator; keeping the books for the school hot lunch program--the instances could be multi-plied. Now it is surely a mistake to associate a priest's work exclusively with such activities. But to ask young people to ignore this aspect is expecting a bit too much. A large part of the problem with regard to vocations is that prospective candidates see too much activity on the part of the cleric or religious" too little connected with making mankind's future better than its past. Liturgy and a Life Choice But this is not all. Even in cultic functions associated with the administration of the sacraments, there is real difficulty. Whether humanity is genuinely better off be-cause of all this divine worship is a question posed over and over again. Here it is not a matter of poorly or sel-dom exercised functions of the priest but rather the im-portance pure and simple of such fimctions in the world at all. Many adults recognize this and conclude that the vocation crisis connected with such questioning is really a crisis of faith. My contention, however, is that at least some of these difficulties and doubts in the religious realm are caused by a cultural change that affects the entire world of man in all its facets. The crisis of vocations is connected often enough with a corresponding crisis of faith. This is not so much because many have simply ceased to believe but rather because the atmosphere in which they have grown up and live demands a choice between conflict-ing values, religious ones included. As a result, young people find it both harder to reject the latter outright and yet more difficult as well to embrace them fully. The reason is that our day is one of cultural transformation with all that this involves. If this is anything other than self-evident, it is nevertheless important. The Meaning of Cultural Change To make the statement that culture has a great deal to do with the unrest experienced by youth and indeed believers in general is hardly a novelty today. It is intro-duced into the present context with the hope that it will be more than a mere repetition. To achieve this will re-quire making an effort to clarify what is meant by cul-tural change. Only then will others be able to judge whether this is in fact what is taking place with profound religious consequences. Such explanation is precisely what is lacking in a number of other attempts to trace the believer's troubles to this same source. Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 18'/ Carl .I. Peter REVIE%' FOR RELIGIOUS Examples may be of help. Leslie Dewart has con-nected the present plight Of Christianity with a retention of Hellenism or Hellenistic culture.x There is nothing to be gained from adding one more name to the list of critics of The Future of Belief.2 It is, however, a far from easy task to determine what he means by Hellenism. And yet this is quite important for his contention. Something very similar is true of Bishop John Robin-son. 8 He contends that the present difficulties of Chris-tianity are in great part connected with the fact that fundamental truths are being rejected wholesale because they are presented in a "supranaturalistic" mode of thought: The latter is surely a cultural phenomenon, but one that is extremely vague. It seems to involve a world picture with God outside the physical and psychic uni-verse but intervening now and again. To retain such a world picture, he writes, is incompatible with being a truly modern man. Meaningful truths fall under the weight of their utterly unacceptable trappings that bear witness to a dead culture. But here precisely is his problem. God, for Robinson, is not intended to be the product of a culture. Yet if one cannot tell what you mean by the latter, you do run the risk of having others hard pressed to determine whether you really stand for a God who endures despite a cultural change. At this point some are probably wondering whether it is not precisely a crisis o[ faith that must be dealt with. Perhaps it is. But to no small degree it is first of all a cultural crisis leaving its marks on all of us. Bishop Robinson may not have been successful in explaining what he means by a change of culture. He has never-theless described well the period in which we are living. It is the age of the overlap, the period in which some-thing very new is still in the process of emerging. Ours is a period of tension or dialectic. Hopefully a beneficial synthesis will be the outcome. One thing is sure; neither of the two extremes in the present picture culturally is likely to remain as is. Both are going to be modified and remarkably so. But it is the present state that must be analyzed, again with the observation that understanding what is happening is a first step toward dealing reason-ably and effectively with the situation. Good practice depends on an accurate assessment of what is involved. Dewart and Robinson call attention to the pangs in-volved in the change through which we are living. Both are agreed on this. An old culture is in the process 1 Leslie Dewart, The Future of Belie[ (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966). '-' See the remarks of Jaroslav Pelikan and Bernard J. F. Lonergan in Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), pp. 352-6 and 336-51 respec-tively. s John A. T. Robinson, Honest to God (London: SCM, 1963). of dying. It does not offer a form that religious belief will find viable in the future.4 In my opinion they are correct; the. cultural state we are now in cannot last. Indeed it takes no prophet to see that it will not. An-other thing is equally sure. Things will not revert to the way they were before all this began, whenever that was. The present situation makes that abundantly clear. Culture and Values Our age is.witnessing a remarkable conflict of values, and they are not directly religious in nature. At least they can be and are embraced by those who avowedly profess or practice no religion at all as well as by various types of believers in a Supreme Being. Now if this is true, it is also a prerequisite for understanding the cultural crisis of the present. For what 3[ mean by culture involves at0 the very least values and indeed a'more or less connected set of values. My contention is that we are living in a period of.history where there is a particularly fierce struggle between two opposing sets of purely human values. If some sort of synthesis is the most likely and desirable outcome, still, living in the overlap can be confusing. Two sets of values compete; each has something ~o be said for it, something to commend it. For many this is stimulating, but for no small number, ever increasing knowledge, acquaintance, and experience preclude, decisions on a clear course of action. In fact at times the result is paralysis or choices no sooner made than regretted, commitments given and then retracted. But if a convict of values can lead to these practical consequences, what sort of values are in question? The Good and Its Modes Getting things done or a sense of practical "know-how" has from the earliest days been a characteristic of our country. Indeed, it was very quickly identified ~with Yankees and their ingenuity. To put this another way, achievemerit and performance are values long esteemed by our society. And yet as ea'rly as the War between the States they were sought after in two radically opposed ¯ ways. Preservation of a heritage was the performance one section of the nation desired; improvement, refine. ment, elimination of defects and evils inspired the other. Concretely the value of performance, know-how, or achievement was realized in two conflicting ways. Given the question of freedom and human dign.ity, it is dear ~For a case along the same line but developed with heavy dependence on American Pragmatism as a philosophical basis, see Eugene Fontinell, "Religious Trtith in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 16 (1967), pp. 283-315. 4- 4- 4- ¥ocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ,196~ Carl ~ J.~ Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 that a moral issue was at stake. But there were other as-pects as well; for instance, strict or loose construction of the Constitution. Both forms of interpretation were religiously' neutral if not secular. Both likewise had ref-erence to the value of performance. But the way the lat-ter was realized in North and South led to tension, strife, and conflict. The situation afterwards was never the same again. There is something in this history that repeats itself. Clinging to tradition and the progress achieved in the past claims the allegiance of certain minds and hearts. It is likely true that this will always be the case. Still others are no less moved by the desire to strike out and move ahead in man's endless effort to better his~lot on this planet. Education offers another example. The value of a teacher's performance is judged in terms of pedagogical goals. Some maintain the educator aims at handing on truth, with the supposition that humanity has already achieved it in a way that can be improved but never fundamentally surpassed. By instinct and. reasoned con-viction others look for the teacher or professor to en-gage together with the student in a quest for truth. The assumption is that there is always more worth looking for and in comparison with which the knowledge at-tained is partial and incomplete. Now neither of these attitudes toward pedagogical goals is directly religious. Neither is exclusively demanded by Catholic faith. But the adoption of either as a value has religious implica-tions. An illustration may be of assistance. A question arises that is new and demands some sort of response or answer. Before doing anything else, the man or woman influenced by the value of preserving truth will attempt to solve the present case by recourse to precedents. Only too often this involves making the present in its unique-ness conform, whether it really does or not, with norms that were established earlier but without the slightest intention of binding all future generations. The value of preserving truth and past achievements translates itself religiously into that of fidelity. If the past has no claim to direct our own religious history, then there was no uniqueness in the event we call the Incarnation. Then God has not involved Himself irrevocably and finally in the history of man long before 'our day. When one re-gards0 education as a process of passing on certain truths, he is predisposed to be concerned religiously with the fidelity of God and man. A cultural value, namely pi:eserving the accomplishments of the past, can and does have profound religious consequences in thought and action. But education can also be conceived of as performance involving an unending quest [or truth. In this case, when one makes the transposition to a religious level, the goal is a search for the God who even after revelation in Jesus is still a mystery and to know whom is really to be yet groping even when one gropes with the aid of infallible direction. St. Paul offers a good example of this. In his Epistle to the Romans he spends three chapters (9-11) studying the will of God as concretely realized in the plan of salvation for Gentile and Jew. Interpreting the hist6ry of his own day as God's saving providence, he obviously presupposes that man can .know the divine will. And yet he concludes with a hymn proclaiming "that no one realiy knows the mind of the Lord. All subsequent Christian theology has been an at-tempt to grapple with the great mystery that God remains even after He reveals Himself to man. His ways are mysterious and yet sure, free and yet faithful. To em-phasize one over the Other leads to a lopsided theology. But why would one be inclined to do this? The reason is clear enough. There is a tendency to do so, one deriving from culture today especially. That culture is complex; it evokes diverse responses, some calculated to preserve the truth and goodness that have already been achieved and others aimed at improving both in the future. The result is cultural tension with theological consequences of the first order. When a question arises on a religious or doctrinal level, for those inclined to revere the past it is not a matter of being faithful pure and simple. There is a cultural fac-tor inclining them to their position. Others are more ready to strike out [or the new and unknown. Here it is the mystery of God and His dealings with man that will enthrall them. What has been said of Him in the past, even in infallible "utterances, is true enough but insuffi-cient. Their great law is: "Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me." They do not wish to worship idols rather than the true God; and it is no less idolatrous to worship one's image of God than it is to adore wood, or stone, or precious metals. Here again, however, the inclination is not purely religious; it is cultural. These are the men and women who in any event are more moved by a goal that is worthwhile and possible than by achievements that are already a fact but with clear defects. ,4pplication to Present Conditions It is in the realm of attitudes that one must look for evidence of culture or values held in esteem or disrepute. Our culture involves an ambivalence of attitudes with regard to the present in its relation to the future. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28° 1969 .!. ÷ Carl I. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Contemporary forms are generally considered inade-quate in the long run to meet humanity's needs of the near future. If one insists that this is not true in the religious sphere, youth is expected to assert that m6- rality and faith are somehow not part of the changing world. This is only too evidently false. It is also discourag-ing. If true, it would surely follow that from neither could man hope for much improvement. When the past is loved too much and present values, cherished too intensely, the inevitable result is that fewer and fewer young people will spend their lives ina performance directed to preserving it. This attitude has been wide-spread and is showing its effects. The cultural cry of more and more of the young is "On to the Future" by radical change of the present. Confronted with the evils man has injected into his world, they find an attractiveness in this value. That it conflicts with the former is obvious. That the result is confusion, tension, unease, unwillingness or inability to commit oneself fully to one or the other is not sur-prising. Neither value is directly religious. Each has religious implications and does sometimes presuppose a lessening or even loss of religious commitment. But to concentrate on this would be to try to cure a symptom. Our whole society knows it must change and change radically. And yet unless we learn from the past, from its successes as well as its failures, we shall grope with-out any guidelines or the slightest assurance that what we learn today will help tomorrow and not hinder, Man's leap forward came.from a spirit of adventure and a lack of willingness to be content with the status quo. This is true of man whether he professed a religion or not. Youth today knows it. They look for a willingness to take this risk in religion and its leaders. But they also realize that man's advance has been accompanied by a multiplication of evils in the form of wars, famine, and untold human suffering. It was paid for in the form of untold labor and often shortened life spans "of pioneers. Today many of them are asking whether progress at such a price and with such attendant evils is worth it after all. It is a question of values and attitudes. Not a few seem to choose neither content-ment with the past nor striving to improve the future, at least not by joining existing organizations to achieve this. In the sense of the two alternatives, they seem to be opting out as close to altogether as is possible. Among their eiders, those who cling to the past do so not wholly because of faith, and those who strive to ob-tain the improvement of the future surely are not so motivated solely because of basic religious conviction or its lack. It is in both cases a cultural response elicited by the world in which they live. To be cautious is a value; to be adventuresome no less so. Neither in itself is reli-gious. Those inclined to esteem the former expect it most of all in religion; those who prefer the latter look for it above all in the area of faith and faith-inspired life. There is a crisis all right, but one stemming fi:om a com-plex culture or set of opposing values, each of which has something to be said for it. How easy it would all be if it were otherwise. It would be a mistake to overlook this when considering the situation of young men and women choosing or living out a religious vocation. Maximum E~ciency versus Involvement There is another pair of values related to achievement. Is the latter the work of one or many? Some are loners and find it hard to be any other way. But today it is extremely difficult to stand alone in achievement. The individual source of inspiration, one overseer or director iqith the power to make decisions--this leads at times to unquestionably greater efficiency and permits the de-termination of responsible agents in various fields. For some this is still a most desirable good. Society needs the great man as leader; the Church, the truly independent bishop and pope. But for others worthwhile goals are achieved only in the close cooperation of many laboring in a basically similar frame of mind despite difficulties. This implies the initiative not only of the leader but of many cooperating and participating as fully as possible in the endeavor. Neither attitude is basically religious. This is again witnessed in the pedagogical order. Why do so many professors today have such trouble with classes when they employ the lecture system? The latter is surely not something religious or irreligious. Nor is it that professors lecture without the ability of their predecessors. And yet in ever increasing numbers, courses based solely on this method are being phased out be-cause they are not being heard or listened to. The teacher who simply lectures today has to be a lot better than one who did the same fifty years ago just to accomplish as much. The reason is simple. To such an approach there is opposition that is neither religious nor irreligious but rather cultural. It arises from the conviction that truth and other values are to be sought not solely or primarily through the energy of one man directing the receptivity of others but through the combined efforts of many. The planning of seminary curricula is taking note of this. So must the charting of course for a parish or diocese if they are to achieve their respective goals. To think that papal primacy, episcopal collegiality, or lay initiative will not be affected by this cultural factor is disastrous, especially in dealing with prospective vocations. If this ÷ ÷ ÷ Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ].9~9 Cad ]. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]94 is obviously hard for some to accept, it is important nonetheless. Achievements of the Paso Some men and women tend to concentrate on the good that has already been attained and are pleased with past efforts as well as optimistic about the state of the union, whatever union may be involved. Others view past achievements with guarded reserve or more often criti-cism, positive or negative. These are human attitudes not particularly connected with religion more than with politics or economics. But they do affect the way one re-gards formulations of Christian faith. Have the conciliar determinations helped or are they, though true, in their own way very limited? As regards present institutions, few adamantly deny they have accomplished some, indeed tremendous good. But what of the defects? They are pres-ent as well. Revelation does not direct attention to either exclusively. The way one evaluates other things will have a great deal of influence here. But that is clearly in the realm of rational attitudes more or less con-sciously adopted; namely, culture and not religion di-rectly as such. Analysis or Comprehensive View Is it the big picture or the details that are most im-portant? There is no divine law answering this. In terms of values, is it generality and simplicity in viewing a phenomenon as a whole or rather attention to its com-plexity that matters? Emphasis on the latter assures that whatever is said or decided today may well have to be modified tomorrow. Decisions taken may have to be reconsidered or retracted. Contrariwise one may aim at certain values that at least as goals do not change but are ever more closely approximated. The affective con-sequences of both approaches are clear enough. Com-mitments in the one frame of reference can hardly be irrevocable; in the other they can surely be so. On a practical religious level, are all decisions subject to re-call at will, for example, to the existence of a God, an after-life, the imperative of working to make life better [or others? Or are they simply the best one can give here and now? It is clear that conflicting cultural values have in this instance created tension in human life, not least of all in its religious sphere. Certainty and Conjecture To continue, is certainty a value above others, or is statistical probability all man can ~chieve in most in-stances? But certainty is popularly connected with hope.-- one does not hope unless convinced there is a good chance o~ getting or doing or being what is hoped for. And yet probability is likewise connected with hope; one does not hope for what is already a sure thing, somethingpr~deter-mined and open in no way to chance. To what does one aspire, the certain or the probable?. The Marxist experiences this. Should he hope for the classless society or not? If he does not because he feels that it is certain to come about, lethargy.will likely result. But if its appearance is not inevitable, his efforts alter all may be futile, all of which need not but may lead to despair. As to the Christian, must he hope that the divine kingdom come? If its advent cannot be frus-trated, what need to hope; if otherwise,, why hope when alter all sheer chance may reign supreme?. Antithetical Ideals I have tried to indicate certain human values in two connected sets. They deal with the practical, .the order o~ doing and achievement. Preservation of the past through the work of the leader who sees and inspires others to grasp the whole picture wi.th optimism c6upled with caution and deliberate pace regarding change--this is one set. And yet there is another in competition: the improvement o~ the future through the.cooperation o[ many in thought, action, and suffering, with attention to the manifold of details accompanied with criticism of past failures and a sense of urgency for future reme-dies. These interconnected values art both vying for man's acceptance at the present time. He has opted for neither. Confronted by them both, he is very often at a loss; now this and now that seems better. They affect the very depth of his being and yet are religious only in the sense of having to do with the meaning of life, a mean-ing he has to choose freely. Still his relations with or-ganized religion cannot but be affected by this tension, unrest, and hesitancy. Because religion is obviously con-nected with these values though by no means identical with them, he is probably as interested as at any time in his history with religion as an academic discipline but as disinclined as never before to see any religious organi-zation as offering a permanent way of life for himself. This has affected the attitude o~ many toward religious vocations in particular. In my opinion it justifies the proposition that the so-called vocation crisis is only indirectly a crisis of faith and directly one of culture. Religious Ministry in the Overlap More is called for today than detached analysis in this area. This is especially true in the case of those who are convinced that an increase in the number of religious vocations is o~ great importance for the Church and the 4- .4- 4- Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 195 rest of humanity. As a result it may not be out of place to offer a number of suggestions. They will deal with atti-tudes that can be fostered with the aim of encouraging priestly and religious vocations during the period of the cultural overlap. First of all, in both of the competing sets of values, practical certainty is present and operative. The certainty of conviction makes men cling to the past; it drives others to strive for the future. This is certainty at least strong enough to be the guiding rationale and emo-tional factor for living a whole li~e. Too much certainty with regard to the past was an error. A great price has been paid for it. Today, youth is actually afraid of being certain and yet often paralyzed because uncertain. The man who strives for change is doing so only because of a practical conviction that striving is important, worth-while, possible, and not futile. In this sense, certainty is no more missing in him than in' his counterpart. If this impression can be conveyed to youth, the certainty of basic truths of faith will be less repellent. Secondly, another value found in both sets is persever-ance. It is because of a deep-rooted conviction that does not change that the men of science change hypotheses. A religious conviction once thought over and adopted need not shut a man off Lrom the way other men adopt in living. It should not make him closed. Indeed he can be open precisely because he has made a fundamental decision. No one is more closed than he who has made no decision at all regarding the meaning of life. Fre-quently such a man's desire to be open precludes his doing anything of lasting significance. To be con-temporary is not to be a Hamlet. To be ever ready to learn more regarding life's meaning is not to be ready to change one's mind because of simple discouragement or the realization that difficulties will in all likelihood never be completely removed. The applicability of this lesson to the realm of priestly and religious vocations is obvious. It will not, however, be grasped unless one re-calls that these are matters not merely of faith and revela-tion but also of culture. Carl 1. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i JOSEPH E. MULLIGAN, s.J. The Religious Dimension of Human Love The current experimentation with various styles of religiou~ dress is certainly a welcome development in the post-conciliar Church. It is becoming clear to Cath-olics and non-Catholics alike that today's sister is very much a woman of the twentieth century, a woman con-secrated to God and united with Christ and at the very same time intensely concerned about the joys and problems, successes and failures of the present world. She is sensitive to the needs of modern men and women, open to new trends in human thought'(such as personal-ism and Christian existentialism)~ efficient in her use of modern means of serving humanity, and orientated to the near and distant future in her apostoli.c thinking. Au courant styles of religious dress do not insure that all this will be true of every sister who dons the new garb, but at the very least it can be said that the new fashions do not militate against the entirely proper "new image" now being created by today's sisters both young and old. Updated religious habits may even foster an interior aggiornamento where it is lacking or lagging; and where the Spirit has already begun to "renew the face of the earth" so that the love enkindled by Him can shine forth for all to see, the sister will welcome the external change as a true sign of the interior renewal which is under way. While the new fashions serve this purpose of bringing today's sister visibly into the twentieth century, they also serve to bring out the distinctly feminine quality of the Christian charity which fills her heart and inspires her life of service. This important point is receiving its due attention by psychologists, counselors, and theologians; here we need only mention the fact that the changes in the dress o[ religious women are closely associated with the emergence, in their own consciousness and in that of all the world, of their God-given and God-beloved ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Mulligan, &J., is a member of Bellarmine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 6O542. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Mulligan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 femininity. How important it is that the feminine, ma-ternal dimension of the love of God, whom we always address as Father and whom we almost always think of in masculine terms, be incarnated and effectively com-municated to the human family. In this connection we readily recognize (it is not a question of "admitting," as if grudgingly) the truth of a point suggested by a famous psychologist: that in Christian piety a tender devotion to Mary fulfills a profound need of the human heart and soul, namely, to relate to a heavenly Mother. It is true, of course, that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son manifest many of the qualities ordinarily associated with human mother-hood: tenderness, mercy, compassion, and above all, love which is given profusely without demanding a com-mensurate response. But it is Mary who, in the religious consciousness of the faithful, is the Mother par excellence, showering upon her children her maternal love and re-ceiving from them, often though not always, their love and trust in return. The religious woman has a position in the divine economy of salvation analogous to that of Mary. In the eminently feminine charity shown by the religious teacher, nurse, home missionary, and others, the human family can see and feel the maternal qualities of the boundless love of God for them. The sister can bring this love directly into the classroom, hospital, or home--and in this the sister can be more effective than Mary in com-municating the love of God to men. For Mary is present to her children only in times of prayer, and the experi-ence of her love requires faith; the sister can be present to the human family in all situations of life and in very concrete ways which are perfectly visible to "natural" eyes. Adaptations in dress, then, are worthwhile and valu-able in at least these two important respects: in placing sisters visibly in the midst of the twentieth century and in accentuating the distinctly feminine characteristics of their love and service to mankind. In most instances the adaptation of which we are speaking has taken the form of a reduction or lightening of the habit to the extent that some sisters have only a 'veil of some sort (or even less) as the external symbol of 'their consecration to God and their special union with Christ. This trend is entirely praiseworthy, as we have stated above. How-ever, the question soon arises about the necessity of re-taining any distinctive signs. Should. the nursing sister simply wear the same uni-form as that of her colleagues in the profession? Should the teaching sister wear a variety of styles readily oh, tainable at the downtown department store? Should the i home missionary don a smart and comfortable business woman's suit? In the opinion of this male observer, the answer is a qualified "no." This is undoubtedly the opin-ion of the vast majority of sisters: there is deep value in the external symbols of one's religious profession. Pre-cisely what forms these symbols should take in order that they be appropriate for our modern age'is a matter which will have to be handled largely through experi-mentation; developments to date have been in the right direction, but certainly not definitive (perhaps we should expect and accept constant adaptation in this matter, as in the liturgy). Though all agree on the necessity of retaining symbols, be they ever so "modernized," it may prove worthwhile to review one of the most substantial reasons for our insistence upon retaining externals of some sort. To this writer, one of the most cogent "arguments" for the existence and activity of God is the astounding love which breaks out (who can say how often?) in this world of ours. This love can be "astounding" even if it be only a kind word at the right time, a friendly "hello" offered in passing, or a thoughtful gesture only slightly out of the ordinary. The more dramatic or "heroic" act of love--such as the total personal commitment of marriage or of the religious life--is all the more revela-tory of the power of God operative in the hearts of men. Experience teaches us that there is something wonder-ful in a person who has risen above the childish and petty egocentrism which in various forms infects hu-manity. And in divine revelation we have a clear state-ment of the truth to which experience opens us: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Though this writer finds this train of thought most interesting and helpful, many in our modern world find it something less than immediately exciting. The con-nection between human love at its best and the power of God very often goes unnoticed. Deep, strong love (in many cases of a calibre worthy of imitation by many a nominal Christian) abounds in the heart and soul of a great number of men who consider themselves "atheists" or "agnostics" or "secular humanists" but who probably qualify as "anonymous Christians." We have good reasons as well as strong inclinations to consider these noble hu-man persons as brothers of Christ and sons of God, heirs of the same eternal life which we Christians hope to at-tain (see Mt 95:31--45). The modern man who is truly Christlike in his charity is surely a brother of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is indeed the Spirit of Love. Such a person need only be brought to an explicit awareness of his true position before God. Whether this Human Love VOLUME 28, 1969 199 J. E. Mulligan, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O0 exp1icitation is absolutely necessary for salvation, is a theological question which we cannot take up here; that it is.desirable and beneficial for the person, that it is the will of God, and that it is the proper task of the mission-ary Church cannot be doubted. How then is the connection between great human love and the power of God to be drawn clearly in the minds of men? How will men of good will come to real-ize their true religious identity? Surely this wonderful moment of recognition can follow immediately upon a strong experience of being loved with a love surpassing the powers of our wounded human nature. Who can know the unsearchable ways of God, the ways in which He can make His presence known in the hearts of men? What we can know, however, is that God has estab-lished in His Church certain "ordinary" ways by which men should be able to see the connection of which we are speaking, that is, the religious context of all genuine human love. The liturgy, for instance, consists basically of ritual acts of human love, no less authentic for being ritual, set in an abundantly sacred context; the religious life as a visible institution is meant also to be a sign Of the intimate link between love and Love. The woman who loves her neighbor with a striking love and who clearly derives the sustenance for this extraordinary love from her union with God stands as a powerful sign of the connection with which we are concerned. The religious proclaims to the world that love, and especially continuing growth in love, depends upon our cooperation with the Spirit of Love whom Jesus Christ pours forth upon humanity, thereby accom-plishing the work of redemption. If this proclamation is to be effective, however, two elements must be safe-guarded and nurtured: the fraternal love must be sincere and genuine, or else it will strike no one and will fail to touch off the wonder which points to God; secondly, the person showing this genuine love must also show some clear sign of her relationship with God, or else her love will be viewed as nothing more than the highest flowering o[ the human spirit. A true combination of both these elements can be nothing short of overwhelming. The student will be deeply struck one day, perhaps far in the future, by the inestimable service given him by the sister in the seventh grade; and he will ask him-self whether her union with God, somehow manifest, might have had anything to do with her capacity to love so generously and so constantly. The patient in the hospital will find kindness and competent care in the person of the nursing sister at a time when he is most in need of these precious gifts; he will undoubtedly find himself wondering whether her slightly distinctive uni- form may signify a Power greater than herself gently assisting her human heart. The family in Appalachia or in one of our big city ghettoes, olSpressed and exploited by an unconcerned affluent society, will be touched by the "no strings attached" help given by the visiting sister; the family will see that this remarkable woman is in love with both God and them at the same time, as if the one love is identical with the other. This, then, is one reason (to this writer the most im-portant and most meaningful) for retaining some form of distinctive religious dress. By all means, let sisters continue to experiment with new styles in an attempt to find more appropriate twentieth century symbols of religious profession. Also, let sisters continue to try on new and appropriate fashions which will not bushel-basket that femininity which is absolutely essential for incarnating the love of God in all its breadth and beauty. However, for the reason which we have suggested in the latter part of this article and for other reasons which may be equally cogent, let us not throw out the baby (appropriate and necessary symbolism) with the bath (outmoded and "sexuality neutralizing" costumes). The religious must be in tune with the times, di.stinctly masculine or feminine, a living proof of the connection between true human love and the Spirit of Love. 4, VOLUME.28, 1969 201 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Biblical Concept of Virginal Love Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at Russell College; 2300 Adeline Drive; Burlingame, Cali-fornia 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Half an eye trained on recent ,religious thin.king in-forms one that a great deal of literature has appeared in the last decade on the psychology of loving in the Chris: tian context. For the most part this has been a praise-worthy effort to broaden the place and sharpen the orientation of human love within the ecclesial commu-nity; yet one still frequently finds considerable diver-gence of view among, religious men and women as to how the generally agreed upon norms are to be prac-ticed in concrete situations. We wish in this essay not simply to tread over worn terrain but to suggest some specifics, specifics stemming from Scripture and virgin-ity. We primarily envision religious women, although with some modifications what we say concerns men as well. Philosophical Roots Even though our main intent is Biblical and practical, we may preface our discussion with several philosophical considerations. In the long run practical solutions to knotty problems are no better than their (often merely assumed and unexpressed) theoretical substructure. At the same time speculation must always be in touch with experience, with concrete, here and now reality. Because she is a person, a human person, a feminine human person, the sister must love warmly. Her love must appear, be visible. Why? Because virginal love is incarnated, not angelic. It is human and a witness to humans. For a reason we shall point out later this is to say that it is affectionate. But because we are at the moment dealing with philosophy, not theology, we may leave the witness aside. Virginal love is incarnated and therefore affectionate because it is human love--steeped in supernatural moti-vation, of course, but still human. In fact, it cannot be anything else but' human. No being can act otherwise than as it is. We never expect a duck to perform as a camel. A woman can love only as a woman, a human being ot the feminine sex. Now human nature is in-carnated spirit, a dual reality, material-spiritual. Man is not monistic. Merleau-Ponty's negation ot a fundamental dualism in man is an oversimplification of human exist-ence. Man is not merely a body-subject, an I-body. The profound dualism in his sense-intellect knowing, to cite one example, is an irreducible pluralism that renders a human monism an inadequate explanation of available evidence. Human love, therefore, must also be dual,, it it is to be tully human and not something else. Like its source, the person, man's love must be rooted in spirit but shown through matter, conceived in soul but en-fleshed in body. Affectionate love is simply love incar-nated. It is a love that appears. One need not syllogize to its existence. As a daughter of Eve the religious woman does not loveproperly and fully until she loves affectionately. She is no exception to the roots of reality, no metaphysical oddity. She loves as she is. There is yet another reason why the virgin's love for 1hen is warm, composite, incarnated. It is a reason rooted in the deepest center of her being. She is good, a person good, and goodness tends to pour itself out. She is a social good, so she must pour herself out into others and receive these others back into herself. A woman (and a man, too, but not quite so pronouncedly) is never satis-fied until she loves. She cannot be satisfied unless she loves, for until she loves incarnatedly she is violating a law of being: goodness goes out; person goodness loves persons and shows it. This ontological factor works in the opposite direction as well. Because she is good and beautiful, the sister re-quires that her goodness and beauty be acknowledged, recognized in a way she can see and experience. To say this psychologically, she needs a strong self image, a self image she can derive only from others, from their appreciation and shown love. This is to say once again that deeply rooted in her human make-up is a need to receive affection. What we are implying, then, is that the religious woman's consecration does not exempt her from the laws of human nature or from the metaphysical structure ot the real. Scriptural Roots But still more must be said. There are supernatural reasons as well as natural ones tot saying that religious are to love warmly. Christian love is human love. It must therefore be affectionate. Shakespeare was pointing in the right direction when he observed that "they do Yirginal Love VOLUME ~'8, 1969 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 not love that do not show their love." x Christ himself was affectionate. He embraced children for no other verifiable reason than to love warmly and to show it. He "looked with love" on the rich young man, which is nothing other than to gaze affectionately. He wept at Lazarus' tomb, a remarkable display of feeling in a man. He who could fearlessly castigate the Pharisees could also correct Martha tenderly by repeating her name twice as a preface to his admonition. The letters of Paul, Peter, and John are replete with expressions of endearment and concern. Where could these originally rough men have learned this Christian way of loving if not from Christ? The Master had already made it clear that a Christian ¯ can be detected in the world by his observable love. Men are to see how we love, be struck by it, and con-clude from this sight who we are.2 Affectionate love can be seen. Cold or neutral love may not be noticed even when it is proved by deed., witness the merely efficient nurse. In any event merely willed love does not draw men as the Christian is to draw them. If the reli-gious is a gospel woman, she is an affectionate woman. She may be nothing else. Practical Implications So much for basic principles. They are plain, hardly subject to hot dispute. Not so, however, with concrete situations, problems, objections. Even a casual acquaint-ance with convent life makes clear that the whole area of close love relationships has been, and still often enough remains, subject to misunderstanding, to excess, to de-fect. One underestimates the complexities and depths of human nature if he believes that in this matter ~pecifics are as easy to handle as generalities. Because we think we recognize the difficulties inherent in our subject, our intent here is modest. We wish to propose some real questions and to suggest, for whatever value they may have, some honest answers. - How does a consecrated woman show a warm love in a manner appropriate to her state? Our first reaction to this question is to note that ordinarily a woman is a better judge of feminine warmth than a man is. And if she happens to be at the same time a holy woman, she knows by a kind of instinct how to love rightly. Yet a man may presume to suggest a few guides. Obviously enough, marks of affection vary greatly with the situa-tion of the recipient. A sister rightly embraces a first-grade boy who has fallen down the staircase, but she is The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 1, Scene 2. Jn 13:M-5. likely to show her concern in another manner toward a twelfth-grader beset with a teenage problem. The New Testament offers many examples of what a holy, adult affection is like. There is the cordial, warm greeting,8 the holy kiss,4 the affectionate embrace,~ the loving gaze,n a warmth of manner in speech,r a kindly gentleness in the face of a brother's faults,s a tenderness and love in correcting others,9 a deep interest in the in-dividual and his concerns,1° an openness to all,ix a com-forting of those in trial and sorrowA~ Peter sums it all up in saying that our love is to be sincere and intense.~3 A prayerful study of these texts and many others like them will disclose to mogt of us that we have a long way to go before we love as Christians are supposed to love. Because the virgin is a model of evangelical life, she may not be anything but affectionate. The program of how this is to be done is plain enough in the Gosp.els and Epistles. She will find its implementation a lifetime task. She ma~ find it helpful to, work at this task in her par-ticular examen, taking as her specific guides one Scrip-tural theme or text at a time. Doing this she cannot help becoming a lovable woman. Is there not danger to chastity in this warm love? Yes, of course, there is danger, just as there is danger in the pursuance of any good, even the spiritual goods of the intellect. But one may not always solve "excess prob-lems" by removing the possibility of excess through a radical uprooting of the good. When the Master re-flected on the risk of worldliness in His apostles, He did not meet the problem by shutting off the possibility. Rather He explicity declared that they were to remain in the dangerous situation, in the world, but were to be kept free from being tainted by it.14 It is interesting, too, ~hat nowhere (as far as we can find) does the New Testa-ment indicate a concern about the dangers found in a holy affection. Perhaps the reason is that the genuine SRom 1:7; 16:3-16; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:21-3; Col 4:7-18. ~Lk 15:20; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Th 5:26; I Pt 4:14. ~ Mk 10:16; Acts 20:37-8. ~ Mk 10:21. ~Rom I:11; 1 Cor 4:17; 15:58; 16:24; 2 Cor 7:~,I~; 10:I; Phil 1:7-8; 4:1; 1 Th 2:7-8,20; ~:1-7; 1 Tm 1:2; 1 Jn 2:1,7,12,14,18,28; ~ Jn 1,5,11; Jude ~,20. s Eph 4:2,~2; 2 Tim 2:24-5; 1 Pt 3:8-9. ~ Lk 10:41; 1 Cor 4:14; 2 Cor 2:4-8; Gal 6:1; Col ~:12-~. xo 1 Cor 12:26; 2 Cor 12:14-5; Phil 2:17-8; 1 Th 2:11. ~x 2 Cor 6:11-3. ~2 Cor 1:3-4; 7:6-7; 1~:11; £ph 6:22; Col 2:1-2; 1 Th 5:11; 2 Tim 1:16; Phlm 20. xs I Pt 1:22. :~Jn 17:14-7: "They are not oI the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou take them out of the world, but that thou keep them ~rom evil." ¥irglnal Love VOLUME 28, 1969 205 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 man of God and the holy virgin know plainly enough-- because their honesty bares the deceitful motive--why really they are affectionate and how their love is ap-propriately shown. Warm affection is risky for the fool-ish virgin, the worldly virgin, but not for the wise and prayerful one. On the contrary, for the latter this kind of sisterly love protects and fosters her dedicated chastity: "Everyone should remember--superiors especially--that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members." ~g If a sister is a woman of deep contemplative prayer, we need have little fear that her warm love for others will pose any proximate danger to her purity or to theirs. If she is not a prayerful woman, the opposite may well be the case. May a sister [oster a close [riendship with a priest or layman? At the outset of this article we already im-plied our affirmative reaction to this question. The ex-ample of Christ's love for Martha and Mary and that of the saints for persons of the opposite sex (for example, Teresa and Gratian, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal) demand this affirmative response. And so does com-mon sense. Sexual love neither is co-terminous with geni-tal- sexual love nor requires it. The sexes are comple-mentary not only on the physical level but also on the emotional, intellectual, volitional, and supernatural lev-els. an The fact that the consecrated woman benefits from masculine influences (such as teaching, spiritual direc-tion) in her formation (and do not men profit £rom feminine influences in theirs?) suggests that she may grow as a religious woman through friendship with a man. Now all of this is being said with increasing frequency both in print and in private conference. But something else has also to be said. And it is rarely said. That this kind of close friendship be advisable demands conditions and qualifications. Not any apparently good male-female relationship may be said to correspond to that of Teresa and Gratian or Francis and Jane. We have already in-dicated what some of these qualifications are. Most of us would agree that a sister should show a sincere warmth toward all men and women, but we are not agreed as to what overdemonstrativeness may be. For our part we cannot share the view that embracing is a suitable sign of affection between religious persons of the opposite sexes. The current multiplication of tragedy that scan-dalizes the faithful and ruins consecrated lives plainly ~ Vatican II, Decree on Religious LiIe, n. 12. ~ See Chapter 3 of von Hildebrand's Man and Woman for a help-ful explanation of this complementarity. shows how naive this view really is. Some people learn only by personal disaster that they are like the rest of men. A propensity toward physical demonstrativeness suggests strongly that the friendship is not on the high-est supernatural level, that it is not thoroughly immersed in God, in a mutually deep prayer life. Unreasonably frequent or protracted conversations and deliberate ro-mantic daydreaming likewise cause one to wonder whether there is question of the love of the Holy Spirit. The virgin is concerned with the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit and that she may .pray without distraction. In our view that priest or sister ~s naive who feels that long and frequent visits, kissing and embracing are conductive to the love of the Chris-tian virgin. If this is what "the third way" means, there is no third way. Even aside from the obvious.question of chastity, one may wonder regarding this type of relation-ship how intently the religious can be concerned with the things of the Lord, how deeply she can be committed to her life of contemplation and apostolic action. From the positive point of view a sister may rest as-sured that her love is fully virginal if the thought of the other suggests to her mind the thought of God; if the relationship really helps her to a deeper prayer life, a perfect observance of her rule, an evangelical spirit of detachment, a more profound loyalty to her own vir-ginal vocation and to the members of her own commu-nity, a ~niversal warmth toward others; if their con-versation or correspondence is concerned mainly with God and His affairs. If these norms for virginal love are correct, one may speculate that this sort of friendship is not at all as common as may be supposed. Is affectionate love compatible with the detachment demanded by the New Testament? Twenty years ago many of us would have returned an unhesitatingly nega; tive answer to this question or we would have at least felt inclined to such an answer. Today we more easily understand that warm love and evangelical detachment are reconcilable, although not too many are able to bar. monize new psychology with old spirituality. The prob-lem here, of course, is not a clash between oldness and newness but between sound psychology and twisted spir-ituality. Both affectionate love and gospel austerity are as valid today as they ever were, for the New Testament plainly teaches both of them over and over again. The simplistic mind is uncomfortable with complex dualities and it seeks to resolve a paradox by denying one pole of it. Two decades ago it was common to deny that warmly shown love was proper in a religious, while today it is popular to say that detachment is passd. Yet the New Testament teaches both the .one and the ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal VOLUME 28~ 1969' " ÷ ÷ Thomas l~bay REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS 208 other. It is the same Christ who demands that we re-nounce all things (Lk 14:33) and who embraces children warmly (Mk 10:16). The same John teaches that we must die like grain buried in the ground (Jn 12:24-5) and yet deals with the recipient~ of his first letter with remark-able terms of endearment (1 Jn 2, passim). The first letter of Peter warns against "selfish passions" (1 Pt 2:11), encourages a joy in sufferings (4:12-3) and at the same time urges intense brotherly love shown with a "kiss of love" (1:22; 5:14). The same Paul who cautions against superfluities and himself has nothing (1 Tim 6:7-8; 2 Cor 6:10) also loves his Christians with the warmth and tenderness of a deeply affectionate father (passim). Nowhere in the new revelation do we read the least hint of a clash. Why? Simply because affectionate love is by no means the same as selfish love. On the contrary, it is often a crucifying love. Showing affection to an attractive person is a delight, to a dull or cold individual it is a thorn. Moreover--and this is important and not always under-stood-- we should not see a dichotomy between loving God wholly and our neighbor warmly. Even less should we suppose an opposition. Precisely because Christian love is both one and incarnated but with several objects (God, ourselves, angels, neighbor), it must be warmly shown. This is why St. Paul looked upon the Romans as "God's beloved" (1:7). Because they were God's dear ones, they necessarily became Paul's dear ones in a virile yet intimate sense. Unshown love is a partial self-contradiction. We find this same warm affection in the most austere and detached of God's saints, for they knew what affectionate love and genuine detachment really mean. They did not live by caricature. One need only read the correspondence of an Augustine, a John Chrys-ostom, a Teresa of Avila, a Francis de Sales to see what we mean, Even John of the Cross (andwho could be remotely tempted to conceive him as lacking in detach-ment?), a man short on words but long on deeds, is said to have walked 30 or 40 miles barefooted to visit his warmly loved nuns at Beas. What we are saying, of course, is by no means opposed to the traditional detach-ment doctrine of these same saints. There is a certain in-tellectual snobbery implied in the suggestion one hears today that the goodness and value of love between the sexes, even between religious, is quite a new discovery unknown to our elders in the faith. And there is no little theological inadequacy implied in thinking that this kind of love somehow rules out an integral evangel-ical asceticism. How does One become affectionate? This apparently naive question is really a worthwhile question, one that is susceptible of several interpretations: How does a sister acquire a warm manner toward unattractive personali-ties? How does one love affectionately who feels no warmth toward anyone? How does a person deepen a warm manner she already possesses to some extent, yet not sufficiently? We shall take up each problem in turn. First, how can a sister who does love some people warmly acquire a warmth toward others whom she finds unappealing? If a woman (or man) can love some per-sons warmly and deeply, her problem is motivational, not psychological, when she is cold toward others. Ba-sically she is capable of full human love, since as a matter of fact she does love humanly the few people that appeal to her. But she does not see that the others are also lova-ble and so she is not at all inclined to go out toward them. She needs to develop a largeness of heart, an op-timism of viewpoint that searches out beauty and good-ness, the largeness and optimism of St, Paul who saw enough beauty and goodness in his new (but far from perfect) Christians that he could view them as "God's beloved." If God loves a man, that man must somehow be lovable. It is our task to find out how. The warmth is then easier to come by. Yet it is not come. by without a concomitant spirit of sacrifice. If affection is to be shown toall men and not only to a select few,~the cross of self-denial must indeed be taken up daily. Otherwise we can-not be disciples, if the mark of a disciple is a love men can see and experience. A more perplexing problem (for the person who ex-periences it) is a total lack of affectionate feeling toward others. The problem is not only perplexing; it is likely to be both deep and of long standing. Its roots go back in most cases to an early home life in which little warm love was shown. Though the adult devoid of affection-ate feelings may say she needs neither manifestations of love from others nor her own showing of it to them, she is nevertheless a psychologically starved person. She may not understand what has happened to her, but she has built walls about her person. She is encapsuled. She is dying a death. She is in a state of psychological famine, dying of lovelessness. What can be done for this person who does not know how to love humanly and in a feminine manner? She may need professional therapy. She surely" needs a friend, a close friend. She needs understanding and ac-ceptance. She needs to learn that she is worthwhile, lovable. When she is accepted, understood, loved suffi-ciently, she will slowly become capable of returning love, of warming up to others. But the process is slow. All concerned with her problem need patience, herself included. + + + VOLUME 28, 1969 209 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 We may pause here to insist that the deeply felt need (even in a sister) to love and to be loved is no imperfec-tion. On the contrary, the deeper the need, the nobler the woman. It is the person who feels no need that is ill, for she is affectionately numb. On the physical level loss of appetite indicates illness, while hunger points to health and the consumption of vital energy. So also a hunger for love, real love, points toward psychological well-being, for deeply hidden in the recesses of the hu-man person is .the ontological clamor that goodness and beauty be recognized by another's love. Our final question: how does a religious who can and does love warmly develop and deepen her capacity for virginal affection? She must be herself, of course. She must grow normally as a woman with all the inner richness this implies. Genuine love is rooted. It cannot grow from the surface, from an inner vacuum. From the point of view of how this love is to be manifested the sister learns how a Christian virgin loves warmly by ob-serving those among her companions who do know how. Yet affection is not as easily taught as table manners. There is a universality about its signs, but there is also the uniquencess of the individual, and what is more unique than personal love? Still, a sister should be able to learn from the more finely developed among her companions how the consecrated woman shows her love for men. She learns, too, from her inborn reactions toward the opposite sex. Probably one reason why God made the sexes mutually attractive is that men and women learn from mutual relations how to show concern, warmth, cordiality toward members of their own sex. A normal, woman finds that affability toward men comes more naturally and easily than toward women. (And this is surely true also in the case of the man toward women.) Even though she does not show marks of love toward other women in exactly the same ways as toward men, she should learn much from the latter expe.riences, stemming as they do from her inborn feminine inclina-tion. Heterosexual love (which is not, of course, co-ter-ruinous with genital-sexual love), we may then say, is a partial model of human love in general. It is therefore a model for the virgin also, for she remains a sexual being with all the qualities and beauties this implies. The sister further develops her affectionate manner by a careful and prayerful contemplation of the gospel. After she has diligently studied her Christ embracing children for no other reason but to show warmth in His love, "looking with love" (a mysterious phrase) on a rich youth, correcting Martha in so gentle and tender a man-ner, weeping at Lazarus' tomb, she turns for further guidance to John, Peter, and especially to Paul. The letters of these virile (and before their conversion, crude) men are replete with examples of how to show affection in an adult manner. As an evangelical woman the sister should be filled with their spirit and practice. The final source from which the religious learns to love warmly: contemplation, deep contemplation, es-pecially infused contemplation. It is no accident that St. Paul reminds his Thessalonians that they "have learned from God to love one another" (1 Th 4:9). There is no better teacher of warmth and tenderness than He who could utter the divine verse recorded by Luke: "While he [a sinner] was still a long way off, his hther saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly" (Jerusalem Bible). One cannot get more affectionate than this. In the profound center of her own being where Love is more present to her womanly heart than she herself is the sister can find out how to be a loving woman. Though her indwelling Beloved teaches without words, He pours out from her deepest center the very love by Which she loves Him and others. Through the tenderness of His inner infusions she tastes and sees how good He is. She learns from experience that those who seek the Lord want for no good thing. Her good is to take refuge in the Lord she bears in her bosom and from Him she discovers what tenderness is like. So true is it that the contemplative learns from her inabiding Beloved how to be a lover herself, that we would suspect as inauthentic any alleged contemplation that is not accompanied by a warm love for others, or, at the very least, by a sincere, persevering effort in that direction. Contemplation cannot be walled in, aseptic, sterile. By its own inner dynamism, a vertical and horizontal en. ergy, it must burst out into love for men. Together with the instruction of Sacred Scripture and the love flowing out of the sacraments contemplation is the source of deep human love. All of which is to say that the sister must be a Scriptural woman, an ecclesia1 woman, a contemplative woman, if she is going to be a profoundly loving woman. 4. 4. VOLUME 28, 1969 PLACID STROIK, O.F.M. Sanctification and Conquest in the World With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land that we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own (JFK's Inaugural Address, January 1961). Once active faith in God's presence in the world takes hold of a man it begins to give direction to his actions. Not only does God's work really become his own, but also his work becomes the work of God. It is also a fact of experience that as things are it is impossible [or God to Work in this world without us. Very often we speak of God's great gifts to us "and all His marvelous works for us. At the same time we fail to realize the vast interplay and amount of work God has put into our hands to bring these gifts and works to their full development. Just as it is theologically incor-rect and misleading to expect salvation and sanctifica-tion through purely human effort, so also it is misleading to expect salvation even as a gift to come to us without. our effort of respgnse and acceptanc.e of this gift. It is much worse and also very unchristian to think that our faith with its heavy stress on another world and on be-coming holy has somehow absolved us from effort in building this world. ÷ Reconciling Upward and Forward ElYorts Pladd Stroik, O.F.M., is a mem-ber o[ the Francis. can Friars; Pulaski, Wisconsin 54162., ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 212 Historically it has always been a problem for followers of Christ to somehow bring together the vertical upward effort of sanctification and the horizontal forward effort of human progress and the conquest of the world. Over and over again the questions have been asked: Are they in opposition to each other? Is one just an acciden-tal backdrop to the other? Is there any inner connection between the two? In our present day these questions are extremely fundamental and are at the basis for much of the rethinking and turmoil going on in our religious doctrines and practices. Theologians as well as scientists are fast becoming aware of man's ability in the conquest of nature, the wor!d, and human life itself. This is beginning to put traditional religious ideas out of business. At one time, God, faith, the supernatural, and grace explained a lot of what happens around us. But now, man seems to get more answers and assurance out of things like space exploration, industrial and technical development, and human relations skills. As men put more and more ef-fort into understanding and controlling the universe we touch, see, and hear everyday, there is the conclusion developing that religious ideals and ideas no longer have a place in human life. The simple reasser.tion that God is alive and that He is important is not as convincing nor attractive as a heart transplant or a flight to the moon. That simply will not do. What is needed is a fresh outlook toward the way in which the process of becoming holy is somehow harmoniously interwoven with the human effort exerted in the direction of un-derstanding, building up, and controlling this universe. Such a fresh outlook will demand that we first of all get rid of all our false notions: about God and the world being in opposition to each other; about the supernatural being the best and the natural something that is second best or a mere accidental prelude to the supernatural; about the "afterlife" .being the sole im-portant thing and "nowlife" being a burdensome punish-ment. For many of us this also means trying to under-stand the correct way in which this present earthly life is a preparation for an open direct life with God. It means realizing that the universe is not some accidental stage play wherein what we do or what we build is meaningless unless we did it with a good intention and for the glory of God. What is required is the under-standing that the final coming of. Christ, just as His first coming, is conditioned by the development of man-kind. Because the full glory of Christ is intimately hound up with mankind it is also dependent upon the development of mankind. While the establishment of the new heavens and new earth spoken of in the Apoca-lypse is something Christ alone can bring about, it does not mean that they will appear out of the clear blue sky. Rather the unification that is evidently taking place among mankind seems to warrant the idea that until this unification is complete the entrance of the new heaven and new earth will not take place. The unification of mankind is not some kind of arbi-trary arrangement of individuals. It is in a very deep sense'th+ union brought about by the power and force of ÷ ÷ Conquest in World VOLUME 28, 1969 PlacidSOtt.Foi.lM~., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS love which is everywhere at work in the world. It is the same power which was at work on the first day of creation and is at work in the technological develop-ment of the world. It operates also in the specifically sanctifying deeds of the Incarnation, redemption, and their extensions, the sacraments. It is here that we can see the close connection between sanctification and de-velopment of the world. They are two efforts working in the same direction--the unification ~of mankind. Sanctification without the development of the world is unthinkable, just as development of the world without the painful redemptive efforts displayed and symbolized on the cross is an impossibility. The development of the world could not take place unless the effort to get rid of evil and disorganization were made as.well as the effort to see that truth, goodness, and beauty triumph. Sanctification must involve human endeavor and the op-eration of those powers which make a person to be a person, namely, his will, intelligence, and consciousness. As men use these powers in building up the world they are likewise working at their own unification. In this way the upward movement of becoming holy like God takes place while the forward movement of develop-ment of the universe is also taking place. The work of God and the work of man are constantly interchanging. We are not only becoming like God thru our work, but our work is more and more revealing God to us. Far from being in opposition, God's work of sanctification and man's work of building the universe are seen as two sides of the same coin or two paths to the same goal and destination. The sacred and the secular are closer to each other than we realize. Sanctification and Unification of the World It seems to be an unavoidable conclusion based pri-marily on man's experience .that the universe has been in a dynamic process of development and that the develop-ment is still going on. Looked at in its broadest sense, this development is best described as fulfilling the incompleteness of the creature and bringing organiza-tion and harmony to the disorder, failure, and disunity found at every level of created .being. Another way of looking at this is to think in terms of.°getting rid.of the evil, both moral and physical, that accounts for mechanical failures as well as the failures of the human will to choose the good. On this level we can see sanctification and unification working on the same broad principle. Sanctification is directed to furthering the God-centered harmonious functioning of man's powers of intellect, will, and consciousness, while unifi-cation is directed to an increasing organization of .the physical elements of the universe. In both the moral and physical sphere, mankind has had to wait for the proper time and the proper understanding of how these parts can better function together. Between the two processes of sanctification and,unifi-cation there is an exchange and an interdependence. For one thing, the harmonious functioning of man on the moral and spiritual level is obviously tied to a proper development of the physical well-being of the body. It does not guarantee good order on the moral level, but it is a condition. Health and wealth at a certain level are indispensable. We all know and experience that forced poverty has a way of crippling man's judgement of right and wrong, his sense of justice, and his esteem for his neighbor's welfare. Further, we should consider how the spread of the gospel, the development of moral value systems, and the knowledge of the sacramental means of sanctification are all dependent upon the proper use of mass communi-cations and upon a proper understanding of human re-lations and the difl~erent cultural values of a given group. On the other hand, sanctification and specifically Christian holiness and man's moral value systems as they develop and improve do assert a controlling effect on the direction and expression of physical evolution and technological advancement. For a very common ex-ample we can take the peaceful uses of nuclear energy which the moral values of nations are bringing about. Endeavor and Endurance for the Christian Today Because of the close interplay between the develop-ment of the .world and man's union with God, any religious ethic that separates the two is doomed not only to be unattractive but eventually will be proved to be erroneous. A legal morality of do's and don't's must give way to a dynamic morality of conquest. The pro-gram for a Christian today must be one that envisions union with God in and thru the world. In attaining this union, it is fundamental for Chris-tians to accept and understand that the universe by God's plan has been locked dead center on Christ. The world as we know it is headed toward Christ as its center and fullness. Every development both of material growth and spiritual growth is aimed at building up a new heaven and new earth, centered in Christ. In this conquest, the Christian consciously and all men by their very existence are called to collaborate enthusiastically, knowing that by their fidelity and obedience and also thru the work they have accomplished, they are com-pleting this universe. Each person must sincerely work at development. His + + ÷ Conquest in the World VOLUME 28, 1969 O~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS own personal development and the conquest of the world are to be done not simply to keep oneself busy and out of trouble but because this effort is vital to the building up of the universe. All effort that promotes and directly increases the general consciousness of mankind is the best effort. The highest moral principles guiding hu-man action are not those which protect and safeguard man's rights and duties, but those Which promote the best development of the person, society, and the world. In other words, those things which are in the direction of growth of the spirit of man are good, and what is best is that what assures the highest development of the spiritual powers of the earth. If our action furthers the unification and development of the world and the peo-ple in it, it is a good action. The question comes up as to how we can determine if our action furthers growth. Basically our general goal is to increase personal responsibility, freedom, and hu-man consciousness. This is not an easy order, and that is "why emphasis must be placed on the three charac-teristics of human endeavor that will allow for the de-velopment of human consciousness and personal re-sponsibility: Purity, charity, and self-denial are three basic strengths which provide for the necessary growth. When speaking of purity it is important to under-stand it in a dynamic sense, not in any passive restrictive sense. Purity is that power which seeks to organize all our personal energies along the lines of personal whole-ness and integrity--getting rid of those elements in us which tend to pull our forces in a thousand disorganized directions. In unifying the powers of man, purity brings about a conquest and achievement which frees the person for an ever greater expression of the power of love. Purity seeks the unification of the person, while charity is directed to the unification of persons among themselves. For many of us love or charity is simply a command to avoid hurting our neighbor or overstep-ping his rights. This is a rather narrow, negative view of charity. It fails to take in the dynamic element of active furthering of the growth of our neighbor and of the whole universe. Love as energy in its widest sense is the power which draws all things together. It has a synthesizing effect. Love when it takes on the form of Christian charity is all the more powerful because it is the effort of unification, but now in Christ and thru Christ. Charity inspired by Christ is charity which moves and advances mankind and the whole universe toward Him. In the final analysis, love is not only positive and dynamic, but universal and totally directed to building up the world into a unity in Christ. For the Christian who is sincerely interested in the true progress and development of the world, the mes-sage of the cross in terms of self-denial, detachment, and renunciation is as important as seeing a computer operate an assembly line and a turbine generator light a city. He knows and experiences the detachment that must go into an enthusiastic collaboration with the whole human effort in furthering the growth of the world toward the fullness of Christ. In accomplishing any ideal, the difficult labor involved is necessarily a victory over selfishness and egotistical laziness. This detachment thru .action on the material of life is a continuation of and is patterned on the method ex-pressed in the Incarnation--immersion and insertion into the world so as to transform and lead the world to God. But experience shows us that the most radical trans-formation of people and things takes place not thru a simple laborious effort to create and produce but thru the endurance of evils and failures, stresses and painful strains including that of death. A world that is still in the process of development must of necessity have fail-ures and faults for the simple reason that it is not com-plete. Thru the plan of God and man's cooperation, the failures can be brought to serve a higher purpose. Even the impurity in a stone can be made to add beauty and tone to the final product. A moral defect thru the trans-formation of repentance can be the occasion of a greater good. All of the suffering involved in the endurance of evil and that of death has for its final aim the union of man with God in and thru Christ. Such union cannot take place without a going out of oneself. Union revolves around love and love means giving oneself to the one loved. Death in our world is the process by which the final and complete union with God is accomplished. It is the decentering of our self and centering on God. This involves a change of state, but in all development at a certain point a complete rearrangement of elements is necessary for the further functioning on a higher level. The significance of Christ's necessary death and His new form of life after it is a fact of history which is able to give validity and assurance to all men that death is not the end of all but the door to a change of life. Contemporary Man and the Future It is easy enough for modem man to exert the effort to build a new world if the dangers and ris~ are not too great. The vast development of the world which we are now experiencing is not an absolute guarantee that man's progress will always be forward and upward. The 4- ÷ .Conquest in the VOLUME 28, 1969 " 217 temptation to revolt in the face of great odds and diffi-culties is as possible as it ever was. As man becomes more complex and his consciousness more highly developed, the possibilities for further progress are just as good as the possibilities for destruction. It all depends how man chooses to use his powers--in the direction of greater growth in true Christian life or in selfish temporary satisfaction. The urgency to get out of oneself and build a better world for all men is not a call to be answered later. The forces involved in a developing universe are forces that are centered in Christ and ultimately in God the Father. Christ's invitation to be with Him and gather or else to be against Him and scatter is both a promise and a threat that either we build with Him or be cast aside into unending disorganization and disunity. Heaven and hell are as real as they are totally opposite each other. Heaven is full of life in perfect harmony. Hell is empty life in total discord. Man at every point in history must simply choose to build the earth and its spiritual forces in and with Christ or to build a "nothing" out-side Him. + 4. + P/~id O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CARLO A. WEBER, S.J. The Field oJ Combat: Neurotic or Existential Guilt There is no domain in which the acute problem of communication between theology and psychology is more evident than in the experience of guilt. Stormy en-counters on the nature and origins of the experience, its place in human development, its effects on human lives wage on without much hope of resolution, largely because the language, the symbols, and the context of the discussion are not the same for all the contestants. The field of combat is common to all; but the rules of the game are not ~he same. A split-level mode of com-munication has prevailed. Jung remarked of this en-counter that " . both appear to use the same language, but the language calls up in their minds two totally different fields of association. Both [theologians and psychologists] can apparently use the same concept, and then are bound to acknowledge to their amazement that they are speaking of two different things." And to make the issue even more complex, one can add the profes-sional legalist to the lists. For from yet another stance, the lawyer is also concerned with problems of guilt. The experience of guilt, then, is the common playing field for theologians, psychologists, lawyers. But for each, it means whatever the methodological conditioning of his own discipline obliges it to mean. For the moral theologian, it has generally suggested reprehensibility, culpability, blame-worthiness, sin. For the lawyer, it means, specifically, responsibility before the law, civil or ecclesiastical, or criminality as determined by legal can-ons. And for the psychologist, in sharp contrast, it im-plies rather a first-level symptom, the crippling expres-sion of a depreciating self-concept, perhaps the residue of a super-ego-oriented childhood training. + 4- ,I, Carlo A. Weber, S,J., is Director o[ Psychological Serv-ices; Loyola Univer-sity of Los Angeles; Los Angeles, Cali-fornia 90045. VOLUME 28, 1969 219 Carlo Weber, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 220 When the discussants in the dialogue use the same word to denote such utterly different things, communica-tion soon dissolves into futile bickering over semantics. Guilt is sin; guilt is crime; guilt is symptom. The vocal sounds one hears in the dialogue alert the same signals; but the phenomena signalized are in no way the same. In such a conversation of nonmeanings, a fruitless and frus-trating collision course is inevitable. It is like approach-ing a railroad crossing without the slightest assurance that the waving semaphore symbolizes an approaching train or an unimpeded right-of-way. One would be better off without the semaphore in such a case; and so we might be better off without the word "guilt." The "guilt-language," as the "God-language" in many instances, or the "soul-language," oi other similar efforts at non-communication might best be scrapped, that we might attempt an uncluttered look at the phenomenological realities and then allow a new language to emerge to fit the reality. Orwell's "New-speak," or Cattell's crypto-scientific system of operational definitions in psycho-metrics may, however wild they first seem, be something of the answer. We might well avoid the confusion that always arises from previous connotations to a word by introducing entirely different sound associations. The present state of affairs, then, is largely one in which the language of guilt tends to divide authorities rather than to aid communication between them. When the psychologist hears his legal associate describe a man's guilt in court and watches him step nimbly through what appears to be a maze of legal fictions, he finds the process frightfully objective, abstract, impersonal, inhuman. But the lawyer is not really describing the psychologist's "guilt." The theologian is properly horri-fied, on the other hand, when he hears the psychologist's attempts to gloss over the reality of guilt and speak of it as some neurotic myth. This, to him, is a form of "psy-chologizing"-- foggy, anarchic, and sentimental. But the psychologist is not, in fact, describing the theologian's "guilt" either; indeed, if he is loyal to his methodology, he has nothing to say of it. One could, of course, con-tinue with this litany of misunderstanding; the cross-cultural impasses are possibly as evident as the semantic circus of an international diplomatic conference. Though it may be next to impossible to draw meaning from this semantic labyrinth, we are, nonetheless, stuck with it. It is of value to note that within the verbal en-tente, orientations which have traditionally set the con-testants apart do emerge. It may be helpful to try to clarify them. For the psychologist, guilt is strictly a sub-jective phenomenon, a feeling, if you will, that can be-come almost the pervasive element of one's inner experi- ence. The psychologist, as such, is little concerned about the external, objective counterpart of the experience. His world, as a clinician, is the perceptual world, not pre-cisely the accuracy of the percepts. Whether one's feeling of guilt, therefore, is rooted in anti-social actions, or in an interiorized, guilt-ridden self-concept is not pre-cisely the point. It is now the individual's feeling; and the psychologist deals with it as such. He also realizes that the intensity of the experience is not necessarily in proportion to the quality of an external action or event. One individual may experience crushing guilt subsequent to running a red light at a deserted intersection; another may remain blandly guilt-free after bludgeoning a harm-less old lady's skull. Such a feeling of guilt is clearly not the function of some specific external action; but it is rather the correlate and the expression of his own inner awareness of his value, or rather the lack of it. The inner awareness is the point of differentiation for the psycholo-gist. For both the moral theologian and the lawyer, however, there is an objective emphasis in the philosophy of guilt. An objective norm which has been violated is the criterion according to which one assesses guilt. That norm, of course, is not the same for both. For the lawyer, it is the civil or common law. For the moralist, it is the "will of God," expressed either through canon law, or the magisterium of a teaching Church, or the Sacred Books, or the natural law. But in each case, the norm is an external one; and guilt is the function of a violation of that norm. Once that has been established, the legalist can turn his atten-tion to the degree of individual-culpability, for example, knowledge of the existence of the norm, consciousness at the moment of violation, presence or absence of over-whelming emotional or physical duress, and so forth. So long as we can reasonably assume some subject-ob-ject dichotomy, these two arrangements appear to be quite different. The moral theologian and the lawyer, both with their own specific articulation of the norm of behavior, regard guilt as the individual's posture be-fore the law; the psychologist sees it more as the individ-ual's posture before himself. That there is room for an overlapping of these dimensions is as true as the fact that the subject-object dichotomy is not crystal clear; but, with that qualification, the criteria are different, and so also are the semantic worlds built around the two points of view. Unfortunately, the tradition of morality in the West has been heavily legal since the days when the Latin rite was imposed on the Western Church. And with the Latin rite came the Roman tradition which was one of law and legal prescriptions. The language and the emphasis of Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 Carlo Weber, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 the Western Church, when addressing itself to questions of mor~ility and guilt, has been on the side of law. Moral textbooks became classic examples of legal casu-istry. Room was always left, to be sure, for the "subjec-tive," as preserved in the distinction between formal and material sin; but the bulk of any discussion inevi-tably turned about a consideration of the objective or material guilt. Scarcely more than a condescending nod was given to the presence of the subjective element as the final determinant of sinfulness, with something of a begrudging acknowledgement that that aspect, after all, was the most important. But no effort at all was ex-pended, until very recent times, in attempting to provide some phenomenological map of the subjective. Perhaps the futility of that prospect obliged the moralists to turn their attention to the legal puzzle that was, after all, more intellectually satisfying and a good deal more comfort-able. One would suggest, mindful of the discussions swirling about Pope Paul's encyclical, Humanae vitae, that it is clear that the legal emphasis is still the pre[ vailing attitude of the official Church. The rupture within the Church is precisely a function of the person versus Law approaches to morality and guilt. When the law becomes the criterion for human be-havior, the stage is set for casuistic thinking :about morality. This implies a mental "set" in which one is concerned chiefly with the degree of deviation from the norm. How far, for example, can I deviate from the statement of the law and still be safe? Or, at what point of deviation do I stray from the area of safety to the do-main in which I must be classified as a sinner, if it be a moral law, or a criminal, if it be a civil law? Legal guilt is the consequence of straying outside the latitude which the law allows. In that area the legalo-moralist conducts his conceptual jousting. Only recently have attempts been made to bring about a wedding of the law and the personal in the various modes of situational ethics. And this, of course, is both the effect of the communion of psychologists and theologians and a stimulating rein-forcement for it. The norm becomes more an ideal which one strives to approach continuously throughout his life rather than a law from which one deviates. Neurotic Guilt The genesis of neurotic guilt, as described by the psychopathologist, follows a commonly described nuclear process that was most brilliantly outlined originally by Karen Horney. There are four discernible stages. The process begins with a faulty personality development in childhood. The child, whose first self-concept, as such, is the result of the interiorization of the value placed upon him by his parents, sees himself as those significant people in his life see him. If the child is rejected, un-wanted, ignored, neglected, he begins at an .early stage in psychological development to see himself as unworthy, unlovable. This is a fairly obvious situation and need not be explored at any length. The rejected child anticipates rejection' from others because that is the extent of his experience; and he can, in gross instances, unconsciously provoke rejection by hostile, abrasive conduct, precisely because of this expected response pattern. Such a child is almost bound to "always hurt the one he loves." At the other extreme of parental reaction, the child can be overprotected in his early years. The result is the absence of any process of growth into independence. The custo-dial love of the parent prevents the possibility of growth, and the child remains weak, helpless, dependent. In terms of the growth of a self-concept, the child will tend to see himself in the same manner and behave as such. No one is unfamiliar with the suffocating, devouring, .de-structive mother-child relationship, described first by Strecker, who coined the phrases "Morn" and "Mom-ism" in his classic, Their Mothers" Sons. The notion has become virtually a household word since, made even more popular with the expression of theories of a bur-geoning matriarchal society. Interestingly enough, the effect on the self-concept of the child of both rejection and overprotection is ap-proximately the same. These are simply two sides of the same coin. In either case, the child is not being valued for himself. The rejected child is not loved at all; the overprotected child is not loved, except as the mirror reflection of the mother, whose narcissistic needs are pro-jected on him. In both instances, the child disappears. This is also true, but not to the same extent, in the situa-tion where the parents' love for the child is conditional. The child is loved providing he follows certain ground rules established by the parents. Ground rules are essen-tial, of course, but they ought not to be the condition for acceptance. If they are, the child sees himself as valuable and lovable only as long as he continues to ful-fill the regulations for being loved. He ,must continue to perform the tasks prescribed; and, in time, the task-oriented process becomes a way of life. Whether the child is rejected, overprotected or conditionally-loved, the effect, in varying degrees, is the same. The child perceives him-self as inadequate, unlovable, helpless, or constantly in need of proving his value. The moral analogue to the psychological feeling of ineptness or inadequacy is the feeling of guilt. The latter is merely a translation 'of the same feeling from psycho-logical language to moral language. To say, in a psycho-÷ ÷ 4- Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS logical context;.that I am weak, flaccid,, incompetent, un-lovable is the same as saying, in a moral context, I am bad, sinful, guilty. The difference here between the neu-rotic guilt and genuine forms of responsible guilt lies in the difference between the phrase "I am bad" and the statement "I do bad things." The former is a description of the basic personality of the self-depreciating neurotic; the latter a description of occasional activity. The most apt expression of the neurotic guilt feeling was given me, quite incidentally, by a woman patient, who was in-credibly scrupulous. For her, every action was a sin. In a therapy session, she remarked, rather in passing: "You know, sin is in my veins." And with this cryptic obser-vation, she sums it all up. "Sin, badness, is as much a part of me as my very blood. It describes my life, my being, my essence, as it were. And since I am, in es-sence, sinful, every action, which, in fact, is an expres-sion of my nature, must be sinful. I shall either discover it there, as the scrupulou

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

Issue 27.1 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 21, CHASTITY AND LOVE Joseph J, Sikora, S.J. VIRGINAL TEMPLES Thomas Dubay, S.M. ALIENATION OF MANUSCRIPTS James I. O'Connor, S.J. COMPREHENSIVE MENTAL HEALTH PROGRAMMING John F. Muldoor~ 66 INDIVIDUAL FORMATION PERIODS William F. Hogan. C.S.C~ GROUP METHODS IN SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M. AUTHORITY AND RELIGIOUS LIFE J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. 104 LOVE HAS ITS PROPRIETIES Sister Mary Sheila, S.N.J.M. COMMUNITY AND MYSTERY AT MASS Robert A. Bagnato, S.J. THE JESUIT NOVITIATE Nicholas A. Predovich. S.J. 137 THE TERRITORIAL IMPERATIVE Sister Teresa Margaret, O,C.D 143 THE PIETY VOID Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. 163 SURVEY OF R~)MAN DOCUMENTS 170 VIEWS. NEWS, PREVIEWS 174 'QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 186 BOOK REVIEWS 1;12 121 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellavd, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as wei| as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32x Willlngs Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1967 by REVIEW YOU RI~LIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER x REVIEW FOR RELI(~IOUS Volume 27 1968 . EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Micro-film edition of Review for Re-ligious is available from Uni-versity Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS On February i, 1968, R~vaEw FOR P~ELI~IOUS will publish clothbound reprints of volumes 2I to 25 (1962-I966) incluslve of the REv-mw. These clothbound reprints will cost $7.5o each per volume or' $37.5o for all five volumes. However, until January 3I, x968, these volumes will be sold at a special prepublication price of $6.oo per volume or $3o.oo for the entire set of five volumes. However, to take advantage of this special prepublication price, orders mhst be accompanied by full payment in U.S.A. funds and must be postmarked on or before January S~, 1968" The first twenty volumes (1942-I96I) inclusive of the R~vmw have already been reprinted in twenty clothbound volumes. These normally sell at $6.5o per volume or $I3o.oo for the set of twenty. However, from November ~ 5, 1967, to January 3 I, 1968, inclu-sive, they will be sold at the special price of $5.o0 per volume or $1oo.oo for the set of twenty. On February I, I968, and thereafter the price of these first twenty volumes of the REvmw will return to their normal price of $6.5o per. volume. Postage is included in all the above prices. Orders for all the above should be sent to: R~vmw Foa REL~C~OUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. JOSEPH J. SIKORA, s.J. Chastity and Love Recent* decades have seen a gradual change in theo-logical emphasis and perspective regarding various as-pects of human sexual love in the state of marriage. Four such aspects might be distinguished: pleasure, procreation, mutual help, and personal love and com-munion. While all four of these have in fact always been present in this sexual relation, though not necessarily in every case, until only recently the first three were most strongly emphasized. And of these three, procreation has been traditionally regarded as the "primary end" of marriage. But in recent years the fourth, with the help of modern psychological and philosophical studies, has come into much greater prominence, so much so that some have wished to treat it as in fact the really pri-mary end of marriage. In the light of the past teaching o{ the Church this seems quite impossible, but it is at least recognized now that this personal love and com-munion is not just something subordinate to the bio-logically procreative aspect of sexual life. Interpersonal communion among us is one of the pri-mary values of human life, and human sexual love is ordinarily the primary and fullest mode of this inter-personal communion. Sexual intercourse in marriage is the full incarnation of this sexual love in the manner connatural to the human person; it is at once a sign and expression of this love and communion, ~nd also a means of intensifying it still more. When intercourse reaches its natural term in procreation, the child himself is a yet further expression and sign of the mutual love of the parents and at the same time a new bond that joins them still more firmly in this love, now not only mutual but for .the child as well. Thus marriage and family life are most fully human, not at the level of mere biological activity, but at the level of human love and interpersonal * Since the writing o{ this article Father Joseph J. Sikora, S.J., has died; may he rest in peace. This article will appear in a posthumous book by Father Sikora on the theology of religious life to be published in 1968 by Herder and Herder. ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" .loseph .I. Sikora, S.1. REVIEW F~R RELIGIOUS 6 communion. The whole biological structure finally exists only in order to support such a life of persons in mutual knowledge, love, communion, and communication. From a purely biological point of view we might speak of the primary end of marriage and sexual intercourse as b~ing that of the biological species rather than that of the individual, and consequently of its being found in pro-creation rather than in the pleasure and good of the biological individual. Still, this could hardly be said in such a simple way of the domain of personal and inter-personal values that are found ;here. (But this is not meant to suggest any hasty conclu'sions about the thorny problem of contraception.) But if marriage is now understood primarily in its significance in the personal and interpersonal sphere (though without ever setting aside its biological as-pects), this must mean that religions chastity also has an altered significance. Religious chastity, of course, still entails the denial of the pleasures of sex, of the possi-bility of procreation, and of the various joys of married life. But this chastity must also mean that a primary natural mode of human interpersonal communion in love is also excluded. Metaphysical and theological reflection in this light reveals a .most serious problem with the ideal of religious chastity. We do not relate ourselves to God in the same direct manner in which we can relate to our fellow hu-man beings. In fact we come to know God through the analogical resemblance of His creatures to Him; and we understand the meaning of interpersonal love and com-munion with God through our understanding of human love and communion. But if we are, through chastity, to exclude from our lives the primary mode of such hu-man love, then how can we come to the most profound affective relationship to God? And yet the very purpose of religious chastity is to enable us, with the help of grace, to come to just such a deeper relationship of love, not only to God but even to our fellow men. It would seem, then, that religious chastity really defeats its own purpose. This problem has also another aspect. The two sexes are mutually complementary in many ways, and really need each other in order to achieve full human growth to maturity. Either one by itself lacks a certain complete-ness in the line of nature, in some manner is not yet a full person. Especially is this so in regard to the very dimension of interpersonal communion itself. But with-out this interpersonal communion one must remain to some extent closed in upon himself, and, so it would seem, thereby less capable of opening outward in the love of God. Still more, religious chastity tends, in the con-crete, frequently to close off even other modes of mutual human interpersonal affective relation, in the interest of avoiding possible dangers of undue attachment to another person and even of eventual sexui~l difficulty. But all this only appears to weaken the ability of the person to enter into any affective relation at all, even to God. There is in fact a fundamental openness to God---even in the natural order and .the structure of our finite being, but also in the supernatural order through infused faith, hope, and charity--that already exists prior to any hu-man interpersonal relation at. all. It is true that our su-pernatural life is thus intrinsically prior to and inde-pendent of any particular human relationships at all. But still, this supernatural life must make use of our natural knowledge, natural love, natural affective com-munion, in order to come to .some analogical understand-ing of the meaning of the love of God, and to those particular acts of prayer and action that fill out our super-natural life under faith, hope, and charity. "If anyone does not love his neighbor, whom he sees, how can he love God, whom he does not see?" Full human life, and even full human life with God, seems to suppose pro-found affective relation to other persons, and perhaps even complete sexual communion with another in mar-riage. Such considerations as the above have led some to consider seriously whether we ought to reverse the ideas of many centuries concerning the value of religious chas-tity as a means of entering into a more intense life of loving communion with God. They point out that hu-man persons are both spiritual and fleshly, that it is simply wrong for us to try to escape this fact about our being, that we must work out with the help of God our salvation in and through the world and in and through our bodies as part of this world and even of our being. And these latter points are, to be sure, valid enough so far as they go. And yet there is in fact an ideal of religious chastity; it remains one of the three evangelical counsels. It has had a long history in the Church, in pre-Christian times, and in non-Christian religions. Quite apart from the position taken by the Church in its regard, religious chastity could not but be regarded with a degree of respect because of this long tradition in its favor in widely varying cultures and religions. It would be some-what naive for us to think that the difficulties cited above are of themselves conclusive and that religious chastity has become an outmoded cultural and religious form. Chastity has some resemblance to religious poverty. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Again, there is a renunciation of the use and possession of some creatures in the .interest of a greater freedom of spirit in their regard. This ddtachment from creatures is thought to make attachment to God in love easier than it would otherwise be. At the same time, chastity like. poverty, tends to enable the one who embraces it to achieve a greater degree of order in his love, now his love of p~.rsons and not just of material things, and indeed also ,a greater degree of perfection in this love. Chastity by no means intends to deny the need of grace-elevated human love and communion, as well as of love' and communion with God through grace. But through the renunciation of sexual love, chastity prepares for a "mystical" love of God :and of all other persons in God. The meafiing of this "mystical" love will be explained in more detail.below. For the moment let it stand for a certain excess in intensity of" love that is so focused on God that everything else, is loved only in relation to Him. The dangers of .religious chastity for many persons have long been known in at least a general way. This way of chastity is not for everybody, nor even for most. "Let him take it who can." An already neurotic person-ality might look tO religious chastity as a way out of some of his problems, but in fact 0nly fall into further en-tanglements as a result of embracing' it. (And yet it is also possible for some neurotics finally to grow to ma-ture persons in a religious life of poverty, chastity, and obedienceS--but under enlightened direction.) It would be possible for one who embraces religious chastity to pervert its intention by so turning in upon himself as, to be completely unable to relate affectively with other peisons: Chastity here has been twisted into narcissicism. Or one could go not quite so far down this path, by mis-taking the renunciation of sexual love for a renuncia-tion of any intense human love of friendship at all. Such a person would be at least a stunted "personality, some-what'hollow, perhaps al~n'ost mechanical in his life and work. All these are serious .dangers to be avoided by careful direction of those who would enter upon the way of Chasiity. Theyare fhrther reasons, besides the strength of the basic human sexual-impulse, that chastity is not [or anyone and everyone--not even for" everyone wh6' might think he wants it. But with all this,, the theory of religious chastity is fundamentalIy Osound. It should lead, and most important it has led, to a higher degree of detachment and freedom of spirit in regard to material things and the desires of the flesh. It should provide, and has provided for many, the opportunity for a new height of affective supernat-ural communion with God, and also with all men in God. It.should offer, and has offered in fact, to many a greater freedom for their apostolic work for the kingdom of God. The Church has already taught in an irreformable manner the great value of chastity as a means in the love and service of~ God; in itself the state of virginity or chastity is superior to that of matrimony for this reason. We have the example of Christ Himself, of His Mother, and of many of the canonized saints. In the face of ob-jections concerning the "natdralness" of sexual union and of matrimony, we must first insist that the natural order is not all that is to be considered. In general, however, we must agree that successful human love-rela-tionships (that are also desirable and licit) do tend to favor supernatural life with God and with our fellow men at the level of the reflex articulation of prayer and at that of particular action. They are even dispositions in favor of a good basic moral option of charity under-lying all these particular thoughts and actions (merely negative dispositions if these relationships are not in-spired by grace, even positive dispositions if they are. in fact inspired by grace). But in order to understand fully the actual role of religious chastity in regard :to super-natural love it is necessary to adopt a quite different point of view. There is a love that is of'its nature a unique love, without the possibility of any simultaneous analogues in the same person. Of itself it is a once-and-once=only affair (though it is possible for one such love to give way to another in the course of life, or in the entrance to eternity). Jacques Maritain has distinguished, in his recent Carnet de Notes (Paris, 1965), between an amour d'amitid and an amour de 7olie, to bring out this point. It is possible for us to take advantage of his elaboration of this distinction a propos of chastity in order to better understand several aspects of chastity and its relation to our supernatural life of grace. But not everything in the presentation here is necessarily to be attributed to Maritain. Amour d'amitid, or ordinary love of friendship, is opposed to amour de [olie. Both of these would certainly have to be called love of friendship in a broad sense, since the amour de folie is a yet more intense form of love that goes still farther, beyond ordinary friendship. But we shall set aside for the moment all consideration of this amour de folie, and concentrate our attention upon various aspects of the ordinary love of friendship (amour d'amiti~)--such as ~is found to exist between hu-man friends and also between a person with sanctifying grace and God Himself. When such a love of friendship comes to its perfection + + + Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 9 4" 4" 4" .loseph I. Sikora, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 (speaking only relatively, since such a.love could go on increasing without limit), there is profound affective communion between the friends. This communion also includes, both as a support and as a result, the mutual sharing of all their goods in communication and in other forms of mutual giving. All that belongs to one also belongs to the other. And yet it could not be said that each has given his whole self to the other, except by a metaphor. It would be quite possible for each to have other friendships similar to this and simultaneous .with it, at the same or even greater degrees of intensity of love and communion. Each shares all he has, but not all of his very self. There is a love of friendship similar to this between the human person with sanctifying grace and God. This friendship between man and God means that the man has a personal affective regard for, communion with, and commitment to God that does in fact go beyond what he might have for any human friends. This is only to say that he loves God above all things and would prefer to lose any creature rather than God and His friendship. Such a friendship with God already exists at the level of the basic moral option of charity; thus it might be found even in anonymous Christians who would not be able to articulate in their thought or ex-press so well in their particular acts (at least not in such a full and conscious manner) their actual profound love of God. Such anonymous Christians do not have the fully articulated faith of Christians in the Church but only an inarticulate faith-adherence to the saving good who is God. But those Christians who live in the light of articulated faith can cultivate relations with God even at the level of reflex articulation of thought and through the various particular acts that every concrete situation calls for. Such a fuller life with God, at the level and under the direction of reflex consciousness, wouldneces-sarily be understood and lived by analogy with one's experience of ordinary human interpersonal relations further illumined by the light of faith. Clearly, every licit form of experience of human love and interpersonal communion could aid in enriching one's life with God at this level. But if there, is analogy between friendship between men and that between man and God, there is also notable difference, It is true that such a friendship between man and God is simply compatible with profound supernat-ural human affection and friendship for other human beings. But at the same time supernatural friendship with God, in its roots in the basic moral option of char-ity, calls for ever greater entry by man into participation in the very life of God Himself. There must be gradual growth of the divine life' in man, a gradual assertion of its dominion over every aspect of the human life in man. And although natural human tendencies ~ontinne to assert themselves throughout human life until death, these tendencies must themselves be elevated ever more completely by grace--integrated ever more completely into the supernatural life in man--so that God may have an ever more complete dominion in the human spirit in supernatural faith, hope, and charity. Concrete human love continues in this life to have both elements, supernatural grace and natural tendencies that are not thoroughly and completely subjected to supernatural grace. But the fundamental tendency of supernaturally graced man is toward an immediate union and total communion with God that could not exist simply side-by- side with another such communion but rather must really come to dominate exclusively and in utmost inti-macy- so that God really does become the form in some manner of the human soul. This kind of communion with God will be communion with God as one's All, simply one's All. This communion is already realized in an incipient manner through sanctifying grace and the indwelling of the Trinity in the human spirit; but it will be realized more fully, and more clearly, in the light of the immediate vision of God in eternity. But if such a height of friendship with and total im-mersion into God in af[ective communion is not part of the ordinary course of human supernatural life until eternity, nevertheless the mystical writers testify that this tendency of the life of grace can be in fact more fully actualized even at present. God does become more completely All for and in the spirit of man in the "mys-tical life" and through "mystical love." (But these terms are used here simply as designating a special mode of interpersonal relation to God, without carrying the weight of any special ontological account of "infused contemplation" that would make a radical break between ordinary Christian spiritual life and the entire mystical life.) This leads to a consideration of the second mode of love noted above, the amour de folie, or, we may say, "love unto folly," We shall examine the general charac-ter of such a love and then note the two modes in which it can come to realization here below. This analysis will enable us to understand much better the precise role of chastity as a religious means toward fullness of life with God here below, and indeed also the role of the whole life of the counsels in this regard. "Love unto folly" goes beyond ordinary friendship. In it there is not only a complete sharing of goods but even ¯ a complete, unreserved, mutual self-giving. Such an + ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 11 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph ~. Sik~ra, S4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 12 abandon in the giving of one's whole self to another is only folly to mere reason. For reason sees the natural reference of every human love somehow to the self (in the natural sphere, and without consideration of the fundamental tendency of supernatural life). To mere reason, love must always be the love of a good that is good-for, a good that is good in itself but also a good for the one who loves. But in this love unto folly, this seems to be almost ignored by the one who loves; this is a love that goes beyond such categories of formulating and discursive reason, following a higher light of intuitive reason. And what is it that intuitive reason "sees"? It all depends on which of two directions this "love unto folly" takes. But for the moment we must confine our-selves to remarks about this love that are quite general. In this love there is fully exclusive affective commun-ion, not excluding other loves of friendship but com-pletely excluding any other love like this. This is love of the other as one's All. But we can have only one All, in whom we are totally absorbed and to whom we are totally given in all that we are and have. Such a love means complete communion Of spirit and complete open-ness to communication and all mutual giving. Needless to say, there would be no possibility of an analogical relation between two such loves in the same person simultaneously--there can be only one All for a person at a time, unless this person be the infinite God who gives Himself totally in all that He is to all men who will receive Him. But such a perfection of love as this could be found by man in either of two orders. There is a natural per-fection (capable also of elevation by supernatural grace) of such love. This is to be found in the complete mutual giving of man and woman in sexual love in marriage. This sexual love is finally and fully incarnated, sym-bolized, and at its peak of intensity, in its physical as-pect, in the act of sexual intercourse. But such sexual love is much more than this in the spiritual domain of affective communion and all that follows from this. In sexual love of this kind, in which one person gives him-self completely to the other in h~is whole being, there is the greatest other-centeredness that could be found in natural human love for another human being. It is to the other as to his All that he gives himself. We are of course speaking of the most successful human marriage relations and not of the failures; these latter remain all too possible, especially for lack of the ability to love in such a manner. This other-centered love is not without the radical reference to self that is the mark of every natural hu-man love to the extent that it is not elevated by and brought under the complete, and perfect dominion of grace. If one finds his All in another, this is still in the other as another self (and therefore finally as somehow good-for the sel~). This follows from the very meta-physical structure of natural human love. But at the same time the metaphysical structure of this natural sexual love, focusing on the other as fully another self--even as a part of one's integral being--also makes it to be the most fully other-centered mode of natural human love. Sexual intercourse is of itself expr.essive of this complete other.centeredness, of total personal giving in mutual communion. Such a love as this could clearly be only for one other at once. When such a perfect sexual love is elevated by supernatural grace, it retains the same basic characteris-tic, that each person is All to the other. But supernat-ural charity, as we have seen, gives a new further orien-tation and drive toward God and toward a fullness of communion with God. Some day the "love unto folly" of married persons must end, at least in eternity; for charity must fructify into complete loving communion with God now present in vision. Then He will truly become the All for everyone who is with Him. Rejoicing together in their supernatural friendship of charity, they will all see and love the Three who are much more than friends to them, who are their All, whatever else they may have besides. But even in this present life here below it is possible for men to arrive at a perfection of supernatural love o[ God that is in some ways parallel to the perfection of natural (and supernaturally elevated by grace) love in most successful marriage. This would be a "mystical love," as has already been noted above. As a mode of "love unto folly" it would be simply incompatible with the simultaneous presence of another such love as this. Only one other could be one's All at one time. Yet this love inspired by supernatural grace would not be a love for God only as "another self" (such as would be any mere natural love, with its radical reference to the self), but even for God as the transcendent and infi-nite Self, good-for Himself and also to and for His shared life of supernatural grace. The focal point of grace-inspired love is altogether outside oneself, even in the most radical sense. Such a love is never found iso-lated in the pure state in our present mode of being; there is also a (in itself neither sinful nor disorderly) natural element--a natural love--with it that retains an independent and radical reference to oneself in focusing upon what is good-for oneself. This element will, of course, remain even in eternal life with God; but there it will be completely integrated under the dominion of ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Lo~e VOLUME 27, + ÷ ÷ 1oseph J. Sikora, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 supernatural life¯ Our progress in supernatural life here below consists in large part of the growth of this do-minion of supernatural grace even at present. In "mys-tical'love" for God, the supernatural aspect clearly be-comes more and more dominant; it is even possible for complete integration of everything else under the super-natural life to be achieved in the state of transforming union and the mystical hght. But such an intricate and refined analysis need not be carried any further here. What is of interest here is a more descriptive account of this supernatural mode of "love nnto folly." In and through such a love of man for God, God shows Himself more openly and enters into a more profound intimacy with the human spirit. In this love the real finality of supernatural grace in us emerges more into the light (though still in the obscurity of faith)--its tendency toward the complete dominion of God in the soul, as the center of every activity, through supernatural faith, hope, and charity. This supernatural mode of "love unto folly" is ultimately incompatible with another such simultaneous love in the order of human sexual relation, and indeed utterly transcendent in relation to such a sexual love in any event. There is therefore no possibility of analogiz-ing from such a sexual, human love in order to achieve an adequate reflex articulation of "mystical love" in thought or in particular day-to-day action. Passive con-templation, without the possibility of adequate active articulation must begin here; this is a way of renuncia-tion of means and a way of darkness for the spirit--in which it must be led by th~ Spirit rather than find its own way. Every articulation in terms of earlier experi-ence is now simply insufficient to express what is now felt, and no acts are in any way adequate to testify to the actnal intensity of this love. Only silence, and per-haps also the most intense apostolic activity, come any-where near expressing this personal devotion and intensity of affective communion with God and with Christ; and yet finally everything falls short. There are no patterns in human love available here, except those we find 'in the revelation of God--especially in Scripture--in the life of Christ, and in the lives of the saints. But each one who follows this way must follow it in his own unique manner, under the guidance of God. Still, it is not true to say that the earlier modes of expressing friendship with God in articulated thought and action simply disappear. Far from it. Common mo-rality always remains to be lived as perfectly as possible. Frequent articulated prayer goes right along with mys-tical prayer--articulation first in the liturgy of the Church but also in personal prayer outside the liturgical events. And as we have said, the modes of apostolic ac-tion still remain, perhaps now expanded both in variety and in scope. So also, it remains true always that many human interpersonal relations of the most profound affective nature will help to deepen awareness and understanding, aid in greater reflex articulation, and also contribute to inventiveness in our apostolic action among our fellows --as well as enabling us to carry out better the simple exigencies of that fundamental love of neighbor that goes along with any friendship, and afortiori such a friendship, with God and with Christ. Only one such human interpersonal relation is ex-cluded as incompatible with such a full love-relation to God; .this is the "love unto folly" that ordinarily should mark successful marriage. And yet marriage itself is not excluded here. Neither is sexual intercourse within mar-riage (though it is deprived of its full symbolism of com-plete mutual giving of self--how could one give himself wholly to two Alls?). Perhaps the true "love unto folly" that is "mystical love" is not ordinarily found in such cases; but who could collect and offer statistics in this matter? In any event this kind of supernatural "love unto folly" for God does'mean that a union in marriage be-tween "mystics" would have to be something less in itself than it would be if it were itself a "love unto folly" for these same persons. Of itself and apart from the con-sideration of special circumstances, perfect chastity would ordinarily be the "easier" way, more free of tension, for those who would wish to give themselves in such a manner to God. In this sense, chastity and the whole way of the counsels could be called the "ordinary way" of pursuing such a path of love of God. In the light of these considerations, the supernaturally motivated renunciation of marriage, of sexual inter-course, of sexual pleasure, is of itself a preparation (negative, or even positive) in the supernatural order for such a higher mode of love of God. This renunciation is such a preparation precisely in so far as it excludes the other mode of "love unto folly" that could only exist among married Persons and that would incarnate and symbolize itself in sexual intercourse. This renunciation is not of itself already the actual "achievement" (if we may so speak of what can only be a gift of God) of .a "mystical" love of God; but it cannot help but point toward and even call for such a relation to God. The whole life of the evangelical counsels tends toward this exclusive love of God that goes beyond mere friendship; and this kind of love of God does not seem really possible without something at least equivalent to what is ordinarily understood as the life of the counsels. 4. 4- 4. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 3.968 4. .]oseph .1. Sila~ra, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]6 The renunciation of sexual love that is called for by the life of: the counsels, and by ,evangelical chastity in particular, is of necessity more than just a renunciation of marriage and sexual intercourse. It requires also the renunciation~ of a large number of other intersexual rela-tions that ultimately tend toward the full relation of marriage and intercourse, and that would consequently endanger this ideal of chastity. But at the same time, many other modes of human interpersonal relation through affective regard and communion are not only open to but even very necessary for anyone who would preserve and grow in such an intense loving relation to God Himself. Our love for family, friends, brothers or sisters in a religious community, or in some instances perhaps for a wife, contributes in several important ways toward ~the full expansion and development of that love -"unto folly" of God. that still transcends them all. It would be well briefl~ to dwell upon these ways. As has already been pointed out before, such well-ordered relations of love: toward and communion with other human beings are analogues of human love for God. Even when ttiere is question of "mystical love" for God, these analogues still help to deepen and to support our partial and inadequate understanding of this relation to God and aid the ever inadequate articulation of our attitude in prayer. Such a "climate of human love," also elevated by supernatural grace, greatly facilitates those particular acts in relation to our neighbors toward which charity impels us. Even a natural love of others, com-paratively uninfluenced by the life of grace in us, could be a basis ~on which charity could buildbthough it could also be an obstacle to real supernatural charity by tena-cious resistance to the dominion of charity. ¯ Also, human love of the kind we are describing can remove very serious psychological obstacles that might otherwise be present, obstacles to the full appreciation arid. articulation, so far as possible, of our own love for God and for our neighbor, and also obstacles to the full appreciation, so far as possible, of God's own tender love and care,for us. If we had no feeling of ~being loved by anyone, how could we really appreciate in our human way, however inadequate, God's love for us? How could we really articulate a love for God, whom we do not see, if we cannot feel profound affective regard for other hu-man beings, whom we can see, or if we cannot articulate such a love for other human beings and express it in our various actions in their regard? We need both ,.the ex-perience of being loved by other human beings and that of loving them if we ale to be able to live any kind of articulated supernatural life that is expressed in partic-ular acts of love and care for:both God and man. It would, of course, be imprudent and even naive not to take account of the very real dangers to supernatural life that human love of this kind can create. It would be quite possible for one to grow in attachment to friends so much'that such friends come to stand alongside or even above God in the affections. It would be possible for one to fall gradually even into serious sexual diffi-culties. The great variety of human temperament makes it altogether necessary that no one simple standard of behavior should be required of or imposed upon all in regard to human friendships. But we must always keep a sense of perspective, ~an awareness that a certain amount of possible and remote danger should be tolerated in view of the greater good of full human development and fuller relation with God. In fact, our life of human love is very important indeed in Our religious life--and or-dinarily all the more so in those who follow the way of religious chastity. It would be altogether disastrous for the persohality if some distorted ideal of religious de-tachment were to succeed in crippling or killing our capacity for human love of other human beings. There is a certain amount of conventional nonsense regarding the saints. It is possible that some of them had no real human friendships; but the lives of the saints in general are full of examples of warm friendships, of saints surrounded even by a multitude of friends. Always they look toward a transcending of all such relations in their intense communion with God, but the richness and effectiveness of their human personalities in great part depend upon their capacity for human love. A chastity ¯ that would destroy this would make one much less than he was and would recall the words of Piers Plowman: "Chastity without charity will be chained in hell." But it must finally be understood that religious chas-tity does fundamentally orient the human person toward a love of God that goes beyond all other loves and is a true "love unto folly." Chastity, of all the counsels, points out most vividly the radically mystical purpose of these counsels. And yet if we have in most of this treat-ment emphasized the role of religious chastity as a prep-aration and disposition for a greater fullness of our af-fective love for God and man, this same chastity also has a very great value as regards the effective apostolate that should spring from such love, in all who are not living in a purely contemplative state. It would be well here briefly to note some aspects of this apostolic significance of religious chastity. Religious chastity is of itself a sign of the eschatolog-ical kingdom already here present through grace. It bears witness to the day when we shall come to the full-ness of supernatural life with God in which there will ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 be no marriage or giving in marriage. It also bears wit-ness to the power of grace even here below. Such a wit-ness to the reality and primacy of the spiritual and supernatural life of love of God has its powerful impact in the world. In excluding the bond of married love, religious chastity frees one for the concerns of God, for a really universal apostolate in the love and service of all men. It gives a much dearer vision of both material and spiritual reality by freeing one from total absorption in and centering on the pleasures and partnership of sexual love. The human energy that would otherwise have been expended in such a love is now available for yet higher purposes. If chastity has been insufficiently appreciated in very recent years for its apostolic power as well as for its role in communion with God, it nevertheless lacks nothing of its perennial value. It is only necessary that we come to an adequate appreciation of the more profound under-standing of chastity and of the requirements for success-ful living of such an ideal, that has become possible in the light of the metaphysical and psychological real-ities already discussed above. Such a more adequate ap-preciation will not lead to the abandonment of the ideal of religious chastity but to an even greater perfection in its practice today. It is now possible to make a few sug-gestions concerning the concrete practice of chastity to-day in religious communities. There are many safeguards to religious chastity that are dictated in large part by common sense. Clearly these must still be learned and preserved, today as much as ever, not only in the course of education of new members of religious communities but later as well. It is unneces-sary here to enter into the details of such a program. Only naivete could question the reasons for segregation of sexes and restrictions surrounding this. The same is to be said as regards a somewhat larger area in which Chris-tian modesty would have to be exercised, larger than that for those in or tending toward the married state. But there must be adequate education for recognition of the real complementarity and mutually enriching role of the sexes in human life, for understanding their fundamental equality as well as their differing psychol-ogies. It is simply impossible today to carry on with modern youth and young religious a successful program of sex education that would not meet their more sophis-ticated desire for fuller understanding of themselves precisely as masculine or feminine and therefore as naturally related to their complement. This is no matter of simple education to the simple physical sexual struc-tures and functions. What is needed is much more, a real understanding of the proper psychological mystery of the other sex as well as of one's own. If such an under-standing is absent, there is a felt ignorance of life that can only cause many more and serious problems. With-out such an understanding, one is less a man or less a woman. Such a more elaborate "sex education" of novices and young religious must of course be conducted only in the context of a presentation of the real meaning of the sacrifice entailed by religious chastity. This sacrifice must be seen not simply as a privation endured for the sake of an ascetical "test"--to prove one's strength of char-acter but in its direction toward fuller union and com-munion with God in "love unto folly" and toward total dedication to apostolic concern. But once the meaning of chastity as directed toward greater love is seen, then the role here even of human love and friendship must be pointed out. The values of human friendship~for fuller spiritual life, for fuller human maturity, for better meeting of human problems --must be opposed sharply to the concept of an "isola-tion with God" that would perhaps more commonly tend toward a rather narcissistic preoccupation with one-self and one's subjective states. We must beware of pseudo-idealizations of the saints and of the rhetorical exaggerations of ascetical writers. The saints too were human like us and had the same need of friendship as we do. Human love enriched their lives just as it does ours. If we are to grow in our human capacity for love and the expression of love--the ca-pacity that is supposed for the actual articulation and day-to-day manifestation of our supernatural love for God and for our neighbor, then we must have the ex-perience of this love. Nor would it be enough to have this only as a past recollection from earlier life in the family circle and in the world. It is not difficult to dry up, to forget how to love in a human way, unless this capacity is renewed, stirred to new growth, by the con-tinuing interpersonal involvement of human friendship. In this regard it is well to approach with a somewhat lighter touch the problem of the so-called "particular friendship" that has so much preoccupied many spiritual directors of the past. There is a genuine problem here. There is question of an immature affective relationship that is far too much under the domination of an emotion that goes beyond all bounds. Such relations must finally be controlled or cut off. But at the same time, we must not allow ourselves to be stampeded through fear or excessive caution into looking for the simple removal of emotion and warmth from human friendship. This would be to aim at the ideal of a rather mechanical man ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 19 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph J. Silurra, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 or woman, perhaps really incapable of any profound human love. Such a person would be "immature" in the sense that he or she was not allowed ever to grow to the full capacity for human affective relation to other human beings. Such a person would perhaps have some serious deficiency in dealing with other persons in the work of the apostolate and might find a relative impoverish-ment in his life of prayer and communion with God. Yet human love does have different characteristics in persons of different temperaments. Some are much more affective than others; some put much more emphasis upon practical and effective love that really does do, more than feel, good for other persons. Again, it is im-possible to set down any kind of uniform norms for such things. But the general implications of all that has been said are clear enough, it seems. Finally, it seems well to add a few words concerning the chastity of Christ, that chastity which always remains the model for every form of Christian religious chastity. Christ had, of course, the highest degree of "love unto folly" for His heavenly Father, and consequently for His Father's will. It is in this light that we should look upon His frequent resort to prayer in solitude. Hig Father was His All, here on earth just as in eternity. The chastity of Christ was therefore most congruous with His inner communion with God in the depth of His human heart. But in this union and communion with His Father, and flowing out of this very union and communion, He showed the most complete and tender love for all men, and especially for His very. own. A reading of John 13-17 would far surpass any words that could be added here to demonstrate this. Again we see this tender love when we look at Him, just a few days earlier, weeping over the death of Lazarus, or again, weeping over the city of Jerusalem. He was not the kind of mystic so totally absorbed in the One, or in the "divine darkness," or even in the "divine light," that He had no love to give and to manifest openly to His fellow men. Far from this, He radiated this love to all around Him, and especially to His very own. This lc;ve of Christ must be our own exemplar that guides our effort (aided by grace) just as it guides His own hand in drawing us to Himself and making us true instruments of His peace. THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Virginal Temples "Wherever# a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." z "Never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." ~ If consecrated virgins are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock,s and if they are the "marvelous sign" of the Church's sanctity,4 and if this Church is the temple of the indwelling Spirit-Sanctifier,~ we may not fail to devote some extended attention to the relationships found between the divine inhabitation and dedicated purity. The Church herself offers us her hand to guide us through this discussion, for if we may judge by her liturgical texts, she especially loves to contemplate her God resting in the virginal bosom. She prays, for example, on the feast of St. Gertrude to "God who has prepared in the heart of blessed Gertrude, virgin, a dwelling delightful for Yourself," ~ and on the feast of St. Cecilia she re-joices that "this glorious virgin always bore the gospel.of Christ in her breast nor did she cease day or night from divine converse and prayer., and her heart burned with a heavenly fire." r # Previous articles in this series were published in REVIEW FOR RE~AG~OUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 20~-B0 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation"); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion"); pp. 652-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism"); pp. 910-58 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body"); and pp. 1001-25 ("Indwelling Summit"). z St. Ambrose, De virginibus, bk. 2, c. 4; P.L. 16:214. ~ St. Jerome, Letter 22 to Eustochium, n. 2~; P.L. 22:409. z St. Cyprian, De habitu virginum, c. 5; P.L. 4:445; Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), p. 174. *Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 175--4. ~ Cor 5:16-7. ~ Roman Missal, Collect of November 16. ~ Roman Breviary, Responsory of Lesson 2 of Matins of Novem-ber ~2. Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at MaD, crest College; Davenport, Iowa; address: Box 782; BettendorL Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 21 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Aim oI Virginity: Indwelling God Establishing relationships between consecrated chastity and the divine inhabitation requires no straining of one's theological imagination. On the contrary, Sacred Scripture is quite replete with them. Basic to all of these relationships is the virginityqove orientation: a virgin is a virgin because of the great commandment. Throughout the pages of Sacred Scripture God-and-man intimacy is prominent, and central to this intimacy is love. Even in the old dispensation the love command-ment is clothed with a majestic solemnity and insisted upon with an impressive series of reminders to protect it from oblivion and neglect: Hear, O Israeli The lord is our God, the Lord alonel There- [ore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates,s One day some centuries later a pharisee strolled up to this God become incarnate with a knotty problem. "Master," he wanted to know, "which is the great com-mandment in the Law?" 0f the many possible precepts scattered through the Law the Master unhesitatingly came up with the crucial one: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." 9 This is man's main occupa-tion. It is also the reason a virgin is a virgin. The purpose of renunciation cannot be negative. Nothingness cannot motivate the will. Nor can it serve as a basis for a state in life. Dedicated chastity is not an escape from the burdens of marriage. It is not a flight from something tainted. According to Paul it is a total, efficient, unimpeded, liberating Self-donation to God. One remains virginal to give an undivided attention and love to the Trinity: "I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." 10 The virgin is a virgin that she may love undividedly. In pa-tristic thought the virgin is a person apart, a glory of the Church. Her love is supernatural, superhuman, unspeakably beautiful, immortal: s Dt 6:4-9. ~ Mt 22:36-7. xo 1 Cot 7:~2--4. In this marriage [to Christ] there is no tinge of passionate desire because the fervor of this holy love is nourished by a spiritual refreshment. O angelic and superhuman virtue found in menl O inexpressible splendor of a heavenly and eternal servicel Those who receive it contemplate in the flesh what they shall enjoy in immortality, for they choose the better par,t which will not be taken from them but rather will be perfectea in them. What they now preserve by deed inviolate, shall be rendered to them in an increased reward of a glorious immor-tality, u Such, too, is the thought of Pope Plus XlI: This then is the primary purpose, this the principal aim of Christian virginity: to strive solely after divine realities and to turn one's mind and soul to them, to seek to please God in everything, to think of Him eagerly, to consecrate body and soul entirely to Him. It is nothing but love that sweedy impels the virgin to consecrate entirely, her body and soul to the Di-vine Redeemer. With this idea in mind St. Methodius, Bishop of Olympus, places on her lips these charming words: "You Yourself are all things to me, O Christ. For You I preserve myself unta,!nted; to You I run, my Spouse, holding my shining lamp aloft.' It is love for Christ, surely, which prompts the virgin to flee into the shelter of her monastery and to remain there for life to contemplate and love her heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance.~ When she makes her dedication the object of a vow the virgin places herself in a particularly holy relationship to the Trinity she bears in her heart. This holy situation is brought about, first of all, by her more complete self-surrender. She gives to her God not only the acts by which she is pure but also her very being and faculties that are pure. Just as a man does well who gives the fruit of his orchard to a friend, but does even more if he gives the orchard together with its fruit, so a man does well to give the Trinity acts of purity, but if he gives his very being and powers together with his acts he does even more.~a The virgin's self-donation is complete. The virgin's relationship to God is enhanced by vow, secondly, because through her solemn promises she fixes herself permanently in the holy condition of being bound to the fountain of goodness.14 Being bound is not neces-sarily unfortunate. It depends on that to which or to whom one is fastened. Genuine lovers reckon themselves fortunate to be bound to each other in matrimony. When the virgin binds herself to Beauty by vow, she is in an enviable condition indeed. We may note by contrast that just as a mortal sin is tragic, but to be obstinate or fixed in ~1 St. Fulgentius, Letter 3 to Proba, n. 17; P.L. 65:331. = Plus XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 165-7; see also Vatican II, Decree on Religious Li[e, n. 12; Decree on the Ministry and the Life of Priests, n. 16; Constitution on the Church, tan. 42, 44, 46. ~ St. Thomas gives this teaching and example in refcrence to vows in general, 2-2, q.88, a.6 c. It Ibid. + 4- + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it is far more tragic, so also to be pure is angelic, but to be fixed in a pure union with the Trinity is far more angelic.1~ Spiritual Marriage ¯ So intimate is the love relationship between the virgin and God within that the Church has from the firs~ centu-ries seen a supernatural marriage in consecrated virginity. The doctor of virginity, St. Ambrose, fifteen centuries ~go put this relationship in as brief and lucid a gtatement as one could ask: "Virgo est, quae Deo nubit--she is a virgin who is married to God." x0 In the East St. Gregory of Nyssa, himself a married man but a great admirer of virginity, several times uses the expression, spiritual marriage, to refer to the celibate's union with God. Of it he says: "The soul who joins himself to the immaculate Spouse is bound by love to the true wisdom which is God." aT For St. Fulgentius Christ is the one Spouse and crown of all sacred virgins: This is the only-begotten Son of God, only-begotten Son of the Virgin also, the one Spouse of all sacred virgins, the joy, the beauty, the gift of holy virginity. He it is whom holy vir-ginity corporally brought forth, whom holy virginity spiritually marries, by whom holy virginity is made fruitful in order to persevere, by whom it is graced that it may remain beautiful, by whom it is crowned that it may reign gloriously forever.~ This same saint speaks of God "chastifying" or purify-ing the virgin into being His spouse: "Harken to the love of your Spouse in you; reflect on the loveliness of the Lord. The Lord is good in making you His handle/alden. This Spouse is beautiful who has purified you into being His spouse." 19 So truly did the.fathers consider the con-secrated virgin as wedded to God that they bluntly spoke of an unfaithful virgin as an adultress. Said Ambrose: "She who has espoused herself to Christ and has received the holy veil has already ma.rried, she has already, been joined to an immortal Man. Then if she should wish to enter a common marriage, she commits adultery." s0 Augustine's judgment was the same: "If a virgin marries [that is, one only physically a virgin], she does not sin, but if a nun (sanctimonialis) marries, she Will be con-sidered an adultress of Christ." 21 Pope Pius XII pointed ~ Mt 22:30. ~ le De virginibus, bk. 1, c. 8; P2,. 16:203. See also c. 5. 1~ De virginitate, c. 20; P.G. 25:301. rs Letter 3 to Proba, n. 6; P.L, 65:326. l~Ibid., n. 30 his; P.L. 65:336: "Attende igitur in te sponsi tui amorem, considera Domini pietatem. Plus est Dominus, qui te sibi fecit ancillam; speciosus sponsus, quite castificavit in sponsam;" ¯ o De lapsu virginis, c. 5; P.L, 16:373. ~Enarratio in Ps. 83, n. 4; P.L. 37:1058. out that already from the fourth century the Church's rite fdr the consecration of virgins was closely similar to her rit~ for blegsing earthly marriages.22 Even in today's liturgy the sainted virgin is called the spouse of Christ,2a and' the newly composed Mass for the profession cere-mony of religious women has the marriage theme running through it. If the law of praying is the law of believing, it is s!gnificant indeed that the Church has chosen to weave a supernatural wedding thread throughout the virgin's consecration to God.~4 In this most pure and heavenly marriage the virgin fi~ho has left all things for her spouse bears Him in her breast. This union is not only intimate, not only indis-soluble, not only personality-completing; it is a union that cannot be interrupted by death or clouded by the spectre of death. Divine revelation, speaks of God's rela-tiohship to any faithful soul as a wedded relationship, but in an additional way can these statements be understood of the consecrated virgin who will have no lover in her life but'Him.2~ Although Catholic Scripture scholars commonly understand the Song of Songs as expressing the intimate and incomparably beau'tiful love between God and man, it may be applied even more pointedly to this relationship between God and the virgin:2~ My lover is for me a sachet of myrrh to rest in my bosom .As an apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my lover among men. My lover speaks; he says to me "Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!". "Let me see you, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and you are lovely." . Set me as a seal bn your heart, as a seal on your arm; for stern as death is: love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. (Cant. 1:1~; £:8, 10, 14!, 8:6). Indwelling Spiritualizes the Temple Divine m~ste~es are all secret, wondrously hidden. Solne of them, ,.however, "we see (or think we see) more clearly than others. One of the most secret of the divine works is the manner in which the abiding Spirit conse-crates and even somehow spiritualizes the flesh bf His human temple. That He does is a fact of His own telling: ~ Plus XlI, Sa~ra virginitas, p. 166. ~* Vespers of a virgin. a Those who now deny a bridal relationship of the consecrated virgin to Christ should reckon with the fact that they are running counter to the plain'mind of tile Church. ~ Is 54:5,7-8; Song of S, passim; Eph fi:21-3~. We may distinguish in traditional Catholic thought four types of brideship with Christ: the Church, each Christian soul, the advanced soul enjoying the transforming union, the consecrated virgin. It is only the last who can share in all four, ~ The Church herself in using the Song of Songs for the profes-sion of religious women herself suggests that we so use it. + 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 2~, 1~,9 2~ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "They who are according to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit. You, however, are not carnal but gpiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you ¯. Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? It anyone destroys the temple of God, him will God destroy; for holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are." 27 Because the virgin particularly lives according to the spirit and minds the things of the spirit, she especially is spiritual and not carnal. And if she especially is spirit-ualized, it is indeed because the Spirit of God dwells in her. All men are holy and consecrated by this inabiding Fire, but especially is she who by her integral dedication "thinks about the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit." ~s In an eminent manner may we apply to her the remarkable praise the Lord God bestowed on His people: "You were exceedingly beauti-ful, with the dignity of a queen. You were renowned among the nations for your beauty, perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I. had bestowed on you, says the Lord God." 29 Indwelling: Motive for Crystal Chastity If the very flesh of the human temple is sanctified, con-secrated by the presence of the Spirit, we can easily grasp the converse conclusion that this very presence is most fittingly honored by a crystal purity in the temple. When St. Paul comes to convincing the Corinthians of their great need for chastity, he lines up several doctrinal truths and caps them with the divine indwelling. First, the Christian's flesh is not a thing for itself; it is the Lord's: "The body is not for immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body." so Second, this body is to rise gIoriously one day as did the Lord on the first Easter: "God has raised up the Lord and will also raise us up by his power." 3XThird, this body is a mem-ber of the mystical Christ and is therefore to cling to no sinful partner but to the Lord Himself: "Do you not know that your bodies' are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a harlot? By no means[ Or do you not know that he who cleaves to a harlot, becomes one body with her? 'For the two,' it says, 'shall be one flesh.' But he who cleaves to the Lord is one spirit with him. Flee immorality." a~ ~ Rom 8:5,9; 1 Cor 3:16--7. = 1 Cot 7:34. ~ Ez 16:1~-4. ~ 1 Cor 6:13. m 1 Cor 6:14. ~ 1 Cot 6:15-8. Lastly, this body is the very temple of the Holy Spirit bought at the price of the Lamb and thus precious in its value: "Or do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have from God, and "that you are not your own? For you have been bought at a great price. Glorify God and bear him in your body." as The conclusion is clear: rejoice this abiding God by your prayer and your purity. This, indeed, does glorify Him in your body. Indwelling Converse and Virginity It consecrated virginity occupies so singular a place in the supernatural economy that its representatives are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock and are wedded to their God, we should expect that it would be somehow bound up in a unique intimacy with this God. We should expect that the virgin possesses some advantage in con-versing with her Spouse that the non-virgin does not pos-sess. The data of divine revelation bear out our expecta-tion, for St. Paul tells us that together with the undivided heart the reason a virgin is a virgin is that she might pray unimpededly to her Lord: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body andin spirit. Now this I say for your benefit, not to hold you in check, but to promote what is proper, and to make it possible for you to pray to the Lord without distraction." 34 Catholic tradition traces a long history in its apprecia-tion of the relationship between virginity and contempla-tion. Gazing upon the loveliness of the Lord is the virgin's one occupation: When you begin to seek Him, 0 virgin, I-Ie is present, for ¯ it is impossible that He should be absent from those who de-sire Him.Pursue Christ, 0 virgin, in your light, in your holy meditations, in your good works that shine before your Father who is in heaven. Seek Him at night, seek Him in your cell because He comes at night and knocks at your door. lie wishes you to be watching at all times and to find the door of your heart open. See to it, 0 virgin, that you diligently de-vote yourseff to prayer.= Being a life of knowing and loving, consecrated chastity renders the human person more like the divine: The pursuit of virginity, it seems to me, eemarked St. Gregory of Nyssa [himseff a married man], is an art and a power to lead a more divine life and it teaches how we who are bound by the bonds of the body may become similar to spiritual beings. The intent and purpose of this life is wholly = 1 Cor 6:19-20. u 1 Cor 7:34-5. =.St. Ambrose, Exhortatio virginitatis, cc. 9 and 10; P.L. 16:353, 357. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to preserve the loftiness of the soul from being lowered by the onslaught of pleasures and to keep us who should be contem-plating and gazing upon divine and heavenly truth from lapsing into the mere inclinations of the body.8~ Hence, the virginal life is a living for the soul alone and that i~ why it may be termed angelic: the virgin contemplates the Father of perfect integrity and by gaz-ing upon His beauty becomes herself more beautiful: This is to live for the soul alone, namely, that one insofar as he can should imitate the manner of life of those powers who have no bodies, for these neither marry nor are given in marriage. But this is their intent, purpose, and perfect duty: to contemplate the Father of immaculate integrity and as far as imitation is possible to ~nhance their own beauty by gazing on the exemplar of beauty itself,~ From the negative point of view perfect purity makes indwelling converse easy in that it frees a man from the absorbing distractions of bodily pleasures. "If the human mind," writes St. Cyril of Alexandria, "is burdened and immersed in the pleasures of the flesh, it cannot look up to God, nor can it with a fixed gaze contemplate His deeds." as It follows, then, that the virgin's dominating occupa-tion according to the pure stream of Catholic tradition is contemplating the beauty of her Lover. "If therefore you have declined the nuptials of the sons of men from which you would have begotten sons of men," Augustine admonishes her, "love Him with your whole heart who is beautiful beyond the sons of men. You are free, your hearts are untied by the bonds of marriage. Contemplate the beauty of your Lover. Reflect on Him who is equal to His Father and subject to His Mother, ruling in heaven and serving on earth, creating all things, created [that is, human nature] among all things." a~ It is in this finality that we find the root cause for the sublime dignity of the virginal consecration: "That which more effec-tively disposes one for the most noble act is itself the more praiseworthy. But that which most effectively fits one for the act of contemplation--in which the highest purity is needed---is virginity." ,0 St. Thomas writes in the same thought pattern: "For this reason does holy virginity abstain from all venereal pleasure that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contemplation." 41 St. Gregory of Nyssa, De vlrginitate, c. 5; P.G. 25:273. Ibid., c. 4; P.G. 25:273. In lsaiam, 1, orat. 3; P.G. 37:78. De sancta virginitate, c. 54; P.L. 40:427-8. ~°St. Bonaventure, De perlectione evangelica, q.3, a.3: "Quod magis disponit ad actum nobilissimum est laudabilius; sed ad actum contemplationis, in quo requirit~r maxima puritas, magis disponit virginitas." 2-2, q.152, a.2 c: "Ad hoc autem pia virginitas ab omni delec-tatlone venerea abstinet, ut liberius divinae contemplationi vacet." In this light we can appreciate more fully St. Ambrose's charming axiom that "wherever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God," and St. Jerome's judgment that "never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." If the whole raison d'etre of the virginal dedication is a loving contemplation of the Trinity, surely the chaste virgin is both a sign of the indwelling mystery and the person best disposed by state to live it, Sacramentality oI Virginity To appreciate the sign or witness value of virginity we must first touch briefly on the sacramentality of our supernatural economy. In a broad sense of the term, sacrament may be referred to any visible reality that in one way or another proclaims the divine reality. It implies a kind of wedding between the visible and the invisible whereby the latter is declared by the former. In this sense the whole universe is a gigantic sacrament of God for "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork." 42 But the term can have stricter meanings; and it bears the most rich of them when it is applied to the incarnate Word, the sacrament of God. This Sign is the God He proclaims: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God: and the Word was God. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. And we saw his glory--glory as of the only-begotten of the Father4z . In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bod-ily." 44 As the Church sings in her Christmas Preface, "while we know this God visibly we are by Him rapt up to a love of invisible goods." The Church, too, is herself a sacrament of Christ for she is mystically identified with .Him and proclaims Him to the world: "As the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, many as they are, form one body, so also is it with Christ4n.He who hears you, hears me.''46 Sacred Scripture likewise possesses a sacramentality, since as the Word assumed human flesh in Mary's womb, so does He assume human speech in the womb of the hagiographers' minds. Through these human words the Word can make us burn with love for God: "And they said to each other, 'Was not our heart burning within us while he was speaking on the road and explaining to us the Ps 18:2. ISJn 1:1,14. Col 2:9. 1 Cot 12:12. Lk 10:16. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 29 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOus Scriptures?' " 47 The sacramentals, too, are obviously sacramental because they consist in a visible rite that somehow influences a supernatural effect. But most com-monly do we apply the term, sacrament, to our seven sacred signs that themselves produce the grace they sig-nify. In this whole orchestra of the sacramental universe the divine wisdom and goodness and power shine through. Because man is a composed being, he goes to his God by composed means. Man is an invisible-visible unit and so he rises to the fountain of all by invisible-visible sacra-nlents. In this extended sense of the word a virgin is a sacra-ment in her very dedicated person: St. Ambrose recorded sixteen centuries ago that on the occasion of receiving the veil of virginal consecration Marcellina heard the words, "[your Spouse] bestowed on you the pure sacra-ment of virginity." 48 We. think that Ambrose's thought was either that the veil is a sign of virginity or that as Marcellina was being dedicated to perfect purity she became a sign to the world of divine realities, and espe-cially that she became a virgin-sign, that is, a person representing total surrender to the Trinity. St. Gregory of Nyssa likewise saw a kind of sacramental meaning to virginity: "The virginal life.s~ems to be a certain image of that future immortality of beatitude. The virgin enjoys in this life the goods that shall be our supreme good at the resurrection." 49 Though he does not use the word, sacrament, Pope Plus XII c/early taught the sacramentality of virginity when he assigned the terms "image" and "sign" to de-scribe the virgin's witnessing function before the world: It surely, redounds without doubt to the highest glory of virgins that they are living images o[ that perfect integrity by Which the Church is joined to her divine Spouse. For this So-ciety founded by Jesus Christ it is a supreme joy that these same women are a marvelous sign of that flourtshing sanctity and spiritual fecundity for which she is eminent. Cyprian wrote well of this when he said: "They are the flower of that ec-clesial bud, the beauty and adornment of spiritual grace, a reason for our joy, a fresh and untainted work of praise and honor, an image of God corresponding to the holiness of the *~ Lk 24:32. At the turn of the first century St. Ignatius of Antioch already recognizes a special power in biblical words when he speaks of himself as "confugiens ad evangelium tamquam ad corporaliter praesentem Christum"--"fleeing to the gospel as to the bodily presence of Christ" (Ad Phila., 5, 1; P.G. 3:681). ~De virgin(bus, bk. 3, c. l; P.L. 16:219-20: "In te quoque sin-cerum sacramentum conferet [Sponsus] virginitatis." Ambrose was probably here using the term "sacrament" as Augustine defined it: Signa, "cure ad res divinas pertinent, sacramenta appellantur" (Letter 138, c. 1, n. 7; P.L. 35:527). ~° De virginitate, c. 13; P.G. 25:290. Lord, the more illustrious portion of the Lord's flock. The Church rejoices in them and the glorious fruitfulness of this Mother abundantly flourishes in them. The more the number of virgins grows, the more does the joy of this Mother increaseY In what ways is the virgin a witness-sign to the world? Sign o[ God-centeredness The doctrine of the divine indwelling in the souls of the just is undoubtedly a doctrine of God-centeredness. The whole aim of its preparation in the Old Testament and its revelation in the New is to impel men to an intimacy with the triune God. By being so close, so deli-cately close that He is within, he is asking each man to develop the kind of spiritual life that will prompt him sincerely to shout all his days: One thing I ,ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord.As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?~a The consecrated virgin is a sign that man must seek God as his all. Her whole being proclaims that human life must be orientated to the divine alone, for she is what she is precisely that she may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord, that she may unimpededly thirst for Him and be-hold His face. There are two elements involved in a dedicated vir-ginity. The first is a bodily integrity by which one has never committed .a complete and voluntary act against the virtue of purity nor has contracted and used marriage. The virginal body is whole, integral. The second element is the firm and pious will to abstain forever from any voluntary venereal pleasure. The will is firm by its vow and it is pious by its supernatural motive for the vow. Thus an adolescent who has never sinned seriously against chastity is integral in body but does not thereby enjoy the state of consecrated virginity, for even though the material element (b, odily incorruption) is present, the ~o Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 173-4. St. lsidore of Seville long ago saw the virgin as a sign of the Church: "Since the Church her-self is a virgin espoused to one Man, as the Apostle says, how much greater is the dignity of her members who preserve in the flesh what the whole Church preserves in her purpose?" (De ecclesiastids ol~iciis, bk. 2, c. 18; P.L. 83:804-5). Even earlier St. Augustine had said that "the whole Church is called a virgin" Enarratio in Ps. 147, n. 10; P.L. 37:1920. Vatican II, of course, frequently recalls the wit-nessing value of the evangelical counsels. ~1 Ps 26:4; 41:2-3. 4- 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ~.968 31 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS formal.element (the intention of dedicating this integrity forever to God)is absent.5~ ~ The virgin is a sign of God, centeredness as regards both elements in her consecration. Her bodily integrity is'a peaceful and pure self-preservation for Him alone. Her intimate being is a garden enclosed. Her body 'that knows no voluntary disturbance of passion itself declares that God alone can have her, that the indwelling Trinity can abide in the tranquil garden that she, is. Such. is the thought of Paul when he says that "the virgin thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be hol~ in body and in spirit." Her chaste flesh is itself a. sign,: of concern with the Lord. Especially is she the sacred temple of the Trinity: "Holy is the temple of God, and :this temple you are." 5s The spiritual or formal element in th~ virgi.nal con.s.e-cration is likewise a sign to flae world of God-centered-ness. By her firm and pious will to give her heart to no other lover the virgin proclaims to all who will .hear that God alone is the objec.t of her concern and attention. This perpetual resolve declares in a per.fect~ manner the cruciality of God in the Christian life: "Ofie t~hing I ask of the Lord. that I may gaze on the loveliness of the' Lord." 54 It declares that the virgin is a. sign to men that all must love Him with a whole heart; a whole soul, a whole mind. She is a sacrament illustrative of Psalm 118:10: "With all my heart I seek you." To her especially does this God say: "You are precious in my eyes and glorious. I love you." ~ ~ Sign of Indwelling Mystery The divine inhabitation is an interpersonal intimacy between God and man effected by supernatural love and consummated by supematu[al joy: "If you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to dwell with you for-ever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot re~'e.ive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. BUt you shall know him, because he will dw.ell with you, and be in you. If anyone love me~ he will k~ep .my word, and my Father will love hin~, and we will come' to. him and make our abode with him. 2. Abidd ifi my love'.'. These things I have spoken to you that.my ]oy. may be in. you, and that your joy may be made lull. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God .in him r~ Because the religious vow' of chastity is not a vow of gi~ginit~, a non-Virgin~ can become a religious and can even share by her com-plete selLdonation in the sign character of the ~irgin. ~ 1 Cor 3:17. ~ u Ps 26:4. . M Is 43:4. ¯. The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Look to him that you may be radiant with joy. Taste and see how good the Lord is." 56 Yes, our mystery is a love-delight mystery. And such precisely is the virgin's forte. She is a virgin in order to love with an undivided heart, and she receives a hundredfold of love and delight by giving up all for her Spouse: ',Everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or Wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life everlasting. Because she can love unimpededly she can also more easily attain the ofuilness of joy that stems from love: "Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~s Hence, our basic argument is simple: love. for God is closely interwoven with the indwelling mystery; the virgin is a virgin precisely to love; therefore, the virgin as a virgin is somehow woven into the indwelling mystery. She is a sign of it. This same truth stands out from another point of view¯ The divine inhabitation consecrates a persgn, puri-fies and spiritualizes the body: "Holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are. They who are adcording to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit . You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you." ~9 When Paul comes to admonish the Corinthians to live chastely he caps a list of reasons (the resurrection of the body, membership in the Body of Christ, union with the Lord) with an appeal to the divine inabiding: "Do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have fxom God?" 50 Purity and the divine presence are intimately related. Virginity, therefore, as the loftiest type of purity is par excellence related to the indwelling mystery. We may say that the consecrated virgin is the visible sacrament of the indwelling: "Wher-ever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." It follows, then, that the virginal temple enjoys a singular splendor, shines with a' particular beauty be-cause of the Trinity abiding within. Especially true of her is the encomium of Yahweh: "You were exceedingly beautiful, with the dignity of a queen¯ You Were re-nowned among the nations for. your beauty," perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I had bestowed on ~U7J nM 1t 41:91:259-7. ,28; 15:9,11; 1 Jn 4:16; Rom 5:5; Ps $$:6,9. ~1 Cor 2:9. ~ 1 Cot 8:17; Rom 8:5,9. ~ ! Cor 6:19. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968" ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS you, says the Lord God." 01 When she is a religious, her habit likewise shares in the sign character of her consecra-tion, since it proclaims that she is the set-aside property of the Trinity, that the habit encloses a temple beautiful by its tranquil purity. Sign o[ God's Cosmic Primacy The incarnation has wedded the uncreated to the created. It has raised the entire universe to a new level, a new sacredness, a new unity with its Author. All things are restored in the Christ, the Sacrament of God. Yet God still does enjoy a primacy in this new and sacred unity, a primacy by which He infinitely transcends the cosmos, a primacy by which the latter must not inter-fore with His glory, a primacy by which all else is orien-tated to His praise. One of the most radical (in both senses of "root" and "drastic") doctrinal themes in the gospels is the idea of voluntary poverty. It permeates the whole like an atmos-phere and it is so uncompromising that it must come as a shock to anyone who takes it seriously: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it is made fruitless. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where rust and moth con-sume, and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither rust nor moth consume, nor thieves break in and steal. For where thy treasure is, there also will thy heart be . The foxes have dens, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me . Amen I say to you, with difficulty will a rich man enter the kingdom of heaven. And further I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Woe to you richl for you are now having your comfort. Woe to you who are filledl for you shall hunger. Carry neither purse, nor wallet, nor sandals. Take heed and guard yourselves from all covetousness, for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Every one of you who does not renounce all'that he possesses cannot be my disciple. You cannot serve God and mammon." 82 Whatever else these thunderbolts may be, they are not platitudes. Evangelical poverty is mani-festly an exchange of the cosmos for God. = Ez 16:13-4. ~ Mt 5:3; 13:22; 6:19-21; 8:20; 19:21,23-:4~ ;,Lk 6:24-5i 10:4; 12:15; 14:33; 16:13. The virgin is a poverty-~ign. She is a sacrament of the divine primacy in creation. Bodily integrity, of .course, has in itself no obvious connection with poverty, but consecrated integrity in the special supernatural economy in which we live does possess a relationship. This tieup is visible not only in the life of the virginal Holy Family and in the actual structure of the religious life of .the Church but also in the traditional thought of her teach-ers. St. Gregory of Nyssa writes of the fourth-century vir-gins together with his sister, Macrina, that "such was their life that every human v?nity was foreign to them and hence their life closely resembled that of the angels. They found their delight in temperance; they reckoned as their glory to be known by no one and their riches to possess nothing." 6z Pope Plus XII writes in the same vein when he say that a virginity consecrated to Christ is witness to a faith in the kingdom of heaven,~* and when he asks the rhetorical question: Are not sacred virgins who dedicate their lives to the service ¯ of the poor and the sick with no distinction as to race, social position, or religion, are not these virgins intimately united to their miseries and hardships and are they not most warmly attached to the poor as tho .ugh they were their actual mothers? ~ This same truth that dedicated chastity is a poverty-sign of God's primacy is borne out by a consideration of the nature of the dedication. If a virgin gives up a greater good, marriage, for the sake of serving God more effec-tiyely, it is only logical that she will give up lesser goods, material, possessions, for the same reason. She is, there-fore, a sign to the world that God comes first in the uni-verse, that He transcends not only human love but also non-human things. She is a living sign in the flesh pro-claiming to each man by her being: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." ~ Her poverty declares by fact if not by word that "God is my riches." By it she may ask: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am wit.l~ you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of m~] heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." ~ -How is the virgin's poverty made a visible sign of the Trinity's primacy in the cosmos? How does her inner love of the indwelling God and her detachment from things not God appear to the world? Life of St. Macrina, P.G. 25:596. Plus XlI, Sacra virginitas, p. 172. Ibid., p. 178. Mt 22:~7. Ps 75:25-6,28. 4. + 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ].9~B ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 36 First of all, she loves the poor and the downtrodden. She favors them, prefers to serve them because her Master was one of them. The world can see through her involve-ment with the havenots that God, not things are her concern. Sheknows that "he sins who despises the hungry; but happy is he who is kind to the poorl" She is aware that "he who oppresses the poor blasphemes his Maker, but he who is kind to the needy glorifies him." 6s Secondly, in her personal life she is as factually poor as her vocation permits. Simplicity shines out in her manner of life, in her convent, its furnishings, her habit. Her food is plain and she takes it in moderation and detachment. She has gladly deprived herself of superfluities and is a picture of a godly contentment. She has subscribed to Paul's thought: "Godliness with contentment is indeed great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and certainly .we can take nothing out; but having food and sufficient clothing, with these let us be content." 69 She welcomes the sufferings of deprivations when they occur and she is happily satisfied with them according to. the doctrine and practice of the Apostles: "Beloved, do not be startled at the trial by fire that is taking place among you to prove you, as if something strange were happening to you; but rejoice, insofar as you are partakers of the sufferings of Christ, that you may also rejoice with exul-tation in the revelation of his glory. Calling in the apostles and having thdm scourged, they charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and then let them go. So they departed from the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Jesus." T0 She avoids worldly amusements: "Do not love the world," she says to her-self, "or the things that are in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father isnot in him." 71 She is a sacrament that declares to those who will listen: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~z Sign oI Feminine Dignity Since the fall it has been difficult for mankind to allot to woman her proper place in the divine scheme. Even she herself often does not see itand even more often does not live according to it. The virginal temple of the Ho!y Spirit is an existential sermon declaring to the world the Prov 14:21,31. Tim 6:6-8. Pt 4:12-3; Acts 5:40-1. Jn 2:15. Cot 2:9. personal worth of woman before God even aside from her natural maternal function in society. The virgin proclaims in her being woman's great nat-ural and supernatural intellectual value. Historically and aside from the influence of revelation woman has been looked upon largely as a means to man's welfare and pleasure. A naturalistic world lays great stock by her physical beauty when and while she has it and seems to feel that it is her main contribution to society. When after a decade or two her visible attractiveness has waned, interest in one is replaced by interest in another. On the other hand, by her charming modesty and evangelical poverty the Christian virgin is a living witness to woman's worth as an end. She deem.phasizes physical beauty to make the world realize~that it is secondary; that a woman is valuable especially because of her in-tellect and will; that she is a person, not a tool; that she has much to contribute to the good of mankind by her spiritual qualities tinted as they are with feminine traits; that she, too, no less than her male counterpart is es-pecially to spend herself in pursuing God: O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water. Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory, for your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify youY The virgin underlines likewise the fresh beauty of womanly integrity and purity. She asserts in her person the blessedness of the pure of heart, the happiness of those who live an untainted life. She silently proclaims the angelic lot of the elect: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage,' but will be as angels of God in heaven." 74 Even if the virginal temple of the Trinity were never to enter a classroom, never to make an apostolic visit to the poor, never to walk a hos-pital corridor, she nevertheless is a witness to the charm of a pure womanhood and the dignity of unsullied in-tegrity. The virgin is a sign of supernatural motherhood. She has declined a natural fecundity only to embrace a loftier, more universaI fruitfuIness. Like her Spouse, she has come that men "may have life, and have it more abun-dantly." ~ There are, of course, two kinds of birth and therefore two kinds of life to be conceived and nourished: "Unless a man be born again of water and the Spirit, he. cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the ~ Ps 62:2-4. ¢~ Mt 22:30. ~ Jn 10:10. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 37 ÷ 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Spirit is spirit." r8 Somehow God has deigned to .share this supernatural parenthood with ~man, for the latter can say: "My dear children, with whom I am in labor again, unti! Christ is formed in you." 7r The dedicated virgin is a mother; she is a sign of a superior feminine fecundity because her maternity surpasses a natural ma-ternity. 7s The Church implies this superiqrity when she sings on Holy Saturday night: "It would have profited us nothing to be born unless we had also been redeemed." The virgin, then, is a witness to the fact that the ecclesial apostolate can be feminine, that the woman's motherly traits and desires are fulfilled in the supernatural order as well as in the natural. She is once again a sign of feminine dignity. Sign of Love lor M'en To the casual observer the religious is a woman who seems devoid of anything, one might call a living love for men; and yet if she is anything at all to the world, she is a lover of it. We may go so far as to say she is so much a lover of men that she is a sign set up among the nations of how we should love our fellows. Three revealed premises lead us to this conclusion. The first is that the mark that sets the supernatural man apart from his natural counterpart is the Christlike love he has for his neighbor: "By this will all men know [it is a sign] that you are my disciples, if you have love for one an-other." 79 The second is that one is essentially a super-natural man by a double love, for God and for neighbor: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the sec-ond is like it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," s0 The third is that the virgin is of all people the undivided lover of God, and ,hence of neighbor also: "He who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the un-married woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." sl If the love of God and neighbor are inseparable,s2 and if the consecrated x;irgin is wholly devoted to love of .God, she cannot avoid being devoted by profession to love of ~ Jn 3:5-6. ~7 Gal 4:19. ~S,,Truly and solidly does the virgin mother rejoice, for she by her spiritual work gives birth to immortal children" (St. Gregory of Nyssa, De virginitate, e. 13; P.G. 25:289). r~ Jn 13:35. *~ Mt 22:37-9. ~ 1 Cor 7:33-4. ~ 1 Jn 4:20-1. neighbor. And furthermore, if this latter love is the sign of a disciple, she is especially a sign. The history of consecrated virginity confirms our rea-soning process. The pages of the Church's apostolic jour-nal are replete with the extraordinary loves of extraordi-nary women. If actions clamor more loudly than words, we must reckon these consecrated women among the greatest lovers of men the world has seen. Any list must be incomplete, but we need think only of Eustochium, Macrina, Catherine of Alexandria, Clare, Catherine of Siena, Angela Merici, Margaret Marie, Teresa of Avila. The world needs the lofty love these dedicated persons exemplify. Parents easily love their'children on a natural plane, but not so easily on the supernatural. Often na-tions react toward one another on the basis of deception and intrigue, very often on that of a cold diplomacy more or less mingled with justice, seldom with a supernatural love. The world desperately needs the love-sign of the consecrated virgin. She is a fresh flower in a sandy desert. Sacrament of Contemplation "For this reason does a holy virginity abstain from every venereal pleasure, that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contempIation." sn In such manner does St. Thomas summarize Catholic thought on the finality of perfect purity. In the Christian economy one does not embrace chastity to avoid something evil, to shirk re-sponsibility, to attain a natural peace and security. These reasons are either inadequate or plainly wrong. Complete chastity is aimed at peaceful prayer: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord." Just as the virgin is a sign of the primacy of God and of the indwelling mystery itself, so is she a sign that converse with the Trinity is man's primary occupation. The virgin is a sacrament of contemplation for several reasons. Her contemplative love is reserved for God alone: "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him." s~ She has given her heart to no other lover. The virgin rests in God only. Though all men should be able to join the Psalmist in saying, "Only in God be at rest, mysoul," s5 the virgin is most likely to say it and to live according to it. She has given up the comforts of marriage and family. God is her rest and comfort, for indeed He is "the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." s~ s~ 2-2, q.152, a.2. ~ 1 Jn 4:16. ~ Ps 61:6. sa2 (;or 1:3. Vlrginat Temples ÷ ÷ ÷ Thom~ Dubay, $.M~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The virgin delights in God. In her particularly and in ~/lofty manner are fulfilled the sentiments of the Psalmist when he declares: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." s7 She especially o£ all men can say: "Whom else have I and whom else could I want who have All?" She especially can say: "The earth delights me not, and I have proven it by giving up the earth, for You only have I chosen, You only are the rock of my heart and my por-tion forever." She especially is likely to assert: "But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge--I have chosen no other good, no other refuge." ¯ The virgin calmly contemplates her virginal God. St. Gregory Nazianzen back in the fourth century reflected the eastern persuasion of an absolute value in virginity (aside from .its benefits after the fall), when he remarked that "the first virgin is the holy Trinity." ss It is perfectly true that the divine processions are completely without passion or loss of integrity, for the divine nature is the purest spirit. The family joy of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is most pure, most tranquil, most integral, most supreme. The virgin's contemplation is a reflection of it. She gazes on the virginal loveliness of the Trinity purely, calmly, integrally, supremely: "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." S9 She is the sacrament of divine contemplation. Sign of Final Victory The culmination and summation of the sign character of a holy virginity is the body-soul triumph of eternity. Virginity is eschatological. It points not to earth but to heaven, not to time but to eternity, not to the place of struggle .but to that of victory. Of the relatively few men-tions of virginity in the New Testament it is significant that at least three of them refer to the Ultimate triumph. Jesus describes the life of perfegt purity as angelic and heavenly: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage, but will be as angels of God in heaven." a0 St. Paul explicitly ties up detachment with the parousia--or at least with each man's individual death---' and the parousia with the motivation behind a dedicated purity: s~ Ps 72:25-6,28. ss Poema 1; P.G. 21:287-8. s~ Ps 26:4. ~e Mt 22:$0. But this I say, brethren, the time is short; ifremains that those who have wives b~ as if they had none; and thos~ who weep, as though not weeping; and those who rejoice, as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as we see it is passing away. I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit.~ St. John assigns to virgins a select place in the celestial life with the risen Lamb of God: "These follow the Lamb wherever he goes. These were purchased from among men, first-fruits unto God and unto the Lamb, and in their mouth there was found no lie; they are without blemish." 02 What is the final victory and how is the virgin an image ~f it? Essentially the triumph is the beatific vision in a risen body, the face-to-face, supremely delightful sight of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 93 This is the victory of all victories: to attain the ineffable joy of clasping unending Loveableness, Beauty in an unending embrace. The virgin is the sign of this embrace. The vir-gin is the sign of this embrace because even on earth she has begun the embrace in her undivided heart and in the most effective way open to her. 'She is a virgin precisely to contemplate the Trinity. "One thing," she proclaims by profession, "I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." ~4 Her earthly con-templation is imperfect to be sure; it is not intuitive; but it is the beginning of the end. She is a sign of this essential beatitude because her virgina! joys in God are a prelude and sketch of the joys all the children of men shall even-tually have in God when they are neither married nor given in marriage. The otherworldiness of her life of ~1 1 Cur -34. ~ Apoc 14:4-5. It is not clear whether virginity is meant here strictly or metaphorically. ~ 1 Cur 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; 1 Cur 2:9. This last text refers to super-natural wisdom through faith and/or the beatific glory through vision. ~ Ps 26:4. 4. 4. 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 41 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS poverty and purity shouts to men that we have not here a lasting city, that we are a pilgrim people. As we shall note in a later article, one of the accidental triumphs of eternity due to the indwelling Trinity is the victory of the risen body over our passible body: There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also. with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corrup-tion rises in incorruption; what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body. For this corruptible body must put on incorrupdon, and this mortal body must. put on immortality. But when this mortal body puts on immortal-ity, then shall come to pass the word that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victoryl" ~ This splendid victory, this glorious resurrection of the human frame is due to the indwelling presence of the vivifying Spirit: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 06 Though the virgin's body does not yet enjoy supernatural agility, nor immortality, nor brilliance, it does begin to share in the victory to come and it is surely a sign of it. By her consecrated purity she has freed herself from the unruly disturbances attendant on even the good use of marriage and so she is an image of the bodily calm that shall be the lot of all men in the heavenly city. Further-more, the being of all temples of the indwelling Trinity is somehow spiritualized even while they are on earth: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwelIs in you." 0r This burning Fire of love elevates in some mysterious manner the being of fallen men by abiding within. Because of her eschatologi-cal orientation the virgin temple is an apt sign of this incipient purification, elevation, spiritualization effected by the Spirit on earth as a preparation for the complete purification, elevation, spiritualization of heaven. Because she is a sacrament of things to come the con-secrated virgin should be an example to men of the in-carnational detachment so beautifully formulated by St. Paul. She looks and lives for eternity: "We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 0s Because she is living for the risen body and the intuitive vision of the Trinity, she has a taste for heavenly things, not worldly ones: "If you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above," ~1 Cor 15:41-4,58-~. ~Rom 8:11. ~ ,Rom 8:9. ~1 Cor 4:18. she says by her life, "where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth." ~ When we see her religious garb we are reminded that because the time is short, "those who rejoice [are to :be] as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as .we see it is passing away." 100 She teaches us by her set-aside position in the world that our all-absorbing yearning must be finally to. see the face of God: "As the hind longs, for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?" 101 The virgin, then, is a temple of the Trinity, at once in the world but not of it, crucified but refreshed, a lover of men but first a lover of God,~ beautifully plain without but even more beautifully charming within, busy at work but intent on contemplation, occupied on earth but orientated to heaven. For she bears heaven in her breast. (to be continued) ~ Col 3:1-2. ~o 1 Cor 7:30.-I. lox Ps 41:2-3. .4" + + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 JAMES I. O'CONNOR, S.J. Alienation of Manuscripts and Works of Art James I. O'Con-nor, $.J., is professor. of canon law at Bel-larmine $chool of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illi-nois 60542. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Teilhard de Chardin's writings have been receiving considerable attention and study in recent years. Very naturally, this interest in his works has spread to the man himsel[ and his life. Among the events reported about his life is that he consulted two canonists as to whether or not he as a professed religious could lawfully appoint a literary executor to whom he would bequeath his manuscripts and whom he would leave free to dis-pose of them as he saw fit. The report never indicates who the canonists were. Neither is any reason or justifi-cation given for their alleged affirmative reply to Teil-hard's question. Whether or not this story about Teilhard de Chardin has been the occasion, if not the cause, of other re-ligious raising the same or a related question, the fact remains that the issue of the'right of a professed re-ligious to alienate manuscripts he has written is being asked frequently. From this question it is an easy step to another question: May a professed religious alienate works of art created by the religious? Alienation is any act whereby the right of ownership, in whole or in part, is transferred to another person. Thus, alienation is had, for example, by selling the property in question, or by giving it away, or by ex-changing it for another piece of property of like or dif-ferent nature. In all tl~ese instances, the owner has com-pletely surrendered his title or ownership of the original property, whether or not he received anything in re-turn. The basic issue in the question of alienation of manu- \ scripts or works of art produced by a professed religious is whether such an act falls under his vow of poverty or, on the contrary, is it outside the scope of the vow of poverty. Before attempting to answer this question, yet an-other question must be posed: Do the manuscripts or works of art have a money value? For the present, only manuscripts will be considered; works of art will be discussed aRerwards. Manuscripts To the final question above, the Salamanca theolo-gians equivalently gave a very definite negative reply and very strongly defended complete ownership by a religious of his manuscripts. They expressed themselves in this fashion: You will ask whether a professed religious has real control over his manuscripts to such an extent that he can carry them with him wherever he goes, give them away, burn them, or exercise in their regard any other act which are functions characteristic of a proprietor? The reply is in the affirmative, whether the manuscripts are his own or given him by some-body else, whether the result of his own work or that of some-body else. Further, without permission of his prelate, he may dispose of them in view. of.his own death. This is true because manuscripts, inasmuch as they are the ideas of his mind, are something spiritual. Moreover, since the accessory partakes of the nature of the primary, and since manuscripts are acces-sories to knowledge as flowing from it and begotten by it, hnd are an aid to it, therefore, lust as knowledge does not fall under the vow of poverty, neither do manuscripts. As a result, a re-ligious can become their owner. Furthermore and finally, this is true because this is the [~ractice, common usage, and custom even of reformed religious institutes.1 St. Alphonsus Liguori also gave a negative reply to that final question above. He defended his opinion because manuscripts are something spiritual since they are products of one's genius, ,e, ven though elaborated by outside endeavor; and because the3 pertain to the field of knowledge, which does not come under the vow of poverty; and because this is the common practice.--This explains the brief of Benedict XIII that religious who have been promoted to the episcopacy must turn over to their superiors all their prop.ert.y except their manuscripts. Moreover, in Sporer's work, it is stated that Clement VIII expressly declared that religious may, of their own volition, alienate their manuscripts, even without permission. [Contin.] Tournely believes the same thing pro-vided that--in this he agrees with others--other provision is not set down in the constitutions of the order."~ Sporer was a Franciscan Recollect who wrote a work a Collegii Salmanticensis Cursus theologiae moralis (Venice: Pez-zana, 1764), tract. XII, cap. II, punct. XII, n. 195. Note: All translations in this article are those of the author ex-cept translations of canons; these are taken from the authorized English version (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1919). = Theologia moralis (Rome: Typographia Vaticana, 1907), ed. Gaud~, tom. 2, lib. IV, cap. 1, n. 14. Alienation VOLUME 27, ~.968 ÷ ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS also entitled Theologia moralis. To Sporer's writings a supplement to his treatment of the matter of the Ten Commandments was added by Kilian Kazenberger, also a Franciscan Recollect. It is in this supplement that is found the reference made by St: Alphonsus and it reads as follows: It is a highly probable opinion that a religious is master of his manuscripts and that he can dispose of them at will. Writ-ings are, as it were, part of his knowledge and acquired learn-ing. Therefore, just as the religious can take along with him his knowledge and learning or can communicate it to another, so also can he do it with his own writings. These are nothing more than the ideas of a man philosoph!z!ng. As a result, the religious has direct control over his wnungs themselves but only indirect control over the paper, because control over the writings cannot be exercised without paper. And this is why, on the word of Corolianus, Tract. de Casious Resets., p. 2, casu 16, num. 19, Clement VIII declared that religious can alienate their manuscripts without p~rmission, notwithstanding his own bulla on Bestowal oI Properties? The bulla or constitution of Clement VIII referred to is that beginning with the words Religiosae congrega-tiones, 4 dated 19 June, 1594. In it the pope had pro-hibited donations of any kind by reiigious to any per-son outside the religious order and no exception was anywhere made in it for manuscripts written by a re-ligious. While a number of writers state that Clement VIII said that religious retain full ownership over their man-uscripts even to the extent that they also possess the right to alienate them,-nobody, as many later com-mentators point out, offers any proof that Clement VIII ever said what is ascribed to him. One author just re-fers to another author, for example, St. Alphonsus re-fers to the Sporer supplement, which, in turn, refers to Corolianus, but no one gives any data to prove Cle-ment VIII said or wrote anything other than what he set forth in his constitution Religiosae congregationes. The reference to Benedict XIII in St. Alphonsus' commentary cited above does not prove that the manu-scripts of a religious do not fall under the vow of poverty. So far from proving St. Alphonsus' poin.t is the document of Benedict XIII that it proves the con-trary, namely, that manuscripts per se do fall under the vow of poverty. In § 5 of the document, Postulat humili-tati nostrae,5 the pope prohibits any religious promoted ~Patritius Sporer, Theologia moralis: Supplementum theologiae moralis decalogalis (Venice: Pezzana, 1731), cap. II, .sect. III, n. 149. 4 Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 10, pp. 146-50; ed. Mainardi, tom. 5, pars 2, pp. ~I-3. ~St. Alphonsus identifies the document of Benedict XIiI in the place cited in Iootnote 2 in n. 15 in the paragraph beginning "Praefatam autem." The document itself, dated 7 March, 1725, is to the episcopacy or other ecclesiastical dignity from taking with him "books, money, goods entrusted to them or deposited with them, and any kind whatever of movable or immovable goods, except his writings, clothing, and breviary." e The writings or manuscripts of the religious are excepted from all the previous items, all of which certainly pertain to the vow of poverty as do also the other two exceptions, namely, his clothing and his breviary. Furthermore, no authorization is given by Benedict XIII to a religious to alienate his manu-scripts. While, according to the Salamanca theologians and St. Alphonsus, it was the common opinion of the time that manuscripts did not come within the scope of the vow of poverty, there were prominent authors defending the opposite side of the question. Thus Peter M. Pas-serinus de Sextula, O.P., writing in 1663, holds that a religious has no ownership over his manuscripts as far as alienation of them is concerned, although the re-ligious does have the right to use his own manuscripts and to carry them away with him. There were also some commentators who distin-guished between manuscripts which had a money value and those which had no money value but simply served as aids to memory for their authorY The latter type of manuscripts would not form matter of the vow of pov-erty. The dispute as to whether the manuscripts of a re-ligious come under his vow of poverty, especially as regards alienation of them, remained, until the present century, practically as it was at the time of St. A1phon-sus. s In 1911, an indication of the Holy See's viewpoint in the matter appeared in the reply to a question proposed to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "II, If superiors have forbidden the publication of some manuscript, or if the imprimatur has been denied, may religious turn over the said manuscript to some publisher who will publish it with the imprimatur of his [the publisher's] local ordinary and suppress the author's name?" The re-ply given on 15 June, 1911 was: "In the negative." 9 found in Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 22, pp. 129-33; ed. Mainardi, tom. 11, pp. 377-80. ~ Italics are in the original document. 7 De hominum statibus el ol~iciis, q. 186, a. 7, n. 412, referred to in Franciscus X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University, 1933), tom. III, n, 349, b). s A. Vermeersch, S.J., De religiosis institutis et personis (Bruges: Beyaert, 1907), tom. 1, n. 254. ~Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 3 (1911), pp. 270-1; also in Fontes Codicis iuris canonici, n. 4410. Question I of this inquiry had asked if religious in simple vows needed an imprimatur to publish their 4, 4, 4, Al~natlon VOLUME 27, 1968 47 ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Co~nor~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Slightly over two years later, another question was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "Do religious, whether in solemn vows or in simple vows, who have produced a manuscript during the dme of their vows, have ownership of it to such an extent that they can give it away or alienate it by any title whatever?" The full assembly of the cardinals of the Sacred Congregation discussed the question and finally decided: "In the negative." This decision was reported to and confirmed by Pope Pius X on 13 July, 1913.l° Thereafter all commentators maintained that no re-ligious, whether he has solemn vows or simple vows, may perform any act of alienation of his manuscripts if those manuscripts have a money value. On the other hand, the common opinion was that all religious, even those in solemn vows, may retain their own manuscripts for their own intellectual or spiritual life.ix That 1913 decision was embodied in canon 580, § 2 of the Code of Canon Law in the following terms: "What-ever the religious acquires by his own industry., be-longs to the institute." Moreover, the sources of that section of that canon explicitly cite the 1913 decision. As a result, the ownership of manuscripts produced by professed religious and having a money value belong to his community. Consequently, he may not dispose of them without authorization from a superior competent to grant such authorization. A few authors raise some related issues. Thus Coro-nata12 observes and cites a number of other authors as also noting that a religious has no form of ownership over manuscripts which he produced by order of his su-perior and for whose production the community sus-tained special expenses. Another allied question treats of the religious who, when he is near death, pel~onally or through others burns or otherwise destroys his manuscripts. He may be moti-vated to such action by a sense of humility lest his memory be held in honor. Nevertheless, in the objective order, works just as religious in solemn vows. An affirmative answer was returned. l°/lcta ,,lpostolicae Sedis, v. 5 (1913), p. $66; Fontes Codicis itzris canonici, n. 4417. 11Jules Besson, ~'Les religieux et la propri~t~ des manuscrits," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 45 (1913), pp. 709-15; Matthaeus Conte a Coronata, O.F.M.Cap., Imtitutiones iuris canonici, 2d ed., v. I (Turin: Marietti, 19~9), p. 764, note 5; Dominicus M. PrOmmer, O.P., Manuale iuri~ canonici (Freiburg: Herder, 1933), 6th ed., p. 297, q. 223.1; I. Salsmans, S.J., "Annotationes in dubium circa manu-scripta religiosorum," Periodica, v. 7 (1913), pp. 165-8, especially n. 4; Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De ,,eligiosis (Rome: Vatican Press, 1947), 4th ed., nn. 1114-5; Wernz-Vidai, Ius canonicum, n. ~50. ~ In the place noted in footnote 11. commentatorsl~ accuse him of acting badly and of sin-ning. They a/so point out that he shows himself quite un-grateful to his community which provided him with the opportunity and the means to carry on his studies. There also arises the question about manuscripts which were produced by a person before he pro-nounced his religious vows and which have a money value. In the case of solemnly professed religious, these, like other properties, would have to be provided for in his renunciation before his solemn profession (c. 581, § I). Religious with simple vows would retain the sim-ple owners.hip or title to them (c. 580, § 1). Furthermore, if they derive royalties or other form of monetary re-turn from their manuscripts, such monies would belong to the religious and not to the community. This solution follows that given by the Sacred Congregation for Re-ligious in the case of persons who are now professed religious in simple vows but who become beneficiaries of monetary compensations for military service rendered before their religious profession,x4 As for the disposal of such monies, the norms set down in canon 569 would obtain,~5 that is: § I. Before the profession of simple vows, whether temporary or perpetual, the novice must cede, for the whole period during which he will be bound by simple vows, the administration of his property to whomsoever he wishes, and dispose freely of its use and usufruct, except the constitutions determine otherwise. § 2. If the novice, because he possessed no property, omitted to make this cession, and if subsequently property come into his possession, or if, after making the provision, he becomes under whatever title the possessor of other property, he must make provision, according to the regulations of § 1, for the newly acquired property, even if he has already made simple pro-fession. A final question regarding manuscripts by professed religious and the 1913 decision is: Did that decision defin-itively settle the initial question as to whether manu-scripts with a monetary value may not be alienated without due authorization by superiors, because such action would violate the vow of poverty, or, rather, would it violate simply the vow of obedience as being placed against an ecclesiastical law? Some authors point out that the scope of the vow of poverty at times varies somewhat from community to community. Consequently, while manuscripts with a XaF. Plat, O.F.M.Cap., Praelectiones iuris regularis (Tournai: Casterman, 1888), 2d ed., v. 1, p. 242,2; Priimmer, Manuale, p. 297, q.223.1. 2, T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest ]or Religious (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), v. 1, pp. 311-2, questions V and VL 26 Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 1115. Alienation VOLUME 27, 1968 d9 + lames I. O'Connor, Sdo REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS money value may be included under the vow of poverty in one community because of the wording of the con-stitutions, they may not in another community. As a result, these authors believe that the 1913 reply did not definitely decide whether such manuscripts are included under the vow of poverty. Nevertheless, all such com-mentators maintain that the authors of such manu-scripts may not alienate them, whether the root of the prohibition is found in the vow of poverty or in the vow of obedience.1~; As a last word about religious authors and their manuscripts, it may be worth noting that, while this study has been primarily concerned with the surrender of ownership of manuscripts to persons outside the re-ligious institute to which the author belongs, a much milder form of alienation may also be prohibited by constitutions, customs, or superiors even between mem-bers of the same religious body. Consequently, it is not unheard of that between religious of the same institute or even of the same house, general or particular per-mission is required for the donation, loan; or exchange of certain items among which manuscripts may be in-cluded. If there is such a restriction in a given institute, that restriction continues in force until and unless it is duly changed or modified. Works ot Art Under this heading is included everthing which is usually classi

Issue 27.2 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 193 208 223 243. 281 289 THE DEATH oF°.ATHEISM- . Rene H. Chabot,~ M.S. FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO SILE_NCE: .°- Sister Joann Ottenstmer.i P ~ V.M "° ~ INDWELLING: TRANSFIGURING CONSUMMATION~" Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. ~. CLOISTER AND TH'E APOSTOLATE OF R~ELIGIOUS. WOMEN James R. Cain. ~ ~ CELEBRATION~OF THE PASCHAL~MYSTERY: THE:EUCHARIST Christopher Kiesling. O~P. ~. DIFFERENCES BETWEEN PONTIFICAL:-AND DIO.CESAN CON: GREGATIONS Joseph F. Gallen; S.J. -~ 308 MORE ON PRAYER Waltero~l. Paulits. F.S.C. 316 OUR LADY, CAUSEWAY Albert J. Hebert. S.M. 317 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS 321 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS 329 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 344 BOOK REVIEWS EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWEKS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MARCH I968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 2 RENE H. CHABOT, M.S. The Death- of Atheism THE WOUNDED HERO--MAN It is a diffichlt--perhaps even impossible--task to clearly understand the total human situation of man if one abstracts from God's saving and healing redemp-tion. The reason for this lies in the fact that man--the wounded hero--has never been left to himself, not even for one moment, without God's redeeming love reach-ing him, though at times in a most hidden manner. There was never a single moment in the history of fallen man when he was not in the hands and care of the Healer of all wounds. However, just as a sick person, convalescing from his illness with the help of medicine and doctors, precisely because he is in the process of re-covering and, therefore, not yet in possession of his former health, continues to manifest the nature of his illness thereby making it possible for his doctor to con-jecture what his situation might have been without the medical help he is now receiving, so too, man, because he is not yet fully redeemed and is still in the process of recovering, enables one to discover, or at least surmise, the depth and seriousness of his original illness. Though our fallen hero has never been without the soothing effect of God's healing love, his wounds are clearly visi-ble and one can conjecture what his situation (without any help from the outside)might have been. Such a ~onjecture of man's situation after the fall, abstracting from God's healing grace, will be expounded in the words that follow. An explanation will also be offered why, given such a situation, man finds it diffi-cult to believe in the existence of God, and, at times,' even rejects the possibility. Understanding the situation of our wounded hero will enable one to see better why he rejects, pure love and will also give one a greater comprehension of Christ's mission and, therefore, the mission of the Church--to make God credible to [allen humanity. + Father Rene H. Chabot, M.S., is a member of the La Salette Fathers; La Salette Shrine; At-fleboro,~ Massachu-setts 02703. VOLUME 27, 1968 , REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Wound Although possessing an "exalted dignity, since he stands above all things," as was so strongly emphasized in the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, man has been severely bruised and deeply wounded. Fallen man is indeed a very sick man. This sickness can best be described as a deep-seated self-centeredness. Fallen man is profoundly inclined to selfishness. True love--the love for an other for himself, or, as other-- does not come to him naturally. When he loves, he easily makes himself the object of his love; thus the other is loved for what the one loving can obtain and is, there-fore, not loved but "used." Such easy-coming self-centered-hess is, undoubtedly, the most basic and lasting effect of man's original mistake--a mistake which was de-. cidedly a refusal to turn toward the Other and others as such in preference for a total turning to self. "Man set himself against God and sought to attain his goal apart from God. Although they knew God, they did not glor-ify Him as God, but their senseless minds were darkened and they served the creature rather than the Creator" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 12). The whole of mankind suffered a traumatic experience from this original turning to self. Even with Christ's healing power at work from the very first moment of need, the wound of fallen man is still easily recognizable. True love does not come naturally to man. Few people have learned to love totally and without reserve. Such a love is indeed the rarest and the most difficult of human achievements. Those who have achieved this love are very much aware of the constant and at times crucifying purification which necessarily preceded it. They are also aware that they could not have achieved this love by themselves without the help from someone else. Because of his wound, fallen man finds it natural to turn inward to-wards self and away from the other. Our wounded hero, alongside with his basic greatness and dignity, is "nat-urally" selfish. "Indeed, man finds that by himself he is incapable of battling the assaults of evil successfully, so that everyone feels as though he is bound by chains ¯. Sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-ment" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 13). Attitudes Which Result from Man's Wound Certain attitudes emerge from this basic and congeni-tal self-centeredness of man which, if left alone and un-controlled, may ultimately lead him to reject the real God and/or create his own. These attitudes are indeed very deeply etched in man's psyche. God's redeeming love has to some extent, and, in some rare cases, al- most totally, corrected them. However, in those instances where they are the rule rather than the exception, these attitudes clearly show how far they could lead man with-out the redeeming love of Christ. These attitudes are intimately linked with and the direct result of man's basic wound of selfishness and self-centeredness. They, in turn, as previously stated, tend to have man reject the one person who could heal him completely, thereby creating a kind of vicious circle. It is of extreme importance that one understand the situa-tion of fallen man in order to grasp why and how these attitudes stem from his own basic selfishness and, as a consequence, tend to have him reject the one true God. Such an understanding will place one in a more favor-able position to recognize the many forms of atheism in the modern world and why it exists in the first place. It will also give one a clearer vision--a deeper insight-~of Christ's mission as the physician of fallen man (see the Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 5). The Council fathers have recognized the seriousness of atheism in the modern world: "Many of our contemporaries have never recog-nized this intimate and vital link with God, or have ex-plicitly rejected it. Thus atheism must be accounted among the most serious problems of this age, and is de-serving of closer examination" (The Church in the Mod-ern World, n. 19). In order to prescribe the proper medi-cine capable of. healing a particular illness one must recognize the symptoms. Why is it that fallen man tends to reject God? How can we who are the prolongation of Christ the physician continue His mission of making God credible to the modern world i£ we do not first understand why and how He is rejected by man? A knowledge of the natural consequences of man's selfish-ness is of primary importance if one is to extend in his own life the healing influence which Christ personally brought to the world and which He now wants to bring to this world through His Church of today. Suspicious of True Love in t.he Other Normally, there are many subjective aspects in our evaluations--the way we think and feel does undoubt-edly condition and influence our decisions and judg-ments. (This, of course, does not mean that one cannot be objective in his judgment. After all, subjective and objective are not to be considered as either-or opposites.) However, personal attitudes and feelings should be, as far as is possible, in accord with the objective truth; otherwise, there will arise a great disparity between sub-jective and objective. If, for example, due to his narrow and biased up-bringing, a Person does not feel attracted to negroes, Death of Atheism VOLUME 27, 1968 19.~ M.~. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS ]96 perhaps even harboring antipathy towards them, he will, most likely, disassociate himself with them. His subjective attitude, in this case, will have completely overshadowed the objective truth. Fallen man, observing that others live in somewhat similar situations as he, has a tendency to identify the evaluations and judgments of others with his own. If, for example, he is not at-tracted to the negro, he will, more often than not, be-lieve that other white people in his particular town, city, or country feel the same with reference to the negro. If reality shows him that there are some people who, although they are of the same color and live in the same vicinity as he, are in fact willing to associate with the negro, he will then question the genuineness of this as-sociation. He Will immediately look for ulterior motives, knowing that these motives would be the primary tea- ¯ son for his own association with the negro. Let us apply the above to the .situation of our wounded hero: Due to his deep wound caused by his original Fall, man very easily and "natur.ally" experiences himself as selfish and self-centered. In other words, man experi-ences his own sickness even if, most of the time, he does not consciously consider it as a wound which should not be thei~e. As a result, he projects to others the same kind of basic selfishness which he finds in himself. His thoughts of the other are most likely--"He must be as selfish as I he's out to get what he can from people--I don't trust him, he undoubtedly wants to use me." Fallen man arrives at this conclusion about the other even before meeting him. The other will have been judged as basically selfish and, therefore, not truly capa-ble of loving, for the simple reason that he has been judged according to the experience of the one judging. Add to this man's actual experience of meeting the other. His original projection is substantiated; the other is indeed selfish---he, too, is a wounded hero seeking in all things and in all people his own perfection and self-aggrandizement. Encounter for him is also a meeting of self and not of other~ Such experiences will naturally strengthen man in his conviction that true lovemthe love that seeks only the other for his own sake expecting nothing in return-- cannot possibly exist. This conviction is the result of his own life experiences and not based on any kind of abstract' or speculative 'thinking on his part. Fallen man :does not easily believe in goodness because he has not and does not experience it. It is hard for him to accept as real that. which, he does ,,not personally experience either in himself or in others whom he meets. ~Even with Christ's healing love at work, this unbeliev-ing~ attitude is still ,very" evident. People are so easily suspicious of the kindness of others. Their first reaction to this kindness, interiorly at least, could very well be: "Now what does he want--what's he up to?" If these questions are left unanswered, unbelief continues to sur-vive because they conclude that the ulterior motives prompting the act of kindness are of the type which are not immediately visible. Because he has been seriously wounded and has not yet been fully redeemed, man has difficulty in accepting the reality of true love. Though the doctor has come and has to some extent ar-rested the sickness, man continues to experience the ef-fect of his original wound because he has not completely recovered, Fearful of Being Loved There is yet another consequential attitude which the wounded hero develops from his experience of self-cen-teredness and that is the fear, at times even a deadly fear, of being loved.~To fallen man, self-sufficiency is identified with being, being free. This is but another aspect of his self-centeredness. Consequently, his search for fullness of being is identified with his search for self and total sufficiency. Identifying fullness of being with independence, he automatically rejects that which would call for dependence, that is, pure love. He is so fearful of love that at times even prior to his experiencing it, through a process of rationalization, he will go so far as to deny its possibility, and, therefore, its existence. One can easily refuse to acknowledge that which threatens his very existence. The sorrowful side of this situation is that fallen man, left alone without the healing love of God, cannot change his false identification of being and freedom with self-sufficiency. There is so little true love around him that he cannot experience the healthy kind of dependence which comes from being loved by another. Only the experience of true love is capable of erasing these erroneous attitudes from his mind and replacing them with a healthy outlook towards God and man alike. As his former attitude towards love is a result of a per-sonal experience, so also his new attitude will come only as a result of experienci,hg a new and different love, a love which, while creating [a certain dependence, is ca-pable of and necessary for bringing him to his greatest freedom and fulfillment. Without this new attitude, man rejects love because of his fear of it, fearing it because he identifies it with losing his freedom and being. As mentioned previously, this false identification is rooted in his experience of himself as a self-seeking individual. Even with the presence of God's healing grace, evi-dence of this fear of being loved is constantly present. We are afraid to be loved. If, for example, someone Death of A tlt~sm VOLUME 27, 1968 197 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 loves us and chooses to express his love with a gift, do we not often feel obliged to return this favor by another favor? A sincere "thank you" appears to be too little, but "another favor" would at least reach the level of "equal." To simply say "thank you" is in fact admitting and accepting to be dependent on someone else: it is accepting the dependence of love. By returning the favor we seem to become free again--we are no longer obliged. Such a manner of behaving clearly demon-strates that our sickness is a lingering one and we are still on the rugged road of recovery. The symptoms of the illness are still very visible. Naturally, one should love the one who loves him but should not feel obliged to return his gift with another. If he returns the favor only to relieve the feeling of obligation, he is not truly loving the one who first loved him, but loving himself in that he is actually seeking his own inde-pendence and welfare--seeking it in a way, however, which will not give it to him, but, on the contrary, will make him a slave of his own desires. The Rejection of God From what has already been said, it seems rather evident that our wounded hero's attitudes and feelings toward God have been profoundly conditioned and in-fluenced by the traumatic experience of his original act of selbcenteredness, the effects of which experience live on in each of us. Fallen man normally tends to reject the reality of an all-loving God who seeks nothing for Himself in loving man but loves man for his own sake. This rejection stems from the fact that he does not experience in and around himself the reality of goodness or of true love. His unbelief is further nurtured by the failure of the world in which he lives to make God credible to him in an existential way--notwith-standing, of course, the intellectual and more abstract capacities to prove the existence of God. The existence of such a God is not easily accepted by man because pure love seems to be in direct opposition to his daily personal experiences. He will often accept and believe in a god or in God, but not primarily in a God who is known and accepted first and foremost as a loving God. Man will accept more readily ~i just God, a jealous God, a vengeful God, but not so readily a loving God. Our fallen hero simply cannot naturally accept the reality of such a God. Existentially speaking, then, such a God is not credible to fallen mankind. Due to his innate fear of being loved, the wounded hero shies away from such a God, for to encounter Him and accept to be loved by Him is tantamount to a complete giving up of one's life--remembering al- ways that life to him is synonymous with independence. To accept to be loved by God is to accept also total dependence. Fallen man cannot naturally accept such dependence without at the same time--in his way of feeling and thinking--losing his own freedom and ful-fillment. The true image of God thereby becomes a threat to fallen man. To offset this threat, man will either reject Him completely in militant atheism, simply ignore Him, or diminish the threat by emphasizing the justice of God and so forth, and not His total and absolutely pure love. If man were to accept consciously and without fear the total dependency on God's pure love, he would no longer be a wounded man but a fully recovered patient. However, our thoughts are presently concerned with the wounded man who, as a result of his condition, will readily deny the existence of a pure all-loving God, or, if he does accept the existence of God, will feel obliged to do something in return. He will offer sacrifices to God to "make up" for all that God has done. This can be a very subde form of rejecting dependency on an all-loving God. Love for God should not be motivated by a sort 0f favor-for-favor kind of attitude. Such an attitude transmits one's hidden de-sire to remain free of God, to remain independent of Him. It is an indirect rejection of the reality of an all-loving God. Fallen man--self-centered as a result of his wound-- is perfectly conditioned to reject a priori the reality of a loving God. His wound is so penetrating that it clouds his vision and prevents him from seeing at an existential level the God of love. Yet, if he is to be healed, if he is to regain that health which was his at the beginning, man must believe in such a God and center his whole life on Him. The situation of fallen man does seem to be an impossible one---one from which he must be extracted if he is to ever recover. He must have help to accomplish that which he cannot be alone and that help can only .come from the God whom he so easily denies. Only He who is pure love fully realizes man's predicament and undertakes to make Himself credible to His unbelieving creature--to this man who is seemingly so perfectly conditioned never to believe in Him. Thus we enter into the realm of Christ's salvific mission. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE OF GOD THROUGH CHRIST Christ is the sacrament of God, or, as St. Augustine wrote: "There is no other mystery of God than Jesus Christ." Here, the word "mystery" is equivalent to'sac-rament or sign. Therefore, Christ's mission is basically .!- + VOLUME 27, 1968 ]99 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20O that o[ being a witness. But what is a witness? W~nat are the exigencies proper to being a witness? Two things immediately come to mind: (1) That which is to be witnessed or signified It is not enough simply to be a witness. One could be a witness o[ stupidity or of selfishness--the world is not in need of such wit-nesses. Because Christ isa sacrament, His whole life was meant to be a sign, but a sign of what? True, He was a sign of God, but most particularly under what aspect? One must be aware of what Christ exactly in-tended to witness. (2) For whom is the signification meant?--The very word "witness" implies that someone is present to observe the sign given. One is a witness to someone, therefore, to people who live in very par-ticular situations and circumstances. For one to be a true witness, he must be understood by the people to whom he is a witness. He must know them and so arrange his sign that they are capable of "reading" him. He must do this in such a fashion that, even i£ they do not immediately "read" him, they will at least stop, listen, and ultimately either accept or reject that which he is witnessing. If Christ is the sacrament, it is important that one consider the persons to whom He is a witness. Christ, the Sacrament of Love Christ's mission was to reveal to the world the reality of love. Here, "to reveal" means more than making God's love known by a purely intellectual didactic teach-ing of His love. Christ gave to the whole world, but first and foremost to those around Him, to those with whom He lived, to those who could see Him, touch Him--in a word---to tho~e who could experience Him, a personal encounter with love, an encounter with some-one who loves totally---one who is comple~61y selfless and in no way whatever seeks anything for himself. Christ's role was to make the God of love credible to those people who were able to directly experience Him. We have seen how fallen man was naturally suspicious of the mere possibility of true love and fearful at the same time of being loved. It is only by experiencing pure love, that is, by meeting, on an existential level, true love, that one can rediscover his belief in a God of love. Certain attitudes and fears can only be over-come by personally experiencing the contrary of these attitudes and fears. Christ gave those around Him the opportunity to meet pure and total love. The sacra-ment of love came precisely to make God credible to all who met Him by living a life o[ total and dedicated selfless love. Christ the Sacrament for the Wounded Hero Christ's mission was not only to witness love, but to witness it in such a way that fallen humanity could understand and read Him. The human situation of man, as mentioned before, is quite unique. Our wounded hero is not neutral in reference to the possibility of love--he is not open as far as believing in the existence of love. The scars of his wound have left him piejudiced to the contrary. If one wishes totruly grasp Christ's witnessing of true ,love, it is .necessary that he first understand the situation of fallen humanity. Christ did not witness the love of His Father as in a vacuum, but to people living in a very particular situation--He witnessed to fallen humanity. In another situation~ne where man had not experienced the deadly wound of selfishness--he undoubtedly Would have been more open to the reality of God, and, consequently, would have more easily recognized true love. That which might have been a clear sign of love in another situation was not in fact a clear sign of selflessness to the existential and historical man. Christ's witnessing of His Father's love, therefore, must be understood in the context of the historical [allen man. The sacramental value of Christ's life was for man as he existedmnot for man as he might have existed, as he existed before the fall, or for man as he will exist after the completion of the redemption. Too often we disassociate Christ's sacra-mental life from the existential reality of fallen man-kind. This often happens at the level of the Church and religious life. It is not enough to speak of the Church and of religious life as signs. The sacramental value of both must be related to the reality of the world of the here ~nd now. Is the Church and religious life a sign to this world, a sign that this world can read? What might have been a valid and true sign in the past might no longer be understood today. If such is the case, both the Church and religious must learn more about the world in which they live in order that they may be a more living witness to the world of today. Of what value are they as witness if the world, because of its attitudes, cannot read them? God, in sending His only Son to witness to the world the reality of His love, took into account the existential reality of man. His sacrament (Christ) was commensurate with man as he is, not as he was, will be, or might have been. The Signs of Selfless Love To a world which leans towards attributing ulterior motives to every act of kindness, which experiences selfishness in loving or in being loved, there could be ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 20! ÷ Rene H. Chabo~ M.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS no greater testimony of real love than the love which seeks only to give--receiving nothing and expecting nothing in the very act of loving. Such a witnessing of love by Christ necessarily had to take on some very particular modalities due to the special circumstances in which fallen man found himself. Christ, therefore, chose to love and actually receive nothing in return. Such a .love shocks the unbeliever, but he cannot deny the personal experience he has in meeting such a love. As much as he might try, he cannot see any possible ulterior motives in such a love. This explains "why Christ,' in loving the world, chose to receive nothing in return, thereby giving the world the experience of a selfless love. It was the actual self-emptying of Christ in the act of loving which gave the experience of love to those who knew and met Him. A love which had not been expressed by such a self-emptying could not have carried this world to God. A world which was so deeply egocentric could not have been led to a God of pure love without the visible witnessing of a self-emptying love. Christ was that wit-ness. Christ gave to those who experienced Him loving "to the end" a personal encounter with a selfless God, an encounter with the God of love. It is only in the context of a self-emptying love--which love was neces-sitated by the actual situation of fallen man--that one can appreciate those aspects of His life which are given particular emphasis: (1) His extraordinary preoccupa-tion for the poor; (2) His martyrdom; and (3) His virginity. Christ and the Poor "Blessed are the poor." Christ, of course, loved all men, rich and poor alike; He died for all men, the haves and the have-nots. But first and foremost he wanted to be identified with the Poo~. Why did He choose to be so identified? In order that the purity of His love--God's love--might be more visible to fallen man. The poor could not give Him anything in return, they could not visibly recompense Him for His care and solicitude. In other words, through His identifica-tion with the Poor He could more easily witness to the poor and rich alike that He had not come to love only those who could receive Him well, who could discuss intellectual issues and world problems with Him, or who could entertain Him. His mission as witness was to show the world that pure love is a reality--that God is a reality and that He had not come for what the world could give Him. He came only to give---only to love. His identification with the needy, both the physical and spiritual, was indeed a most beautiful emptying o~ self. It is significant to note that such a preoccupation for the poor was a sign to both the rich and the poor. Christ thereby witnessed to the rich that He loved them in themselves, purely, that is, and not for what they could give Him. If Christ had identified Himself first and foremost with the rich, the powerful, the influential, He would not have been able to give the fallen world, with its selfish attitude and suspicion of the mere possibility of true love, a clear testimony of divine love. The existential circumstances of those to whom one desires to witness must always be considei:ed; other-wise, the witness stands alone and that which he is a sign of remains forever hidden. The Death o[ Christ Christ's witnessing of His Father's lov~ was necessarily conditioned by the historical situation of fallen hu-manity. A true sign or witness is the one which can be understood by a particular person living in par-ticular circumstances. Fallen man is basically suspicious of the reality of love; thus, to him, the ultimate proof of love is to visibly see one who not only receives nothing in the act of love, but actually loses what is his by birth--his life. There is no greater expression of love to a man who, because of his deep attitudes and experiences, doubts that love is possible. Christ's death was precisely that unique testimony of love; it was indeed the greatest manifestation of God. Those who personally experienced Christ and His giving of His life for others experienced true love, thereby experienc-ing also the God who is pure love. By making love credible to man, Christ made God credible. This was the total self-emptying of the Son of Man. It is no wonder., that "the Church then considers martyrdom as an exceptional gift and as the fullest proof of love." Christ's death, therefore, was the fullest and strongest rebuttal to fallen man's suspicious attitude about God. It was that which could, more than any other proof offered, counteract his natural (natural, be-cause of his sin) tendency to universalize selfishness to the extent of denying the very existence of God. In His death, Christ became the clearest proof of the existence of God. Christ, the Virgin It is in the same context of witnessing true love to fallen humanity that one can understand and appreciate the meaning of Christ's virginity. As already empha-sized, the greatest proof of tota! and unselfish love is that one be not only willing but does in fact give his life (in the sense of losing it) in the very act of loving 4- 4. .4" Death oy Atheism VOLUME 27, 196S 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Rene H. Chabot, M.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the other. This is even great~er than receiving nothing in return. After one's own life, the next greatest emptying of self---the next greates.t sign of lovemis to love and not receive the highest good after self--the "other self," namely, a spouse and children. The greatest sign of . love after martyrdom, then, is that of virginity. Christ's virginity was to fallen man an .added proof of God. As in the case of martyrdom, Christ's virginity was a sign of true love only because He valued the goods of marriage very highly. A so-called martyr who does not value his own life is not a true witness of love. So, too, the virgin who does not highly value the goods which he has sacrificed is not a true witness of. God and not a true virgin for the kingdom of heaven. THE EXl'E~ENCE OF GOD IN AND THROUGH THE CHURCH The whole of Christ's life--but especially His martyr-dom, virginity, and poverty--was, to a world steeped in its own self-centeredness, a living proof of the reality of love. Christ's life was to those who knew Him personally--the first Christian communityma reality which they personally experienced. Such an experience counteracted their natural suspicion of the reality of goodness and thereby made the God of pure love credi-ble to them. But what about all the future generations ~those who would come after Christ? Are they to only know of Christ? Are they simply to be told of Christ's great witnessing of love at a given moment in history? Is it sufficient for one who himself is wounded simply to know that someone in the past has truly loved? Is Christ's witnessing of love to be a genuine experience for some and just a memory for others? Is His witnessing limited to the historical Christ? All of mankind has been deeply influenced by the original fall and, as a consequence, all are marked with the scar of unbelief---unbelief especially in a God of love. To remedy this situation, it is not sufficient that one know of goodness, but that one actually experience goodness, that one meet goodness in an existential way. This means that i[ Christ's witnessing of true love was in-tended for the whole world--and it was--it is necessary that somehow the whole world be given the advantage of experiencing Christ in a way which goes beyond knowing of Him. One must experience true love as the first Christians did. In the world of the here and now, the historical Christ cannot a~hieve this. That which the historical Christ did for those who could experience Him, the risen Christ must now continue in time and place that all may have the privilege of per-sonally experiendng true love and come thereby to believe in the reality of a God of love. This is the mission of the Church. The Church Thanks to the renewal of ecclesiology in recent years, and, more specifically, thanks to the great work of Vatican II, the Church has become more clearly aware of herself and of her mission, which mission is one and the same as the mission of Christ. The Church must preach the Gospel. To spread the "good news," how-ever, it is not su~cient to preach of Christ--to remind the People of the "historical" Christ. To be sure, they must be keenly aware of the great event of Christ, but the Church must do more than remind the world of Christ. Such a knowlege is not an experiential knowl-edge and cannot counteract the world's experience of selfishness. The Church must, like Christ, give this mod-ern world the experience which Christ gave to those who met Him in Palestine--the Church must give to all who know her and meet her the experience of true selfless love, of a love that seeks only to give. This world, like all men of all times, is a wounded world and in dire need of personally experiencing true and genuine selfless goodness. Without such an experience, this world will not easily believe in God. The Church must make God credible by her total self-giving. Considering the actual situation of fallen man, she will not convince him that love is a reality without an actual self-empty-ing in the very act of love. What has been said of Christ as witness applies also to the Church. Indeed, through the Church, it is the risen Christ who continues His witnessing of love. It is Christ Himself who con-tinues to live on in His Church; it is Christ, therefore, who continues through the Church to make God credi-ble to the world at an existential level. The Church can hide the face .of GOd by not willingly accepting its tremendbus mission of total self-emptying for others. It must be emphasized that all Christians are caught up in this mission of making God credible by witnessing love and selfessness to a world suspicious of love. Every Christian must be willing to love the other,, receiving nothing in return, and, if necessary, losing what he has in order to more clearly demonstrate to this world the reality of love. No doubt there are, within the Church, different' charismatic vocations concerning thi~ witness-ing of God's love. All, however, are committed to .wit-ness .love wherever they are and in whate~;er activity they are involved. ,' ' ' . VOLUME 27° 1968 " 205 Rene H. Chabot, MS. REVIEW FeR RELIGIOUS Religious It is only within this context of the Church as a wit-ness of the selfless love of God that one can truly appreciate and understand the meaning and richness of religious life. The religious must be a witness of love--an outstanding witness. To be an outstanding witness to a fallen world, the religious must love with a selbemptying love, that is, he must actually not re-ceive and even lose what he has in the very act of loving. This explains why a religious must live a truly self-emptying way of life. As seen in the historical ob-servation of Christ's life, next to martyrdom, the greatest self-emptying and, therefore, the clearest witness of pure love, is the life of virginity. All three vows are meant to help the religious witness love in a most beautiful way to the fallen world, but, above all, the vow of chastity does so. In order, therefore, for a religious to understand his particular way of life, and more es-pecially his life of virginity and identification with the poor, he must at all costs understand that he is first of all for others and must witness to them in an "outstand-ing" way the reality of God's love. This presup-poses, then, that he has understood the existential sit-uation of modern man, of fallen humanity. His wit-nessing cannot be in the abstract, but, rather, to man as he exists. Man as he exists is self-centered. He must experience true love by meeting people who love in such a way that they receive nothing in return, and, if love so demands, lose what is theirs by right in the act of loving. The religious is one who is called to witness this self-emptying love in a unique manner-- especially and more clearly through a life of chastity. To the extent that the Church and religious are faith-ful to their vocation and mission, to that same extent will God be made credible. The opposite is also true, for to the extent that they fail to live out their voca-tion, to that same extent also will they "have more than a little to do with the birth of atheism., and conceal the authentic face of God and religion" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 19). .Only when unbelief encounters love will the death of atheism take plac.e, only then will its ugly head be crushed, never again to cryu"Th~re is no God." This meeting will some day take place, for man, in whom unbelief exists, was created by and for the One who is love. It is inevitable that their paths should cross. The "heirs of the kingdom" must do all in their power to insure that this meeting takes place here below. Christ is their power, and through them the sign which He came to give must shine forth for all to see. They must be persevering in their efforts, for encounter might even be delayed until the "eleventh hour." Atheism ~,ill not die without a battle. Its greatest opponent will be the living proof, given by the historical Christ and continued in the risen and mystical Christ, that love without any strings attached, a love that is willing even to cut off the last thread of life to prove its sincerity, has existed in the past and continues to exist here and now. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 2O7 SISTER JOANN OTTENSTROER, P.B.V.M. A Position Paper on a Functional Approach to Silence One of the common elements to be found in the rules of the various religious orders in the Church down through history is silence. Today when each aspect of religious life is being rethought in the light of the modern milieu it seems right that silence should also be reexamined. In many areas of religious living modern needs and changing circumstances demand a different emphasis or viewpoint than have been used in the past. It has been suggested by Donald L. Gelpi, S.J., that this new approach should be a functional one, that is, one which has a practical purpose in mind. It is possible to apply this idea of functionalism to silence. In exploring this possibility the most fundamental starting point is Scripture. A scriptural view of silence reveals the most basic rea-son for silence, that of providing an atmosphere con-ducive to a deep personal relationship with God. In the 01d Testament silence of itself does not stand out as a theme. It is always related to prayer or awe of the Almighty. Instead of being commanded to keep silence the Israelites are often commanded to speak: "Take to + heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill + them into your children. Speak of them at home and ÷ abroad, whether you are busy or at rest" (Dt 6:67). Sister Joann O~- Silence in the life of Christ is also related to His tenstroerisaf~u.'ul~ periods of prayer: "And when he had dismissed the rnernb~ of Sacred crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray" Heart School; Aber-deen, South Dakota (Mr 14:23). "Now it came to pass in those days, that he 57401. '. , " ¯ went out to the mountain to pray and continued all REVlW¢ r0R~EL*e.n1i0gUhSt iwnh penra Cyherri stto f eGlto tdh"e (nLeekd 6 f:o1r 2s)il.e Intc cea Hne b wei tnhodtriecwed f rtohmat 208 those around Him. He did not impose His need for silence upon others but rather showed them by His example that a man needs frequent periods of time alone with his God if he is to learn to know and love Him in a deep, personal way. The few times when it is specifically recorded that Christ kept silence in the presence of others He was using it as a rebuke or a seeming rebuke. This can be seen in His refusal to answer Pilate and Herod: "But Jesus gave him no answer" (Jn 19:9). Now he put many questions to him, but he made him no answer" (Lk 23:9). The Canaanite woman certainly felt this rebuke as Christ tested her faith: "He answered her not a word" (Mr 15:23). So also did the men who had accused the adulteress while forgetting their own guilt. The appli-cation of this use of ~silence to the life of a Christian would of necessity be rare since the all-pervading spirit of a Christian, as it is of Christ, is love and joy, not rebuke. When Christ speaks of the use of the tongue it is mainly an encouragement of the correct use of speech, to praise God, to greet all not just friends (Mt 5:47), to preach the good news; or it is a warning against the misuse of speech. Thus He warns: "But I tell you, that of every idle word men speak, they shall give account on the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be cbndemned (Mt 12:36-7). It would not be correct to conclude from this warning that Christ expected His followers to abandon the use of their tongue in order to avoid idle words. A more logical conclusion would be that He expected His followers to use their speech to communicate the spirit of brotherhood which He had given them. As Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., has said: "Perhaps we need to be reminded that nothing is idle which conduces to charity." 1 Like their Master the writers of the Epistles encourage the proper use of speech and warn against its misuse: "Let no ill speech proceed from your mouth, but what-ever is good for supplying what fits the current necessity, that it may give grace to the hearers" (Eph 5:29). "Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly: in all wisdom teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing in your hearts to God by his grace" (Col 3:16). "Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. These things, my brothers ought not to be so" (Jas 3:2). James fully recognizes the. difficulties which a Christian encounters as he tries to live out this positive use of his speech to bring joy rather than pain to others. However, 1Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., "On the Art of Small Talk," REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 766. + + + Alflrroach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 SistePr~ ]Boa.Vnn~I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it do~s not seem that he wants his fellow Christians to de.spair of ever suc.ceeding in this task and to lapse into negative silence. The attitude toward silence which reveals itself in the Scriptures is ~a positive one o[. using silence as a more direct and conscious awareness of one's relati6nship with God. It does not mean a cutting~6ff of the positive use of speech to share this. awareness and its consequent joy with others. Scriptural silence callg for a control of one's tongue whenever speech will wound another person or betray the spirit of ~Jnity and love which Christ wills His followers to share with those they meet as they live their daily lives. Thus from the Scriptures it can be seen that silence and speech complement each'othe~ 'silence pro-viding an atmosphere~ f6r personal contact with God and speech providing a sharing of the results of this contact when the' Christian is again in the presence of other persons. This positive attitude to'ward silence which is found in the Scriptures can also be found in the history of the rules of ~silence and the place of ~ilence in religious o~ders as they developed in the life of thd Church. At times it may seem that ~t more negative, approach, of silence for its own sake,'had darkened this'httitude in the early religious communities' but /~ more Chreful study shows that basically the idea of silence as a functional means to union with'God was never lost. The first religious had as their main purpose a per-sonal union with God acquired by. withdraw!rig from the World of sin in a physical, and mental way, Thomas Merton points oht how° these monks differ frdm other religious: "The monk is distinguished, even from other religious vocations by the fact that he is essentially and conclusivel~ dedicated to seeking God, rather than seek-ing souls for God." 2 Since St. Beiaedict's Rule has .bedn one of the greatest influences on later religious orders, it ma~y be used to show how silence was viewed at the beginning of monas-ticism and on through history. In the rule of St. Benedict these quotations about silence may be found: Chapter 6 of Silence. Let us act in .conformity with that say-ing of the Prophet: 'I have set a guard.to my mouth; I was dumb and Was humbled and kept silence from good things.' Here the prophet shows that if we ought at times for the sake of silence to refrain even from good'words, much more ought we to abstain from words on account of the punishment due to sin. Therefore, on account of the importance of silence, let permission to speak be rarely given even to the perfect disciples, even thougli their" words be good' and holy and conducive to edification because it is written: 'In the multitude s Thomas Merton, The Silent L~fe (New York: Farrar, Cudahy and Strauss, 1957), p. viii. of words there shall not want sin,' and elsewhere: 'Death and life are in the power of the tongue.' 'For to speak and to teach are the province of the master, whereas that of the disciple is to be silent and ligten. Therefore; if anything is to be asked of the superior, let' it be done with all humility and subjection of reverence lest one seem to speak more than is expedient. Buffoonery, however, or idle words or such as move to laughter we utterly condemn in every place, and forbid the disciple to open his mouth to any such discourse? That No One May Speak After Compline. Monks ought to have a zeal for silence, at all times, but especially during the hours of the night and this should hold at all times, whether on days of fasting or othbi" days., and on ,coming out from Compline no one shall bb allowed thereafter to speak to any-one. But if one be found"~o have violated this rule' of silence, let him be subjected to severe punishment--unless the presence of guests make it necessary, or perhaps the Abbot should give one a command. But even.this must be done becomingly and with all gravity and mo.d~rfition.' The most profound silence shall be kept at table so that the whispering or voice of no one save that of the reader ~lone be heard. The brethren will so help'each other, to what is neces-sary as regards food and drink that no one may have need to ask for anything. Should however something be required, let it be asked for by means of Some sign rather thanby words. Let no one ask any question there ConCerning What is being read or anything else, lest occasion be given to ~e Evil One, unless perhaps the superior should wish to say something briefly for the edification of the brethren? The idea of silence which emerges from these quota-tions is one of absolute; complete silence within :the monastery. How did' silence~ come ' to be h~ld as" such an important, discipline 1~3;' St. Benedict? First '6f all, it must be understood that Benedict presupposed that the ob-servance of external silence would bring the desired union with God. If he were questioned m6re about it, iv is likely ~that he would answer as Thomas Merton has: Monastic solitude, poverty, obedience, silence and p~a~er dispose the soul for this mysterious destiny in "God. Asceticism itself does not produce divine union as its direct result. It only disposes the soul for union. When ascetic practices are misused, they serve only to fill the monk with himself and to harden his heart in resistance to grace? Secondly, it must°be kept "in mind that the withdrawal from the world of men was basic to the life of a monk. This cannot be said of modern, active rell~ious. As one looks back to what the early Church fathers hav~ said about silence it may seem that the~ too praise silence for its'own sake as if it alone could produce a true spiritual life. "Where the severity of silence is strictly observed, religion thrives most commendably The Holy Rule o/ Our Most Holy Father Saint Benedict (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1937), p. 25-6. Ibid, p. 68-9. Ibid, p. 64. Merton, The Silent Li~e, pp. 3--4. Approach Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 211 ÷ Sister ]oann, P .B. V .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and fully" (John Gerson, chancellor of Paris).¢ How-ever, here again these men presupposed a purposeful use of silence. This is shown in many other examples of thoughts on silence from men of the early Church. "For it is in vain that the tongue remains silent unless the spirit addresses itself to God" (Cardinal John Bona, Cistercian).s "Silence is an excellent thing, in fact, it is nothing other than the mother of the wisest thought" (St. Diadochus).O "Speak, if you have something to say that is better and more excellent than silence. But when it is more advisable to be still rather than to speak, embrace silence" (St. Gregory of Nazianzus).1° "For it is written: 'A wise man is silent till the right time comes' (Sir 20:6), that is to say, when he sees it opportune to speak what is fitting, he sets aside the rigorous observance of silence and directs his effort to be of assistance" (St. Gregory the Great).11 As time went on, the living out of the Rule of Benedict began to change. The primitive observance of labor, obscurity, and solitude came into contact with the urban monasticism of the cities. These monks or canons of the city existed only to furnish choirs for the great Roman basilicas. From these two groups one emerged in which the liturgy was their whole life. "The offices 'became longer, liturgical, ceremonies were added, work was curtailed or ceased to exist, and the monk became in-tensely conscious of his function as one deputed to carry out with solemnity the public worship of the Church." 12 Shortly after the death of St. Benedict his monks be-came missionaries. However, even as they became more active they cl'ung to the original purpose of the primitive order, that of withdrawing from men to approach God dire~ctly. "The monks had been chosen for the work of spreading the Christian faith and preserving what could be preserved of Roman order and culture. But their vocation was to remain, as it had always been, essen-tially contemplative, sedentary and silent." 13 It is not until later in history when such people as Vincent de Paul, Angela Merici, and Nano Nagle ap-pear, that one finds religious orders whose purpose has changed from that of the primitive monks. Of course they still seek a personal union with God but now it is through other people, not by withdrawal from them. Each of these founders saw that the rules of the earlier 7Maurus Walter, O.S.B., The Principles of Monasticism (St. Louis: Herder, 1962), p. 71. s Ibid, p. 70. s Ibid, p. 67. 10 Ibid, p. 63. 11 Ibid, p. 72. m Thomas Merton, The Silent Life, p. fig. la Ibid, p. 70. monastic orders would not fit his group. Each struggled to keep his community free from the observances which would cut it off from the People of God with whom they wished to work. Yet these rules had become so rigid that in order to survive at all, the founders were forced to accept what they so desperately opposed. Only centuries later, when secular institutes appeared, did anyone succeed in establishing a religious group without taking on all the rules of early monasticism. If this desire to escape monastic rules were applied to silence, it would no doubt be seen that, while silence would certainly be necessary for prayer and personal re-evaluation in any apostolic religious group, so also would the correct use of speech be necessary. Such extremes as condemning what causes laughter or using sign language would not be considered proper for a group working directly with other people. As history continues to unfold, perhaps the most not-able change in mankind is the rate of this change. Devel-opments which once took centuries now happen in a few years. The multitude of new facts, ideas, and situa-tions is fabulous and ever growing. To handle these changes and integrate them in a meaningful way man has seen the need for better communication. Both mass media and small group discussions have been brought to bear on this problem of rapid change. Vatican II has considered communication important enough to issue a decree on it. This is one aspect of the world in which modern religious groups find themselves. Thus, for religious use also, communication becomes ever more important. If their purpose is union with God through God's people living today, then they too must know how to communicate and integrate the vast number of new ideas and situations which confront them. They must look at silence and find its essence. They cannot tolerate accidentals which belong to another age and serve an-other purpose. Since it can safely be said that "silence is not classified as a virtue, but it is the atmosphere in which virtues develop," 14 it follows that it is possible for this atmos-phere to fail to produce the desired virtue. There are other elements in any given situation which can make silence destructive instead of productive. This is recog-nized even by authors who have devoted an entire chapter or article to the praise of silence. There is usually included a warning against the misuse of silence: "Care must be taken not to use obligatory silence as a cloak for a silence willingly practiced to spurn a neigh-bor for real or imagined injury. There is not only no 1~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus (New York: Herder and Herder, 1962), p. 36. ÷ ÷ + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ + Sister $oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merit in this type of silence, but it can actually be sin-ful." 1~ "The manner in which religious silence is some-. times practiced causes one to Wonder whether the whole matter is at all feasible. At one time silence in a con-vent or monastery or seminary appears to be a cold indifferent rudefiess. At another it seems to offer a nega-tion as answer to real human needs: the need to share with a special friend or the need to unburden oneself to another. Surely, if religious silence meant this kind of thing it would be incompatible with the second greatest precept, a warm sympathetic understanding love of our brother or sister." le Perhaps the most obvious danger of silence is the tendency to use it as a cloak to diguise selfishness. It is very easy to become so involved in one's own work and concerns that other people do not matter. Silence be-comes a convenient way to avoid getting involved with others. In many cases the effort required to say something encouraging or cheerful to a sister one meets is much greater than simply not speaking to the sister. Often this silence is simply an ignoring of even the thought that this sister might' be in need of a friendly word from someone. Getting involved in the problems of another will demand time. It is much more simple to just keep silence. God will help the sister if she needs help. But the fact which is forgotten is that God will use the lips, heart, and mind of another person to bring the aid of which the sister is in need. One author has made this attitude clear by using this example: Those who have enjoyed the gift of ill-health will remember vividly their return, after a long absence, to their religious house. More than the uncarpeted floors, and perhaps the hard bed, the thing that impresses most as different is the observance of silence. After the first greeting, people settle down to passing you in the corridor without the flickering of the eyelid; they look for no sign of recognition and give none. Rather they look through you . They will sit mute beside you at meals, mouths active only in the intake of calories. During the previous weeks it would have been considered ill mannered to ignore a nurse or doctor or patient, and might have caused comment on the aloofness or snobbery of religious. In a lay community of any kind, even if your intention were to save people from boredom or embarrassment or waste of time, they would interpret your behavior as unfriendly and resent it . Now, ina religious house we develop a flair for ignoring each other. We have chosen to absolve each other from the necessity of speaking whenever we meet; indeed we oblige ourselves not to speak for long periods of the day.1~ 1~ Rev. Charles Hugo Doyle, Little Steps to Great Holiness (West-minster: Newman,. 1956), p. 256; ~OThomas Dubay, S:M., "Silence and Renewal," REw~w FOR RELX~;~OUS, V. 15 (1956), p. 93. l~Michael Sweetman, S.J., "Silence," R~vmw Fog RELm~ous, v. 22 (1963), p. 450. A second danger of too much silence is a retarding of interpersonal relationships which are necessary for each person if he is to become more fully human. In religious life one important task is the building of a real com-munity. To do this each sister must get to know the other sisters with whom she lives to a more than superficial depth: This union demands that religious discover and love each other in their individuality, that they be aware of the needs of others, that they seek the interests of others and appreciate those with whom they live. Only in so doing do the members discover and become themselves. There is required a spirit of openness and honesty among the members in order to effect this personal contact as opposed to the individual being wrapped up in self as an isolated unit in an aggregate.~ Just as in a family, unity in religious" life breaks down when the members do not communicate with each other: Building family trust is a big, big job. And the toughest ~aart is learning to talk things out. Without talking, few milies can get along well. The members can't really under-stand family hopes and problems unless they have been dis-cussed.~ If this is true of families which are united by blood and common background, it certainly would be more true in a group with varying backgrounds which wishes to form a common uniting bond of understanding and love. This type of deep relationship cannot be acquired with-out much time given to real communication between the persons involved. The opportunity for such com-munication has not been provided for religious in the past: The personal relationship that has been characteristic of the religious' relationship to Almighty God has almost fenced her off from communicating with her fellow religious. Outside of stylized and formalized recreation, certainly among religious women, there is very little opportunity to sit down and talk things over.= Some of the attitudes religious now have toward talk-ing in order to establish a personal relationship with another sister must be changed if this misuse of silence is to be overcome. A deeper level of communication is often reached through small talk: "It has been a common experience among college teachers that small talk with their stud- ~sWilliam F. Hogan, C~S.C., "Community Life, an Event," Sisters Today (1966), p. 356-7. :tJim Carroll, "Let's Start Talking," Witness, v. 3 (April 23, 1967), p. 8. =John J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious Li/e, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965, p. 230. ÷ ÷ ÷ A~oo~h to Silence VOLUME 27, 4. 4. 4. Sister Joann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 216 ents often paves the way for some very serious talk." 21 "Yet it [small talk] will always be other-oriented, not naive prattle, but the practical expression of that socia-bility which can be described as 'patient, kind, seeking not its own, not puffed up.' " 22 An appreciation and respect for the kind of communication which builds real personal relationship and thus a community of united persons must be developed in order to make silence purposeful rather than a destructive force. Another situation in which maintaining silence would be damaging is in failing to give a concrete expression to one's ideas and opinions. A person's thoughts on any given subject are tested and either strengthened or modified by exposing them to the criticism of others: Those in charge of religious, particularly at the beginning of their training, should reflect that the religious who finds that she is isolated constantly and must do practically all her thinking alone, and does not have a chance really to com-municate with others, is going to be deprived of a richness which is there, if only permitted and encouraged.= Now it is true that each of them presumably thinks re-peatedly about many important things in her meditation and other prayers. But her significant thinking must also in large ~reaqrut ebnet wopipthoirntu an istoiecsi atol ccoomntmexutn. iAca tree.l~igious should be given Training in communicating ideas would be needed for all religious, but especially for those who came from families in which there was little discussion or sharing of ideas. These people would need to be led to see the value of such sharing as well as how to carry it out: But it may be objected, is it so necessary that everyone ex-press himself at the group, meetin. .g? Surely the Sister who says nothing during an entire d~scuss~on does not seem to be par-ticipating to the full, but she may help very much by her presence and encouraging demeanor. True her presence may do much for the atmosphere, but effort is needed if she is to express herself, to voice her agreement, or the lack of it--all these call for the inter-functioning of body, intellect, will, and emotions: for integrated self-activity. The result of such effort is an enhancement of the self--and benefit to her and all those who hear her. The chance to give an opinion, be it ever so brief, to express her views, places her in a condition of openness and dialogue with others, while silent consent can never reproduce such a state. The prudence, kindliness, discre-tion, and frankness which such expression of opinion will elicit from her will develop her personality and give her inmost thoughts in concrete form. Moreover, she has the some-times new experience of having her opinion taken seriously, received with respect, and given consideration by her peers. Again, this is enrichment; community is being fashioned. In the warmth of give and take her ideas are multiplied, Sister Rose Alice, "On the Art of Small Talk," p. 766. Ibid. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 231. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 2~0. broadened, and deepened. Ramifications she never dreamt of are now added to her stock of ideas and impressions on the subject. She begins to "experience community" through the gift of her speech-attempts, through the gift of herself to the gro.up; and the group's acceptance of her continues the ex-perience in their lives as well.~ Since sisters today are expected to be able to think for themselves and form their own opinions, it is absolutely necessary that they be given frequent opportunities to clarify their ideas by sharing them with others. Only then will their opinions be strong but still flexible enough to meet other opinions and produce worthwhile results. It is obvious that something which has been valued as highly as silence has been for so many centuries must have many valuable uses which counteract the dangers involved. The first use of silence, which has already been mentioned in the scriptural and historical development of silence, is that of prayer: "The positive reason for silence is, of course, to give ourselves a chance to find God and live in his presence/' 26 If prayer is considered as a conversation with God, needed to develop a deep personal relationship, then it can be seen that much time must be spent in this conversation just as much time is needed to develop deep human relationships. Just as in human love, after the relationship has been developed silence itself can communicate: "When love has reached a high degree words are not necessary. Silence becomes a form of communication." 27 By the very fact that prayer is an expression of a per-sonal relationship with God it will vary greatly with each person in the kind, the amount, and the place of this expression. It would be supposed that the union needs daily strengthening if it is to continue todevelop. Each religious should be free to take the periods of silence she needs to engage in prayer. It should not be necessary to set up strict legislation on this matter. When a sister withdraws from the company of others to the chapel, her own room, or a quiet place outdoors a mutual charity among the rest of the community should allow her the silence she needs. However, she should not expect to impose on the other sisters her need for silence at any given time. A mutual understanding and reasonable-ness on each side is needed. It seems logical to expect that each sister who has professed a desire for an intimate union with God would feel the need for a reasonable portion of each day to be spent in loving conversation with Him. Another activity which needs frequent periods of ~nSister Gertrude Joseph Donnelly, C.S.J.O., The Sister Apostle, (Notre Dame: Fides, 1964), p. 42. ~ Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 431. ~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus, p. 36. ÷ ÷ ÷ Approach to Silence ~/OLUME 27, 1968 4. SistePr~ ].oVa~nnI., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS silence is reading. Related to this is serious study of new views and ideas as they appear on the world scene: "It [silenCe] provides the only possible atmosphere for serious study." 2s .As the profusion of worthwhile books and magazines continues to grow, each sister should feel a corresponding growth in the need to take more and more time to read. This demands periods of silence. A sister who lacks the self-discipline to provide increased time for reading and study or who does not realize the need for such study cannot expect to be able to have an intelligent understanding of the world around her. Nor will she be able to appreciate the renewal taking place within the Church and her religious community. This use of silence for intellectual growth is becoming in-creasingly important to religious life today. A use of silence which has a great effect on the moral and spiritual development of the person is the re-evalua-tion of himself. This might be thought of as examina-tion of congcience but actually it should be much broader. Included in the evaluation should be the goals to be reached, the means used to reach the goal, as well as neglects or failings in using the means. This type of evaluation would not need lengthy, daily times of silence but rather a few minutes a day with longer periods on days of recollection and retreats. The person who fails to reevaluate himself periodically is very likely to become too rigid in his attitudes and ways of doing things. He runs the risk of becoming irrelevant since the circum-stances in which he must strive for his goals are con-stantly changing, thus requiring him to change his re-sponse also. Silence is a~so needed for the carrying out of most creative activities. One who is fortunate enough to have the ability to see the things around him in a uniquely perceptive way needs times of silence in order to produce an expression of his experiences through which they can be shared with others. If he is not allowed these times of leisure and quiet the community to which his works would have been presented is impoverished by this loss. Whether the creative person expresses himself through poetry, prose, painting, music, or in other ways matters little. What is of importance is the greater insight into rea~lity which those who share in his creations come to possess. Religious who are expected to be aware of the sl~iritual aspect oLlife should value highly these expres-sions of the spirit of things. Religious communities should provide opportunities for these creations to hap-pen. This requires that each sister show respect for the need of the creative sister for periods of silence not needed by other sisters. Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 432. Somewhat related to creative activity is the aesthetic appreciation of art and culture in its various forms. This also frequently requires a type of silence. Serious music cannot be fully experienced if other noises interfere. WatChing serious or cultural television programs loses much of its value if it is frequently interrupted by talk-ing or other noises. It often happens that the insight gained by exposure to a particular art expression or a fascinating idea produces an inability to express the new insight until it has been integrated into the person receiving it. Respect for this period of inarticulation should be shown by those who may not, for a. variety of reasons, have felt this experience. Again since sisters are expected to be cultured, they should automatically perceive situations in which silence is called for in order to provide the spirit with the quiet needed for apprecia-tion. This would be true even if the sister herself had a low level of appreciation since consideration for others present should be shown. Possibly the lower level of cultural appreciation could be. raised by more frequent exposure to cultural events. Another very important type of silence is the receptive silence needed for listening. From all sides the cry for the need to listen is heard. Certainly this is also a need in religious communities where persons are striving for unity with each other to provide an example for the rest of mankind. There can be no real community with-out real listening. The religious who is able to listen to the real message her sisters are communicating to her and who is able to respond to their needs in an in-dividual way without passing judgment is invaluable to her community. It can be seen that the functional uses of silence are many. If a religious intends to satisfy the various needs which call for some type of silence she must look at her personal life and decide when, where, and how much silence she should have. Since each individual in a community does not need the same amount or kind of silence, what kind of legisla-tion should there be in the rules of religious orders con-cerning silence? It may be helpful to consider the article on silence as it now appears in the Constitutions of the Presentation Sisters to see if it promotes functional silence. Article 121 of the Modified Articles of the Con-stitution calls for silence after evening recreation, "dur-ing the time when not actively engaged in assigned duties or at recreation," 29 and at meals. Each of these will be discussed separately. / ~ ModiIied Articles of the Constitutions oI the Congregation ol the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin MaT, May 1, 1966, p. 5. VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Sister ~oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~o The value of silence at meals is being questioned more and more: "We have to re-evaluate the pattern of so much silence connected with eating in religious com-munities. Eating is a social activity." a0 The social aspect of a meal is hard to miss. Usually it is one of the few times the religious community is together. It is an opportunity to begin the personal relationships which later can be deepened by more intimate and serious conversation. The value of the reading done at table can also be questioned. As Fathers Evoy and Christoph have, said, the reading is often merely tolerated or if someone is trying to listen he is distracted by the clatter of dishes, a poor reader, or the eating itself. Their comment on silence at lunch can also be applied to meals: If I have to stand up and just eat in silence, it breeds this attitude: "You are in the world, and I am in the world. Don't interrupt me. Don't disturb me. I am communicating with God." But I am not. I am just dying to say somethingmsome-thing worthwhile.= Possibly the effort required to develop good table con-versation would require much more self-discipline and unselfishness than keeping silence. Many sisters need practice in the art of general conversation. Table discus-sions could provide for this practice. The practice of night silence is an example of a regu-lation which belongs to another age: Again, it is a matter of suiting the need of the times. Sisters, there was a time in this country and in Europe when after evening recreation the whole day was over, and the great silence started. This was sensible because the Superior did not want the Sisters just chatting away all evening, and they really h~d little else to do. Ours is another age.a-" The milieu of today is very much orientated toward evening activities. Most culture events and many meet-ings take place in the evening. The stress and tension of the day's work just begin to lessen in the evening. The increased demands of modern life as compared to medie-val life must be considered: These create tensions which require more than just occa-sional breaks from the common order, or we are going to go berserk . I think we should take another look at some of the strictures that are made on our so-called "breaking of silence." = With the ever increasing need for discussion of new ideas and re-evaluation of the old, as well as an increased need for communication in order to develop deeper rela- =John 'J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious ¯ LiIe, p. 279. = Ibid, p. 278. m Ibid, p. 303. m Ibid, p. 303. tionships among religious, more time must be found in which to satisfy these needs: Your leisure should be able to provide you with opportunity, at least, for a "gab session." You should be able to com-municate, because there are many areas in which you cannot think richly and productively unless you are communicating with other persons.~' When we get together,it is in recreation or in silence or in prayers. The recreation is too formalized at times even to be recreating so we need that freedom to talk. to fellow religious as long as we are not gossiping.~ The only opportunity for this kind of talking often comes after nine o'clock. Instead of legislating a time for night silence, a silence of discretion and of charity should be kept. This would mean a consideration for those who have already retired as well as those doing work needing silence. In order to provide a reorientation of the complete person directly to God at the close of the day, Compline and preparation for morning meditation could be made privately by each sister before she goes to bed. The counsel to observe silence at all times when not active in assigned duties or recreation seems to be the antithesis of functional silence. It does not take into ac-count the freedom of speech which is necessary for the mature growth of the sister into a person able to express herself in a charitable, intellectual, and cultural way. Instead it seems to oblige silence for the sake of silence and presupposes that absolute silence is needed for rec-ollection. As religious communities mature and individual reli-gious are made more and more responsible for their own actions there should be less need for legislation on silence. It should be possible to educate the sisters in the value and functional use of silence rather than to legislate the times and places of silence. If a group feels the need for definite regulations these should be decided on a local level. In speaking of her ideal community Judith Tare says: "But there are no set periods for prescribing silence in this ideal community. Loving awareness of the needs of others, particularly at night, provides the guidelines for that kind of quiet." 36 There will always be those who will be too immature or negligent to take the responsibility for silence themselves. However, the regulations set up for the whole community should not be made just to protect these people. If this is done the community as a whole will fail to reach the higher level of maturity of which the majority of the members are capable. 3~ Ibid, p. 277-8. an Ibid, p. 231. ~Judith Tate, O.S.B., Sisters [or the World (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 127. + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 22] As stated in the title of this paper, an attempt has been made to present one position or view on silence. It seems to be a position which has. basis .in Scripture and history as well as one suited to modem life. If there are some who hold another view of silence it is hoped that they will be willing to present their ideas, keeping in mind what the Council fathers have said about lawful div~er.siiy: "Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is unsettled, and charity in any case." aT If this can be done then each sister no matter what her views may be, will be able to follow the recommendation of St. Paul: "Whatever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Col 3:17). ~ Walter Abbott, s.J., The Documents "o1 Fatica~ H New York: Guild Press, 1966, p. 306~ ÷ ÷ ÷ SistePr.B ]o.Fan.Mn,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Indwelling Transfiguring Consummation Any* living being is best appreciated in its final com-pletion. The rose plant does. not. fully enchant the eye as it grows through its six-inch stage but only as it blooms with scarlet exuberance. The dignity of the hu-man person is not entirely apparent at the age of two months but only when a fullness of days has brought wisdom and virtue. ,The indwelling mystery in the newly baptized infant is a subject worthy of reflection, but it is far more impressive when considered in the contemplative mystic. This we have already studied: But even the contemplation ot earth, unspeakable as it is, is but a dim prelude of the final issue of the divine inhabitation when the abiding Guests shall be seen face to face. St. Paul's description of supernatural wisdom as surpassing man's wildest imagination is especially relevant to the indwelling of the beatific vision: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Indwelling Vision In a definition both simple find majestic Benedict XII declared that the souls of the blessed "see the divine essence by an intuhive and'even facial vision without the intermed~ation of any creature acting as a seen principle. Rather they see the divine nature showing it-self unveiled, clearly, openly. By this vision they enjoy the divine essence, and from this vision and fruition ¯ Previous articles in this series were published in REWEW FOE RELIC~OUS, v. 26 (1967), pp. 203--30 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation'); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion'); pp.632-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism'); pp. 910-38 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body'); pp. 1001-23 ("Indwelling Sum-mit'); and v, 27 (1968), pp. 21-45 ("Virginal Temples'). 1 1 Cot 2:9. Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Mary-crest College; Dav-enport, Iowa; ad-dress: Box 782; Bettendorf, Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 223 4. 4. Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS their souls are truly happy." 2 The Council of Florence taught .that the souls of the blessed see the very inner life of the Trinity as such: "They gaze .clearly upon God, three and one, just as He is." 3 This clear, direct, open sight of the divine nature obviously implies the supreme perfection of the indwell-ing presence, for how could man gaze upon the Trinity with the mediation of no creature unless the divine es-sence were immediately present to his intellect? So true is this that Leo XIII said that the divine indwelling of earth differs from that of heaven "only in condition or state." 4 They are ~ubstantially the same mystery differ-ing as incomplete to complete, obscure knowledge to clear vision, interrupted love to continual love, imper-fect enjoyment to perfect enjoyment, bud to bloom. The Scriptural Account Before we explore the implications of these magiste-rial statements, we must first look into the biblical de-posit and note how all "the doctrinal essentials are al-ready contained in the divine self-revelation. Although many Scripture scholars hold (or did hold)5 that in the old dispensa.tion God did not as a matter of fact reveal the ultimate destiny of man, we are not doing violence to the ancient revelation in seeing old texts in the light of the new. If the Old Testament does not contain a revelation of the beatific vision, it at least contains a number of statements that are most fully realized only in our indwelling mystery of the patria.n The Book of Wisdom simply and gracefully describes the final blessedness of those who have suffered well on earth: The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was judged an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a littl.e, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. The Lord shall be their king forever. The faithful shall abide with him in love.7 ~ DB 530. 8 DB 693. *"Haec autem mira coniunctio, quae suo nomine inhabitatio dicitur, conditione tantum seu statu ab ea discrepans qua caelites Deus beando complectitur." Divinum illud munus, Acta Sanctae Sedis, v. 29 (1896-1897), p. 653. ~ Recent discoveries at Urgarit strongly suggest that the beatific vision was as a matter of fact revealed to the Hebrews; see Dahood's discussion of the Psalms in the "Anchor Bible." 6Ps 15:11; 16:15; 35:9-10; 48:16. 7 Wis 3:1-9. The New Testament is brief and clear in its revela-tion of the indwelling presence of vision. We shall rise in our bodies because of the Spirit lodged within. "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you," declares St. Paul, "then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." s We are destined to be forever in the presence of the Trinity and to enjoy the very inner trinitarian life: "In my Fa-ther's house there are many mansions. Were it not so, I should have told you, because I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again, and I will take you to myself; that where I am, there you also may be. Father, I will that where I am, they also whom thou hast given me may be with me; in order that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me. Well done, good and faithful servant; because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many; enter into the joy of thy master." 9 This presence and this joy imply a gazing upon the very face of God, knowing the divine essence face-to-face, clearly, just as it is: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. And I heard a loud voice fro~ the throne say, 'Behold the dwelling of God with men, and he will dwell with them. And they will be his people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. And death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.' " 10 All this shall be so splendid that we have nothing in this life with which to compare it: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 11 Think, suggests Paul, of the most brilliant sunset you have ever seen--it is not like the wisdom of God. Re-call the most soothing melody you have ever heard--it 8 Rom 8:11. aJn 14:2-3; 17:24; Mt 25:21. ~ Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; 1 Cor 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; Apoc 22:3-5. u 1 Cot 2:9. The beatific vision is the culmination of all wisdom in the Christ economy. What is true o1~ obscurely seen wisdom on earth is all the more true of facial vision. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 225 Thomas Dubay $.M. REV~EWFOR REHG~OUS is nothing compared to the divine harmony. Imagine the most charming, innocent, pure maiden's face that has ever rejoiced your eye it is dullness next :to the splen-dor of what lies ahead. Yes, "eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." Indwelling Presence We commonly say of a person who has just died that he has gone to God. Literally and in a bodily sense he has gone nowhere. We mean that his soul, released as it is from its union with the body, is no longer in time but in eternity. It has "gone" to its particular judgment "before God." This going before God is an appearing,: a manner of speaking, a metaphor. We are expressing a change in state by what is so familiar to us, a change in place. Except for the case of the risen body--for a body is in a place,---our expression, "going to heaven," means the possession of .the intuitive vision of the Trinity. If a man dies without the need of purgatory's cleansing, his . "going to heaven" is simply a dropping of the veil, a transformation from the state of the indwelling Trinity not seen to the state of the indwelling Trinity seen. The one presence continues from time into eternity, ~rom faith into clear knowledge, ta'om inchoate love and joy to consummate love and joy. The beatific vision is nothing other than the indwelling mystery in its final completion: an indwelling, but no longer a dark mystery. "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and Gbd in him. When he appears, we shall be like ~o him, for we shall see him just as he'is," la that is, the triune God abiding in our s6uls. . A moment's reflection immediately shows why the beatific vision must involve an indwelling presence. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of the divine object in this facial vision must be closer to man than any other object he has ever known. Any knowledge requires the immaterial presence of the known within the knower. My knowledge of a tree demands an intentional, mental, representational presence of the tree in my mind. Other-wise I could not possibly know it. However, the tree is not present in "its material being. It remains itself in its own place, but at the same time it does take up an ideal presence in my imagination, and intellect. Knowledge demands a presence of the known object within the knower. In the beatific vision this knowledge.-demanding-pres-ence principle attains its perfect fulfillment, for God is ~ l'Jn 4:16; 3:2. immediately present in His own being without the aid of a representational idea to express Him. I know the tree through the aid of an idea expressing the tree, but no created idea can express God as He is in.'Himself. Any created idea, because created, must be more unlike God than like Him. He is infinite, never exhaustible; the idea is always finite, easily exhaustible. If the Trinity is known as it is, it must be by an idealess, immediate union with the human_ intellect. Because there can be no created idea between the human intellect and "the di-vine reality, the latter is more intimately present to man in .the beatific vision than anything man has ever known. It was St. Thomas' judgment that "no creature can come more close to God than in seeing His substance." la The beatific vision, therefore, is the indwelling pres-ence at its ultimate pinnacle. It is a presence singular, unique, ineffable. It is the maturation of the whole su-pernatural economy. We must, therefore, examine more closely this con-summation of our mystery. Essential Glory.: Vision , By what precisely does the soul possess the° Trinity in the facial presence of eternal life? All theologians agree that total essential glory consists in seeing, loving, and enjoying Father, Son, and Spirit, but they do not agree as to which of these three operation.s is the crucial one. St. Thomas held that the intellectual vision is flae es-sential act of glory because it is by knowing that man possesses God, and this knowing is the root reason he can also love and enjoy. Scotus held that the essential act is love because love is :the .most perfect of man's operations and unites him really and not merely inten-tionally with the beloved. Knowing in this view is merely a condition of love and joy. Aureolus placed the core of beatitude in delight because it is only by delight that man is completely satiated. Suarez plied a middle course in proposing that essential glory is a combina-tion of vision and the love of friendship. His reason was that both knowledge and love are needed for a perfect possession. And further, delight supposes both of them. We believe that the view of the Angelic, Doctor is the preferable, and that for several reasons. It seems to us that the dominant scriptural evidences point to vision as the root of our final glorification: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see. God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I-know ih part, but Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.lO. 4" ÷ ÷ VOLUME'27, 1968 227 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS then I shall know even as I have been known. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see 'him just as he is." a4 The .basic theological reason behind this position points to knowledge as that by which the blessed possess God. Love and joy suppose the presence of the Trinity and it is by the intellectual act that this special pres-ence is effected. While we do not deny that love and delight are necessary to perfect happiness, we submit that their root must be vision, since one cannot love and enjoy what he does not know. Hence, the first root o~ essential glory itself must be the intuitive sight o[ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Suarez' attempt at conciliation is commendable but inadequate. If intellect and will bear diverse relations to essential glory, they can hardly both be the root of it. Garrigou-Lagrange pointed to the weakness of the Suarezian view: Intelligence and will are two faculties, specifically distinct, and therefore unequal. The will is subordinated to the in-telligence which directs it. The will is carried on to a true real good, but only on condition that it follows the right judgment of the intellect, a judgment conformable to reality. We desire only what we know, and we do not rejoice except in a good which we possess. Joy does not constitute the possession, but presupposes the possession. Hence, intelligence and will are not equal in the possession of God. They arise in order, one after the other. By vision the soul possesses God. By love it enjoys Him, rests in Him, prefers Him to itself.1" Our faith on earth is so orientated to eventual vision that one who believes may be said already to possess final glory in its seed: "He who believes in the Son has everlasting file." 16 Just as faith is the first step in the divine encounter on earth, so is vision .the first root o[ its final completion in heaven. Light o[ Glory The sight of God in His intimate triune nature is so staggering an activity that no creature, no most lofty angel, no Mary even can by native power attain it. So truly does this God dwell in a light inaccessible that no wildest hope of man could grasp even a flickering spark of it. For He is "the blessed and only sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords, who alone has immortality and dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man has seen or can see.17 If, then, man is to attain one day to the indwelling :*Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; I Cor 13:12; I Jn 3:2. LiIe Everlasting, p. 221. X°Jn 3:36; see also Jn 5:24 and 6:47 for the same idea. Tim 6:15-6. consummation of direct sight, his intellect must neces-sarily be elevated above its utter native incapacity in order to be able to make the leap into infinite beauty. The gap between creature and Creator is limitless. Only God can bridge it. Only He can do something to the created intellect to make the intuitive vision possible. Only Light can cause light. What He does to the intel-lect theologians call the light of glory. And it is the light of glory that transforms the divine inhabitation from the realm of faith to that of vision. Sacred Scripture furnishes a basis for our theological speculations. Although we cannot confidently hold that the ancient Hebrew knew much about the beatific vi-sion, we can assert that he said many things that fit this vision as a glove fits a hand. Among his remarks we may single out as singularly appropriate here the words of Psalm 35:9-10: "From your delightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light." It is eminently true that man drinks of the best gifts of the Trinity's delightful stream when finally he drinks from the intuitive vision of .the divine essence. This is the fountain of life, everlasting life. And it is precisely in the divine light that we see light. It is the Word who enlightens the intellect of all men both on eart'hxs and in heaven that they may believe by faith and see in vision. The eternal city needs no creaturely light for this same incarnate Word is its light and the blessed live by the light He gives: "The city has no need of the sun or the moon to shine upon it. For the glory of God lights it up, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof. And night shall be no more, and they shall have no need of light of lamp, or light of sun, for the Lord God will shed light upon them; and they shall reign forever and ever." 19 What is this light of glory that so transfigures the human intellect that man beholds his divine Guests just as they are? It is called light, surely, not because it is a refined sort of energized quanta, but because by analogy with natural light which makes colors and bodies visi-ble it renders the divine essence "seeable" by the created intellect. This lumen gloriae is not uncreated Light, pure intelligibility, subsistent truth, God. Rather it is a created participation in uncreated Light. It is drawn from our supernature, sanctifying grace, and it perfects and elevates the intellect intrinsically, thus rendering it apt for the intuitive vision. The knowing strength of the created intellect is completely unable of itself to reach out and bridge the infinite gap between it and subsist- ~Jn 1:9. 1~ Apoc 21:23-4; 22:5. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 4. Thomm $.~. REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS ~0 ent light and so the latter must bend down and raise the Creaturely intellect to the level of the beatific vision and render, it capable of "attaining the divine essence. We may say, too, that the light of glory disposes.the in-tellect for union with the divine essence as the im-pressed species disposes the same. intellect for the act of natural knowledge. Because of this disposition the splen-dor of the divine essence will not dazzle or wound the intellect (as the sun wounds sight .if directly gazed upon), for the intellect is not a sense and it has been elevated. So marvelous is this elevation that it makes man godlike and hence a very member of the divine family: "Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is." 20 In the act of vision, however, there is no impressed species that determines the intellect, no created simili-tude that takes the place of. or represents God, for noth-ing created can represent Him as He is. Even the most perfect created likeness of God must be more unlike than like Him. Rather the divine essence itself takes the place of the species of similitude, but it does not inform the intellect as an accident. Moreover, the divine essence also takes the place of the expressed species, that is, the concept or idea produced by the intellect and in which the intellect knows a created object. In the beatific vision there is no created word or concept, because if there were, knowledge of earth and knowledge of heaven would differ only in degree, not in kind. And further, the presence of a created idea between the intellect and the Trinity would weaken if not destroy the immediacy and directness Sacred Scripture demands in the terms it uses. to de-scribe essential glory: "face to face.as I have been known., just as he is." Clear Intuition The knowledge of faith is essentially dark, obscure, in a mirror--and a very imperfect mirror at that. The knowledge of vision is essentially bright, clear, direct. The New Testament itself insists on this contrast: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known.Always full of courage, ~then, and knowing that while .we are in the body we are exiled from the Lord--for we walk by faith and notby sight." 21 , " 1 Jn $:2. zt I Cor 13:12; 2 Cor 5:6-7. What does this clarity mean? Severa! things. We have already remarked that in the beatific vision the blessed do not see God as represented in some bril-liant idea they form of Him. No matter how brilliant a created idea may be, it shall always be more unlike God than like Him. Hence, dear intuition means that noth-ing will stand between the intellect and the divine es-sence. After the hypostatic union there is no physical intimacy with the divine .so dose as the indwelling of vision. Clarity means likewise that the knowledge of the blessed will not be through effects produced by God in creation or in the soul. Knowledge through effects is highly imperfect and obscure. If one saw footsteps on a beach leading to a discarded suit of clothes, a pair of gloves, a watch, and if he had no knowledge at all of the human creature as we know him, he might with some accuracy conclude to the passage of a moving two-footed animal approximately o six feet tall and endowed with intelligence. But his. insight into this strange fellow would be quite imperfect, obscure. Knowledge through effects-is anything but clear. In our example it would be opposed to sitting down with this newly discovered human being, touching him, gazing at him and espe-cially speaking with him and learning what he had ~to say of himself. Vision knowledge is dear. It is face to face, a seeing just.as the object is. Such is the blessed's grasp of the Trinity. Earthbound darkness and obscurity and reasoning are gone. Just clear, intuitive, direct experience. The blessed see the threeness of persons in the unity of nature and they understand that to be God, God must be a trinity: three in person, one in nature. They see the Father in His eternal now begetting His Son in a perfectly intellectual and virginal generation. They see Father and Son breathing forth in mutual love their Gift, the Spirit. They see the Son in the bosom of His Father and His Spirit, the Father in Son and Spirit, and the Spirit in Father and Son. They see this God "just as He is," and lodged in the deepest center of their subjectivity. Non-comprehensiveness We are not God. And only God can sound the depths o[ God. When we say that the blessed see the divine Trinity just as it is, we do not mean that the created elevated intellect can exhaust the inexhaustible. The term, comprehensor, can have two meanings: (1) one who possesses an object by vision; (2) one who sees into an object as far as it is seeable. In the first sense one comprehends when he grasps some truth, say, the simple structure of an atom. In the second sense he compre- 4- VOLUME 27, Z968 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS hends everything knowable about the atom. Some men comprehend the atom in the first sense; no man com-prehends it in the second. The elevated intellect of the blessed grasps the Trinity in the first sense but not in the second. Even the soul of Christ does not comprehend the divine essence exhaustively32 The finite cannot en-compass the infinite3~ Yet this raises a problem. How can we reconcile this nonexhaustiveness of essential glory with the simplicity of God? It would seem that if one sees an utterly part-less, simple being at all, he would have to see Him comprehensively. Theologians would ask, how can God be known "totus sed non totaliter--whole but not wholly?" The usual answer is that the infinite simplicity of God demands that He be known totus, whole, for other-wise He would not be seen "just as He is." But consider-ing the principle of the vision, the created intellect raised by the light of glory, the act cannot drink all of the divine intelligibility, non totaliter, not wholly: "Every being is knowable to the extent that it is a being in act. God, therefore, whose to be is infinite is infinitely knowable. Now no created intellect can know God infinitely." ~4 Degrees in Glory An immediate consequence of the inexhaustibility of the divine Trinity is the possibility of created intellects and wills knowing, loving, and enjoying Him in vary-ing degrees. If a fountain were endlessly deep, diversely shaped buckets could draw varying amounts of water. So with the Fountain. But tempting as this explanation may be, the reason the blessed drink diversely is not that their intellects are differently "shaped," that is, of un-equal natural capacities, for essential glory is no natural matter. Nor does the diversity arise from the object seen, for it is one and .the same Trinity. Nor is our problem explained by supposing more or less perfect similitudes of God---there are none in the beatific vision. The ex-planation must be related to merit and grace, for these are the roots of glory. St. Thomas offers several reasons for the diversity among the elect. Since the light of glory is a principle of the vision, and since the measure of this light is the measure of the vision, and since there are degrees in the perfection of this light, one soul is more completely m The Council of Basle condemned a proposition affirming this idea. ~ This non-comprehensiveness of the beatific vision is indicated too by the inequality in the perfection of the vision among the elect. --4 I, q.12, a.7. enlightened than another even though both see the same Trinity:25 "Therefore, the intellect participating more in the light of glory will see God more perfectly. But he will participate more in the light of glory who has the greater love, because where love is greater, desire is also the greater and desire in some fashion makes the desirer apt and fit for receiving the sought object. Hence, he who has more love will see God more perfectly and be more happy." 26 Approaching the problem from another point of view, Thomas points out that in any type of reality in which one thing causes another like it (for example, fire and heat) that which is closest to the supreme source of the perfection shares most in it. Because God most perfectly sees Himself, the soul closest to Him Will participate most in His light. From still another vantage point the Angelic Doctor notes that since the end is proportioned to the means, those who are better prepared by the means (in this case, the virtues) will share more in the end, in this case the intellectual vision, love and delight in the divine substance.2Z Eternal Novelty The intuitive vision of the Trinity dwelling in the bosom of the elect is never dull. Even more, it cannot be dull. Created joys can become commonplace, stale, flat, wearying, but never this one. The weariness and even disgust that arise in extended sense pleasures are due to an overstimulation of an expendable (because material) faculty. Such overstimulation, however, is im-possible in any purely intellectual activity because there is nothing material in it, and especially is it impossible in the purely intellectual activity of the beatific vision, for the divine substance, far from weakening the in-tellect, marvelously perfects it. In this vision there is never a lessening of delight and joy.2s This same conclusion can be reached from a consider-ation of the inexhaustible beauty of the Trinity. "Noth-ing," remarks St. Thomas, "that is gazed upon with won-der can be distasteful, because as long as wonder remains, desire does also. The divine substance is always seen with wonder by any created intellect because no created intellect comprehends it. Therefore it is impos-sible that an intellectual substance would find that vi-sion become dull." 29 On an infinitely lower level we can Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. I, q.12, a.6. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. Ibid., c.62, n.7. Ibid., n.8. 4. 4. 4- Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 233 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS see this reasoning in'the differences in hhman personali-ties. A dull person' soon tires us with his conversation and presence~ while one deeply rich in talent, knowledge, and goodness charms us for hours on end. Because He is infinitely rich God charms the blessed for an infinite eternity. St. Bonax;enture encourages the wayfarer with the prospect of this radiance unadorned: Then shall your delight overflow in that unspeakable vision of the divine brilliance; then will you marvel at the joyous realization of your own splendor; then will you be magnified in the perfect knowledge of all creatures. 0 stupendous and wonderful contemplationl O delightful and charming vis, ion! O joyful and unutterable sight.~ Love Fulfillment The psychological experience of men indicates that the knowledge of a good and beautiful person is nor-mally followed by the disposition to love. But no matter how good or beautiful the creature may be we always remain free to choose the act of love or not. Love for a created person does not necessarily follow on the knowl-edge of him. In the beatific vision, however, the elect are so enthralled by their experience that they neces-sarily embrace the three indwelling Guests in the act of beatific love. Loves on earth are free because they al-ways follow on the perception of an imperfect good (which as such cannot necessitate the will) or i~t least a good that is viewed as mixed with some hardship or dis-advantage. But the love that flows out of the intuition of unmixed, perfect goodness is necessary It is also continual---one eternal, uninterrupted act. The.beatific love of Father, Soia, and Holy Spirit is not interfered with by other acts and affections of the blessed because the divine essence clearly seen is the mo-tive for all these other activities. The love-clasp with the indwelling Trinity is, therefore, the perfect fulfillment of man's desire to love and be loved. It is es~pecially here that St. Paul's observation is .true, "he who clea-~es to the Lord is one spirit with him." al The blessed clings to his triune God abiding in his soul through one eternal love rooted in the divine loveableness sought both for itself and for the blessed. This love is likewise total. Man is absorbed in ,the Trinity as a sponge is saturated in an ocean. When St. Thomas discusses the totality of beatific love he makes three distinctions because there are three elements ifi the act of love: the lov~r, the beloved, and the love. If the totality of beatific love refers to the last named, that is, ~ Soliloquium, c.2, n.25. ~ I Cor 6:17. to the act of love, the elect do not love God totally, be-cause the measure of the act of love is taken in a com-parison between the lover's capacity and the beloved's goodness. Obviously the divine goodness infinitely sur-passes the creature's capacity to love it. In this sense only God can love Himself totally. But if totality refers to the 'beloved, the elect do love the Trinity totally, because there is nothing in the divine essence that they do not see and love. Beatific love clasps the whole that is God. So also if totality is understood of the lover, the blessed do love totally, since, they withhold nothing of their capacity to embrace Father, Son, and Spirit.as They pour out their whole being in this perduringly final consummation of the great commandment, for now in-deed do they love the Lord their God with their whole heart and with their whole soul and with their whole strength and with their whole mind. Continuous Actuality More needs to be said of the uninterrupted actuality of the interpersonal relations of eternity. The beatific vision is poles apart from the Buddhist nirvana. In the latter concept there is a loss of personal consciousness as one is absorbed into the divine. Christian essential glory cannot be oblivion; it cannot even be a passive state. It tingles with actuality. Any being is perfect insofar as it is actual, since a mere potentiality is imperfection. But by definition es-sential glory or beatitude is man's last and consummate perfection. Now the last and ultimate perfection of any agent is to operate'---so much so that a thing exists for the sake of its operation. Therefore, since man is very much an agent and especially so through his intellect and will, his ultimate destiny cannot be a mere inert-ness, nor even a mere habit. It must be an intense but calm act. Our destiny is dynamic. The perfection of this calm intensity requires that it be unique and continuous. Our happiness on earth is neither unique nor continuous nor everlasting, for we are engaged in one round of a hundred different activi-ties ~rom one end of the day to the other. Because hap-piness is the more perfect as it is more one and con-tinuous, "there is (even on earth) less happiness in the active life, whida is concerned about many things, than in the contemplative, which deals with one, that is the contemplation of truth." 3~ In this unin.terrupted actuality of vision man finally 3 Sent., dist.27, q.3, a.2. 1-2, q.3, a.2, ad 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 4. + Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS reaches an entire fulfillment of the crucial command-ment of the Christian dispensation, the love of God with one's whole soul, mind, heart, and strength. It is in this essential glory that the rational creature will love God with his whole heart, when his entire purpose is directed to God in all that he thinks, loves, or does; with his whole mind, when his mind always and actually is borne toward God in seeing Him continually and judging all things in Him according to the divine truth; with his whole soul, when all his affection is directed to loving God continuously and all other things are loved for His sake; with all his strength and powers, when the reason for all his ex-terior acts will be the love of God.u The elect's communion with his inabiding God is, there-fore, a consummate perfection of continuous actuality. Eternal Nozo When Sacred Scripture refers to our final victory it uses a variety of words to indicate its unfailing charac-ter: everlasting, imperishable, eternal, unfading: "These will go into everlasting punishment, but the just into everlasting life. And everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable ~rown, but we an imperishable.Our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measures; while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal . When the Prince of the shepherds appears, you will receive .the unlading crown of glory." 35 Our indwelling delight that awaits us, therefore, is not merely future. It is a limitless, unending, non-successive joy in perfect good. It is a drinking of beauty, a seeing of light that known no termination. Beatitude would not be man's last end, his entire ful-fillment, if it were not perpetual. We necessarily desire to live and love and delight forever. If we were to sus-pect that the beatific love might cease even after a bil-lion ages, a clond would be cast over the experience. Furthermore, a cessation in any vision must be due either (a) to a failure in the human faculty, or (b) to the will of the one seeing not to see, or (c) to a removal of the object seen. But none of these is possible in the elect who gaze upon the Trinity lodged in their souls. Their intellect as a spiritual faculty is incapable of cor-ruption and failure and so is the light of glory which elevates it. The elect cannot will not to contemplate the loveliness of their inabiding Lord any more than they Thomas Aquinas, De perlectione vitae spiritualis, c.4. Mt 25:46; 1 Cor 9:25; 2 Cor 4:17-8; 1 Pt 5:4. could wish to be unhappy. They are clinging to limitless beauty and cannot let go. Nor can the object of their contemplation be removed, for God cannot change and He will not withdraw what He has given as long as we do not first withdraw from Him.3~ And, as we have just noted, the elect cannot withdraw from their cling-ing to the Trinity. The Angelic Doctor delved even more deeply into this mystery of man's participation in the eternity of the eternal when he pointed out that the elects' immobile enjoyment of the Trinity derives from the intimacy of their union with immobility itself: The more anything is close to God, who is utterly immutable, the less is it mutable and the more is it persevering. But no creature can draw more closely to God than in seeing His sub-stance. Therefore, the intellectual creature who sees the sub-stance of God attains a supreme immobility and consequently cannot ever fall away from that vision.~7 We may describe the eternity of beatific joy by styling it a new moment that is always new. It is a simultaneous entirety always freshly crisp. It is forever novel in the best sense of the term. The tangible pleasures of earth are exactly the opposite. They soon wilt and grow old. They are always successive and therefore partial in their very nature~ They soon lose their freshness and novelty; eventually they bore. "Everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable. We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 3~ Harmony of Impeccabilit7 Implicit in all that we have just said is the calm pro-portion, tranquil integrity, smooth harmony flowing into the elect's being from the sight of Father, Son, and Spirit. The blessed cannot see God and leave Him. They cannot sin. On earth we can know God by reason and faith and still offend Him. We can even reject Him. But this is due to the fact that our knowledge is obscure, partial, as in an imperfect mirror. We do not now see beauty just as He is. In the intuitive vision of eternity, however, the elect see the very essence of goodness with no admixture of disadvantage or difficulty. It is a clear, complete en-counter with goodness itself. The will is filled. It cannot say no. It cannot sin. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.5. Ibid., n.10. I Cot 9:25; 2 Cor 4:18. + + VOLUME 27, 1908 4. 4. 4. Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Completing De, light The consummating perfection of indwelling glory is delight. The blessed cling to the Trinity with their in-tellects and love their Guests with their wills, Crowning this essential glory is the consequent joy, a sharing in the very joy of the Lord: "Enter into the joy of thy~ master," He will tell us.89 It is an unimaginable good: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what~.things God has prepared for those who love him." 40 This delight is not the essence of beatitude but a con-comitant of it. Delight is joined to beatitude as conse-quent upon it, as a consummation of it.41 It completes Vision and love as beauty Completes youth and vigor. Though we on earth can never reach an adequate appreciation of this crowning delight, we can deepen our understanding by contrasting it with what a merely natural last end for the human race would have been. Had there been no elevation to the supernatural grace-glory economy, our knowledge of God would have been the inferred, partial, obscure reflection of the divine in creation. Our love would have been natural, too, based on this effects-to-cause understanding. Our joy could not have transcended the same plane. Our actual destiny, however, unimaginably surpasses all this. The knowledge of the elect is not partial, ob-scure, effect-to-cause, but a'direct seeing of the Cause in Himself just as He is. Their love corresponds to this vastly superior knowing and is itself necessarily more in-tense, more lofty, more supremely delightful. It is a very entrance into the joy Of the Master, a godly thing, a thrust into the very bosom Qf joy. It is an experience that defies all description, fo~: man cannot imagine what things God has prepared for those who love Him. He has prepared Himselfl Risen 'Body , Though the beatific vision is essential glory, it is not all'of our indwelling mystery of eternity. The temple of the. Trinity is itself to be transfigured body and soul, that it might become at last a worthy habitation for the divine purity within. It is a transfiguration modeled after the very pattern of the risen body of the Word, who "will refashion the body of our lowliness, conform-ing it to the body of his glory." 42 It is a glorification like. that of Jesus who "was transfigured before them. Mt 25:21. 1 Cot 2:9. 1-2, q.3, a.4, c. Phil 3:21. And his face shone as the sun, and his garments b~- came white as snow." 43 It is a state described by St. Paul when he said that "thEre is one glory~bf the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption; .what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body." 44 Our risen temples shall be incorruptible, impassible, brilliant, agile, spiritualized--and all because of the Spirit within them: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 48 The qualities of the risen body shall stem ~rom the perfection of its subjection to the soul. The original body-soul harmony found in the innocent Adam will be restored together with gifts even he never had. And all of this will be caused by the indwelling Spirit. The soul is transfigured by the facial sight of the indwelling Trinity and the transformed soul in turn transfigures the body. The transfiguration is passed.from one to the other in a manner analogous to that in which a glowing red coal receives fire from a cause and then transmits its glow to a second coal. St. Paul closely ties the transfiguring spiritualization of the risen body to 'the indwelling mysteky: it is the Spirit within Who spiritualizes man's flesh even on earth. and causes his eventual resurrection in heaven: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Ghrist from the dead will also bririg to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit Who dwells in you." 40 By some mysterious power the abiding Spirit shall so transfigure our mortal temples that they will shed the imperfections of their earthly state. What qualities shall the indwelling Spirit leave in His risen temple? Theology follows St. Paul and distin-ghishes four. The gift of subtility is a more complete subjection of the body to the spirit so that the risen body no longer impedes the activities of the Spirit. For St. Thomas sub-tility does not include the power of the risen body to be in the same place with another body, since this gift does not remove dimensions from the body and it is ~s Mt 17:2. u 1 Cor 15:41-4. ~s Rom 8:11. ~e Rom 8:9,11. VOLUME 27, 1968 239 4, 4, 4, Thomas Duba~ S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS due to dimensive quantity that bodies must occupy diverse sites. Hence, the power of the risen body to penetrate another material being arises from a special divine intervention. Other theologians, however, see compenetration as a consequence of the gift of subtil-ity. Though the risen body continues to resist other bodies (Christ could be touched after the Resurrection), at the same time it can Penterate them (He rose through the tomb and entered the cenacle through closed doors). Thus it remains a body and is palpable, but becomes like a spirit and can coexist together with other bodies. The gift of agility, the rapid motion of the body at the wish of the soul, stems from our principle that the risen body is perfectly subject to the Spirit-glorified soul that has transformed it. The explanation given by the An-gelic Doctor relates the two gifts of subtility and agility to this one fact. "The soul is united to the body," says Thomas, "not only as its form but also as its mover, and in both ways the glorified b6dy must be supremely subject to the glorified soul. Therefore, just as by the gift of subtility it is .totally subject to the soul insofar as the latter is the form of the body giving it its specific essence, so also by the gift of agility the body is subject to the soul as to its moving principle, namely, that the body be free and fit to obey the spirit in all its move-ments and actions."47 In this manner the risen body of Christ enjoyed the gift of agility, for it was perfe~ctly subject to His soul as we learn through His various ap-pearances and disappearances in different places and through His ascension into heaven. In the elect, therefore, agility means that the risen body will be freed by the indwelling Trinity from the burden by which it is now prevented from readily mov-ing whither the soul desires. As St. Augustine puts it: "we shall abide in such bodies that wherever we will to be and whenever we will to be, there shall we be." 4s This is the power of which St. Paul speaks when he says that the body which is sown in weaknessrises in power. Incorruptibility or impassibility is a gift whereby, the glorified body is likened to a spirit in the double inca-pacity to suffer or to die. By nature the human soul cannot disintegrate, be ill, or die. By privilege and by incorporation into the risen Christ the elect shall never taste illness, corruption, or death, in their bodies: "What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption." By the gift of brilliance the blessed shall shine as the sun with a splendor that overflows from the joy o[ the '~ Suppl., q.87, a.1, c. ~sSermon 242, c. 3, n. 5; P.L. 38:1140. St. Thomas held (contrary to Suarez' opinion) that this movement is very rapid but not instan-taneous; see Suppl., q.87, a.3. soul in gazing upon the divine beauty and splendor. This brilliance will be like that of Jesus Himself in the Transfig

Issue 27.5 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. C~orrespondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to KEVIEW FOR RELI~3IOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63io3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, pennsylvania ~91o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by REvmw FOR RELm~Ot3S at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class pos!age paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to Rzvmw Fort R~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvIEw ~Oa RELIGIOtJS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore. Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittanct should be sent to REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS ; 4~8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaD, land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw ~oa RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 5 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Signs Charisms, Apostolates "Signs of the times" is a phrase that has been bandied about for so long in ecclesiastical circles that it has be-come part of our Christian vocabulary and has helped to define the relationship between the Church and the world.1 It is a category which sums up and expresses the Christian interpretation.of human, history---of the events which give evidence of and vindicate God's pres-ence and activity in the world through human agency. It has been empl'oyed in papal and conciliar documents not as a pious exhortation but in order to draw attention to the Christian duty of recognizing, analyzing, and assessing the events and movements of !aistory as so ma.ny opportunities for evangelisation. The Church will have a dynamic and effective apostolate in the world only if she discerns and assesses the values to be found in the world today. The charisms or gifts with which the Spirit of Christ endows the Church enable her not only to interpret contemporary history but to meet the needs of peoples. Pope John XXIII first used the expression "signs of the times" in the apostolic constitution Humanae salutis, proclaiming the Second Vatican Council3 "Indeed," he said, "we make ours the recommendation of Jesus that one should know how to distinguish the 'signs of the times' (Mr 16:4), and we seem to see now, in the midst of so much darkness, a few indications which augur well for the fate of the Church and of humanity." After 1 See M.-D. Chenu, O.P., "Les signes des temps," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 20-$9; "The Church and the World," Documentatie Centrum Concilie, n. 52; "The Christian Value of Earthly Realities," ibid., n. 157; "A Pastoral Constitution on the Church," ibid., n. 205. = Walter M. Abbott, S.J., and Joseph Gallagher (eds.), The Docu-ments o[ Vatican H (New York: America Press, Guild Press, Associa-tion Press, 1966), p. 704. All translations of Vatican II documents throughout the article are taken from this edition. Joseph Fichtner, O~S.C., is a faculty member of the Cro-sier House of Stud-ies; 2620 East Wal-len Road, Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ $oseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. listing several indications he himself had noticed, he added: "And this facilitates, no doubt, the apostolate of the Church . " The phrase was given a little more precise applica-tion by the same pontiff in his encyclical Peace on Earth,~ most significant for addressing itself not only to members of the Church but to "all men of good will." Here John XX!II observed how our age is distinguished by three characteristics: (1) the promotion o[ the working classes; (2) the entry of women into public life; and (3) the emancipation of colonized peoples. All three together signi[y that sweeping socialization whose Christian value the Church embraces with the arms of her catholicity. The recourse she may have to such signs of the times is not. a matter of opportunism but the result of understanding the spirit of the times and how the Spirit o[ Christ is at work in them. In his first encyclical Ecclesiam Suam,4 Pope Paul VI retained the term aggiornamento coined by John XXIII and associated it with the "signs of the times" as a pro-gram of action: "We want to recall it to mind as a stim-ulus to preserve the perennial vitality of the Church, her continuous awareness and ability to study the signs of the times and her constantly youthful agility in 'scrutiniz-ing it all carefully and retaining only what is good' (I Thes 5:21) always and everywhere." As John XXIII made the signs of the times the nerve center of his en-cyclical and the reason [or his optimistic outlook upon the health of the world, so did Paul VI comment upon them favorably after his return from Jerusalem on J.anuary 8, 1964, asking the faithful to understand, reflect upon, and learn how to go about deciphering them. Finally, despite some hesitation about accepting the phrase because of its biblical derivation, it was taken up into the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World:5 "To carry out such a task [of service], the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting-them in the light o[ the gospel . We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its expec-tations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteris-tics." The same article sketches by way of contrasts some of the contemporary characteristics: social, economic, and cultural transformation versus the uncertainty about the direction man is giving it; abundant wealth, natural resources, economic power, and the accompanying hun- 3 William J. Gibbons, S.J. (ed.), Pacera in terris (New York: Paul-ist Press, 1963), nn. 39-45. ~ The Pope Speaks, v. 10 (1965), p. 271, n. 20. The translation given above differs somewhat from the reference. 3 Article 4. ger and poverty; the unity and solidarity of the world versus the threat of total war; exchange of. ideas and diverse ideologies; a better world movement without equal zeal for spiritual betterment;'hope and anxiety. Its use in Matthew 16:4 has rendered the ph~rase sus-pect, for in the Matthean context the term "signs" refers to the miracles Jesus Worked, which is far from the meaning attached to it by either the popes or the recent council. What the latter had in mind were the events, not necessarily miraculous or extraordinary, taking place in the course of human history having spiritual and symbolic significance. The events, what-ever they may be, have both historical and theological significance. This means that beyond their immediate, brute, historical content, they have a value because they are an expression of an other reality. One can, for exam-ple, envision the forms of civilization---industrialization, socialization, urbanization, decolonialism--simply as historical trends, and then again, as the Pastoral Con-stitution on the Church in the Modern World would have us do, .as pointers to a higher reality. They open to man "spiritual vistas long unsuspected." 6 ,Perhaps their spiritual and symbolic significance can be seen more clearly when we recognize them to be signs of the times.7 The Church's duty, if her mission is to be accredited by God,. is to see that the question of God be not left out of any understanding ~ of contemporary history. The Church is dealing here with a "theophany" that has been termed "theonetics," the study of God in change. She is living in a messianic age with an escha-tological thrust--toward the end of time. Christ appeared in the one unique kairos, in the "fullness of time," and the Church is to. appear in His stead, as His' Body, con-tinuously and permanently in the process of time. Her mission in the course of human history is to interpret events and phenomena in such a way as never to let the world lose sight of its creative and redemptive reality, the transcendent and immanent in it. The Church bears witness to the economy of salvation as she sees it unfold-ing itself in history. The times furnish her with the Signs whereby she can be both sensitive to the movement of history and docile to the Holy Spirit helping her inter-pret the signs. She is in the same situation as Israel was when Yahweh was dealing with her in the concrete history Of her people. Failing this task to read the signs. of the times and to recognize their theological implica-tions, the Church abandons the world to its blind his-torical events. Chenu, "Les signes,'; p. 32. See E. Jenni, "Time," The Interpreter's Dictionary o! the Bible, ,1.4. sig,~, Chaa.~, Apostolates VOLUME ~7, ~.968 4, $oseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ Part of the difficulty of such a task is that though the Church is distinct from the world, she is linked up with it. The emphasis throughout her history has fallen upon either of the two, the distinction or the link. Whenever the Church felt the distinction from the world most keenly, she shied away from her duty of evaluating earthly realities or else failed to understand them entirely or too glowly.8 It is far easier to insist upon the current categories of the temporal-spiritual, profane-sacred, civilization-evangelization, creation-redemption, history-salvation, Church-world, nature-grace, than to grasp their interrelationship. If the dualisms emerge too sharply, the Church may treat them too much apart, pass abstract judgment upon them, so that "never the twain shall meet." ¯ Granted, evangelization is not of the same order as civilization. To promote culture is not to convert to the faith. To feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty is a duty of Christian charity, but it is not equivalent to preaching the word of God, teaching catechetics, or administering the sacraments. And yet the many earthly values are the common capital of all men, believers and unbelievers alike. Wherever they may be found, they afford the good ground for evangelical growth. Without such positive values as order, justice, right, freedom, and so forth, the work of God would have to operate in a vacuum. All human enterprise, personal as well as social, so long as it promotes the good, the true, the just, and the beautiful, is the fulfillment of that hidden potential man has in himself as an image of his Maker. Humanity itself served an incarnational purpose for the Son of God; all the good works of humanity subserve.the further goal of evangelization. All such works and the values attaching to them, because they signal the gradual development of man, his humanisation, are to be considered the prevenient signs and predispositions for the diffusion of the gospel. Man, confronted by the immense resources of nature, including his own almost infinite capacities, becomes more human through the advance of science, technology, culture, and socialization. At the same time he is left open to spiritual values, his personal and social life as it develops presents positive dispositions for the incar-nation of. divine life. For example, the closer he comes to fulfilling his aspiration for peace, the more likely he is to receive "a peace the world cannot give." 9 Major improve- 8 S~e Heinrich Tenhumberg, "The Role of Church Authority in Investigating the Signs of the Times," Third Session Council Speeches of Vatican H, ed. William K. Leahy and Anthony T. Massimini (New York: Paulist Press, 1966), pp. 172-3. See also Paul Gouyon, "Reading the.Signs of the Times," ibid., pp. 154-7. 8 Jn 14:27. ments upon mass communications help the Christian to spread the message of the gospel universally. So in every instance where he is an agent of truly human progress he renders himself fit for or subject to .grace. What scholastic theology calls the "obediential potency" of men is nothing else than man radically-good but now more than ever open and receptive to grace because of .the development of his capacities.10 Popes John and Paul and the Vatican Council have called our attention to the social dimensions of this obediential.potency. A fair illustration and parallel to our times can be taken from early Christianity when the fathers of the Church observed a major and universal phenomenon of their own stage of human evolution, the civilization of the Roman Empire. The socialization in .our day is comparable to the" civilization in theirs. They were ready to describe the civilization of the Roman Empire as an evangelical preparation. The cultural value of language alone, such as the Greek and the Latin, helped them to proclaim the gospel far and wide, though they could have been tradition-bound by the language of their Founder. The worldwide extension of social and political values, moreover, provided them the good ma-terial for the construction of the kingdom of God. They found the Roman Empire to be a meeting, place for Christianity; its cobblestones were the stepping-stones for "the feet of one who brings good news." 11. Earthly realities, however,, do not always and every-where contain pure or undiluted values; their values oftentimes are ambiguous, contaminated by error or sin. The fathers of the Church realized this fact too, but it did not prevent them from sifting the important values from an admixture of good and evil. In the grandeur of nature, though occasionally troubled in land, sky, and sea, they discovered the vestigia Dei, and in the grandeur of a tainted human nature an imago Dei. Mined ore has its measure of slag before its refinement in a smelting furnace. The same is true of labor organization, agrarian reform, social charity, and so forth. The ultimate per-spective of human projects, faulty as they may be in their hesitant beginnings, may go far beyond their im-mediate realization. This is why it is so ne.cessary to read the signs of the times correctly and not let ourselves be confused over realities.which onesidely seem to be stumbling blocks or idols for mankind. In rendering service to the world we cannot help but expose our own weaknesses and limitations. This exposure is unavoidable, and the a0St. Thomas Aquinas, De virtutibus incommuni, a.10, ad 13; 1-2, ci.ll3, a.10. n Is 52:7. Signs~ Chhrisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27~ 1968 77i Church herself admits it in her Pastoral Constitution On the Church in the Modern World: ". the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact its supremely human character." x2 There will certainly be risks to assume while drawing the good out of all possible resources for building the kingdom of God. But the risks will be diminished to the extent that we recognize and receive the values of the world in the light of the gospel and instinct with faith" and charity. Faith fed by an intensive prayer life will. have to be on the alert to follow God's designs in .the progress of nations. If the risk is great on the one hand, there is no less risk, for lack of faith and discernment, in failing to see the divine interventions in the events of today. Vatican CounCil II was mindful of this risk when it exemplified a discernment of the signs of the times by way of con-trasts, Such a discernment inspired by the Holy Spirit reveals the Spirit working within the signs: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons." in Re.ligious institutes cannot rest content with the papal and conciliar exhortation to discern the signs of the times, nor are they generally qualified to do so without the charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit. What the Church i~s able to analyze and assess universally, the various religious groups should do locally and periodically, always ready to seek out new solutions for new problems, How else is adaptation to circumstances possible? They might ask themselves questions such as these: What are ¯ the needs of the local community, civic and religious? Do signs of the times show themselves locally, pointing the way for a religious community to promote and take action? Housing projects, job opportunities, educational facilities, cultural programs, ecumenical activities, social charities, and a host of other situations--do they not cry out for that cooperation without which God will not intervene in human events excepting miraculously? As fast as science and technology are moving ahead into the future, can the religious apostolate afford not to re-examine itself periodically? One of the characteristics of the new-style religious life would seem to be presence in an ever changing society. Members are determined to share in the suffering, sacrifice, and conflict affecting society today. ,~÷ But is there not a subtle temptation in thinking'one ,.4. .has to leave his milieu behind in order t.o go "where the ¯÷ action is" ? The local apostolate, along with the charisms befitting it, may well be the first obligation of a religious group. Heinrich Tenhumberg, Auxiliary Bishop of Mfinster, Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS !772 Article 11. Rom 8:19. Germany, in a speech to the Council Fathers on October 26, 1964, commenting upon the schema of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, raised the question why in her past the Church too rarely acknowledged the free action of her members who aptly recognized the signs of the times. Fie laid down what he thought were the four conditions for rightly investigating and interpreting the signs of the times, one of which was that "room must be given to a new evaluation of the charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit among the People of God." 14 Without aspiring to such a mature and correct understanding of the signs of the times, he felt the Church would not be able to "fulfill the will.of God in time." The question Bishop Tenhum-berg raises does not touch upon the fidelity of God to His Church in the modern world, as if He might forsake her in an hour of need; he simply asks whether the Church always utilizes the prophetic gifts which keep her au courant. Of course, the same question can be directed to religious institutes as belonging to the char-ismatic character of the people of God. "Charism" is the near transliteration of a Greek term typically Pauline. It is to be found in the Pauline Epistles and once in the First Epistle of Peter. The latter more or less encapsulates the Pauline idea of a charism: "Each of you has received a special grace, so, like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others." 15 Paul, too, regards the charisms as given to members of the Christian com-munity in trust for the common good of that community. The four lists of charisms he provides indicate how diversified these gifts are, yet none of the lists nor all of them together are ~xhaustive.16 In this enumeration there is no hint of Paul prognosticating about the future needs of the Church and how his lists of charisms are sufficient for them. To envisage the function of each charism for the bene-fit of the whole community, Paul ~onjures up the image of the human body with all of its members contributing to its welfare.~7 The multiplicity of the charisms, rather than manifesting conflict with one another within the totality of the body or tearing it apart, tend toward its 14 Tenhumberg, "The Role," p. 174. The first, second, and fourth conditions are: a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit and of His life and activity within the Church; a renewal of biblical and patris-tic theology; a new style of Church authority and a new method for it to act, watch, and judge. ~ 1 Pt 4:10. See a preconciliar explanation of the charismatic element in the Church by Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964), pp. 42-83. an I Cor 12:8-10, 28-30; Rom 12:6-8; Eph 4:11. a~ See Rom 12:4-6. + + + Signs, ~harisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 77~ ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS unity. In this connection it is interesting to compare the Pauline idea of this totalizing effect of the charisms with the opinion expressed by St. Hippolytus of Rome in his introduction to the Apostolic Tradition, a third-century document. He asserts that "all charisms which from the beginning God gave to man in accordance with his will, restore to man the image which was lost." The early Church thought of the apostolate as the first of the spiritual gifts entrusted to her by Christ. It was itself a charism. Scripture, particularly the Pauline writings, witness to the fact that the Twelve did not lay exclusive claim to the title of "apostle." Probably because they felt the need of the assistance of others, they invested the rest with some of their own power and called them "apostles." The apostolate and the prophetic spirit was, for Paul, the foundation of the Church, with Christ as its cornerstone,is The apostolate was a spiritual gift he treasured much, and that is why he so frequently re-ferred to it. A closer investigation into the charisms of the early Church and their meaning and use bears out the fact that the early Church was so convinced o~ her charismatic role under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit that it has led some scholars, peering back into that time, to be-lieve the Church to have been entirely charismatic and not at all hierarchical and institutional. Relating the role of the Holy Spirit to the mystery of the Church, the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church takes issue with such a stand, stating: "He [the Holy Spirit] furnishes and directs her [the Church] with various gifts, both hierar-chical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (cf. £ph 4:11-12; 1 Cor 12:4; Gal 5:22)." 19 Part and parcel of her charismatic structure is the re-ligious life, and only within this structure does it find its authentic ecclesial dimension. Paul esteemed the apostolate to be a gift and a de-manding task at one and the same time. It would be foolish of us to think the early Christians were buoyed up by a host of fancy, even magical, spiritual gifts and had to exert no effort of their own. We do them an in-justice in imagining their life was surrounded with the miraculous. A good glance at some of their charisms will tell how much need there was for personal and communal effort. Works of mercy--nursing, almsgiving, adminis-tration, fraternal help of every kind--cost effort on their part. So did the preaching, teaching, and discernment of spirits. All such charisms had to be met halfway by men of good will .and selflessness; they demanded that same See Eph 2:20. Article 4. human enterprise and exertion which we ~aw had to be put into a periodic reappraisal of thh signs of the times. For some time before Vatican II theology was reluc-tant to teach that charisms belong to the contemporary Church. Theology was wont to confine the charisms to the primitive Church and to limit them characteristically to the miraculous or extraordinar~y. Vatican II changed all that theological opinion. Little and great charisms have existed throughout the history of the Church. As we read in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, the Holy Spirit "distributes special graces among the faith-ful of every rank . These charismatic gifts, whether they be the most outstanding or the more ,simple and widely diffused, are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation, for they are exceedingly suitable and useful for the needs of the Church." 20 There seems to be no reason then to hold the early Church to have been more richly endowed with charisms than the Church today. In the Church then as now charisms are spiritual gifts bestowed freely especially for the benefit of others. Wherever one discovers the incon-spicuous service of the Church, no matter how small the ecclesial operation, there, in such gifts, one will likely detect some sort of divine intervention. However slight a manifestation of loving service, it may conceal a gift of the Spirit of Christ. Charisms may be found together wherever one sees the accumulated effect of a sign. Charismatic gifts are not only rare and extraordinary but common and ordinary. Anyone who is willing to expend himself for Christ in heroic fidelity to common-place, everyday things is gifted with a charism. Under the common thing the hidden grace. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are deeper, more hidden and widespread or pervasive than we know. Who is to set limits upon His gifts in our life? Are we too inclined to look for gifts only in the spectacular, the colossal, the newsworthy, like finding a solution to wars, social problems, ecclesias-tical enigmas? Many are the gifts wrapped in the small packages of fidelity to duty, kindness, sincerity, purity, courage, truthfulness, trust, love. At this point it may be time to push Bishop Tenhumberg's argument one notch further by asking if there is any possibility at all of interpreting the signs of the times unless charisms are better employed? How closely interconnected, in fact, intermingled are charisms with the signs of the times? Do we have to speak of them as "values" to observe how they overlap? St. Paul never meant to enumerate all the Charisms of Article 12. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, Chazisms~ Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ .loseph Fichtner, O .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit at work in his day, possibly because he did not discern them all; nor is it possible for us to list them in our own day, excepting to mention, as he did, that there are varieties of gifts, all of which are intended for the good of the Church. Gifts of nature, talent, skill, com-petence, which often are the substratum of grace and are not easily told apart from it, are not to be hoarded or stingily communicated. Were it possible to paraphrase I Corinthians 12, we would have to say that the variety of gifts discloses itself somewhat differently now than in early Christianity. Perhaps this variety shows up in in-telligence or scholarship or scientific research, social reforms, artistic talent, catechetical skill, pediatrics, ger-ontology, the schooling of exceptional children, liturgical zeal, youth programming, public relations, apostolic en-deavor, mystical bent, and so forth. Gifts of all kinds, specializations, are useful and necessary in the Church in the modern world and are not to be bottled up or hidden. Nor will they function properly if restricted to a loner or a clique. They will dictate the abandoning of some apos-tolates and the assuming of others. Various gifts of the Spirit should enable Christians to work together harmoniously in the Church, for though the gifts are many they are one in the Spirit. In the Decree on the Apostolate of ~he Laity the unity of the apostolate is accentuated, however variously it may ex-press itself: "From the reception of these charisms or gifts, including those which are less dramatic, there arise for each believer the right and duty to use them in the Church and in the world for the good of mankind and for the upbuilding of the Church." ~ Since no one can claim all the gifts, their very diversity can do service in many apostolates and fit together into a fine pattern of apostolic activity. St. Paul wrote about this unity because he himself was faced with the Corinthian quarreling over gifts as though they were held in contention or competition: "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 ways in different people, it is the same God who is work-ing in all of them." ~z Whereas Paul had in mind char-isms belonging to individuals, it seems more appropriate to think that nowadays the charisms are diffused among groups of men and women who are willing to pool their capabilities and resort to consultation and con-certed action. The Spirit confers communal charisms as well as individual. Charity, according to Paul, is their unifying factor, and therefore he stresses the fact that charity outranks ~XArticle 3. =1Cor 12:4-6. them all. Charity motivates the recipients of the gifts to employ them for the common good of mankind. Charity too allows us who live in a community to appreciate the variety of gifts distributed among the members, so that each person can be different because of them even when we do not comprehend why he is so gifted or how he is so effective with his gifts. We must leaim to be patient, tolerant, and sensitive to one another, letting another employ his gift(s) as he sees fit as long as he is not misguided in his zeal and effort (how can a so-called charism square with" an otherwise questionable life?).- The function of gifts cannot be legislated in complete detail, nor can everybody in every circumstance abide by such detail. Practical matters simply cannot be regula.ted unanimously. But it may take charismatic courage to say "No" to a trend or policy or spirit which proves to be wrong and damaging to the Church. Egotism sometimes blinds us to the divine goodness in the many splendid achievements, the human values, round about us. Humility, contrariwise, prompts us to behold the marvels of God's grace. Charismatic goodness is to 'be found abundantly in the Church' and society if we would only peel from our eyes the scales of our selfish-ness. We are tempted to look only for the things which suit our fancy. ,At times, no doubt, the charismatic may frighten us or appear threatening because it is novel and catches us by surprise. It may be shocking, and yet upon investigation it may reveal a hidden or unknown contlnmty with something of the past. Liturgical change, for example, may startle today but in itself be a revival of a tradition dating back to the early Church. Charismatic leaders ¯ may be criticized for their bumptiousness or impetuosity; -they may obe called untraditional or subversive; their spirit may be attributed to a yen for change. They and their gifts may meet with contradiction, apathy, sloth, delay, distrust, because not all others discern their true value or the Spirit introducing them into the Church and society. Difficult as it is to sense the Spirit at work among charismatic leaders, it is no less difficult for the charis-matic leaders themselves to be sure of their own inspira-tions and enthusiasms. The uncertainty within themselves is compounded by the opposition they inevitably meet from without. Men like Gandhi, John XXIII, and Martin Luther King, Jr. exemplify the point at hand. We who are caught up .in the crosscurrents sweeping through the Church at the present time easily recognize the signs of opposition. They are like the churning waters left behind by a ship, the wake of its effort to plow ahead through the rampaging sea. + + Signs, Charinm, Apostolates ~OI.UME 27, 1968 777 + ÷ ÷ ]o, seph Fichtner, . . 0.$.~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7.78 This opposition is mild in comparison with the re-jection the true apostle has to contend with while follow-ing Christ in the modern world: rejection by his enemies because what he upholds or promotes is hostile to them, and rejection by his own who fail to understand him or his gift(s). The cost of apostleship and discipleship is sul~ering-- the sacrifice of earthly ties, possessions, life itself. What uncompromising zeal is necessary for the disciple as he assumes the cost of his charism. Christ expected His followers to encounter suffering, at least the pain of carrying out the burden or responsibility of a charism.23 It is painful to realize charismatic limitations, painful to be humbled by other charismatic activities which clash with ours. Not all gifts are operative in the Church at the same time, so they will have to bide their time. The important thing to remember is that the charisms meant for the apostolate place their recipients in the service of Christ who was a suffering Servant for His people. Since Vatican Council II considered the religious way of life to be charismatic and apostolic, it is only to be expected that this life should suffer through its current attempts at self-renewal. The charism of the religious founder was the germ of "the original inspiration of a given community," 24 which has to undergo the pain of growth. The retention or modification of that charism which he injected in his community can cause suffering especially when the personal charisms of members are in conflict with it. The Spirit communicates a "spirit" determinative of "the particular character of each com-munity," which can put the community at odds with ecclesiastical authority and occasion large-scale dissatis-faction. 25 Thus the vital principle of a religious com-munity can be at one and the same time the source of its sanctity and the cause for the purification of its orig-inal gift. The most agonizing encounters with ecclesias-tical authority occur in the field of the apostolate, a fact confirmed by contemporary examples. Yet Vatican II admitted it was "by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities' grew up" with "the diversity of their spiritual endowments." 2n This is an admission that the Spirit of Christ communi-cates directly and not necessarily or always through "~ See Lk 14:25-35. ~ Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Lile, Article 2. See M. Olphe-Galliard, s.J., "Le charisme des [ondateurs religieux," Vie consacrge, v. 39 (1967), pp. 338-52. ~Decree on the Bishops' Pastoral O0~ce in the Church, Article 35.2." 28Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious Lile, Ar-ticle 1. hierarchical channels. By their initiative and creativity, in accordance with their special gifts, religious com-munities initiate movements which only later may be taken up by authority. Their apostolates lie at the fron-tiers of the Church, supported by the gifts, small and great, of the Holy Spirit. The ultimate norm of the religious life is "a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel." z7 The gospel pic-tures Jesus addressing himself to the J.ews who were accusing Him of blasphemy, speaking of Himself as "someone the Father consecrated and sent into the world." 28 Christ in turn called others to this same ~onsecration and same mission, that is, ap6stolate. They had to give up all things to follow Him. Religious have appropriated to themselves the word spoken by Peter the Apostle: "We have left everything and fol-lowed you." 29 Christ called fishermen and a tax collector to the apostolate: "Follow me.''30 This call to obedience meant adherence to the Person of Jesus Christ and fellowship with Him. Before Christ entrusted any offices to His followers, He established a community among them with Himself at the center; He shaped them into a Christocentric community. The early apostolic life was not motivated by some form of hero worship but by obedience to the Son of God. The Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Re-ligious Life devotes an entire article to a discussion of the apostolate.31 After explaining in Article 5 that the life of religious is "an act of special consecration [to Christ] which is deeply rooted in their baptismal con-secration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it," the decree shows how its basic unity is diversified in two vocations, corttemplative and apostolic. The special consecration can be lived in two ways because of its twofold orientation. Vatican Council II was look-ing at the religious life phenomenologically: it saw therein two principal orientations, one toward con-templation, the other toward the apostolate. The religious apostolate then must stem from the special consecration to Christ; it is an apostolic con-secration. The religious apostolate is not simply a gesture, a sort of outward and incidental manifestation of the love consecrated men and women have for Christ. It is ~ Ibid., Article 2. 's Jn 10:36. =~ Mt 19:27. ~ Mk 2:14. ~ Article 8. See £. Pin, S.J., "Les instituts religieux apostoliques et le changement so¢io-culturel," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 395-411. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, ~Tharisms, Apostolates VOLU~E ~7; i~3 779 ÷ Joseph Fich0t~n.e(~r,. REV[EW FOR RELIGIOUS rather a concrete and unmistakable love expressed in a life '!committed to apostolic works." 32 In Article 8 we read about the "various aspects of the apostolate," how religious groups make diversified con-tributions to the common good of the Church. These contributions, the decree points out, derive from the varieties of gifts given to the groups by the Holy Spirit. The varieties of gifts determine to a large extent, though not fully, the specific apostolic orientation a religious group takes--teaching, nursing, social work, home and foreign missions, and so forth. Although the decree does not refer to it explicitly, it implicitly wants religious to consider the interrelationship of signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates: "Communitie.~ should promote among their members a suitable awareness of contem-porary human conditions and of th~ needs of the Church. For if their members can combine the burn-ing zeal of an apostle with wise judgments, made in the light of faith, concerning the circumstances of the modern world, they will be able to come to the aid of men more elfectively."3a Such studies as psychology, sociology, anthropology, economics, political science, can be the humanistic basis for the charisms to be more under-standing of and productive in the world. In a second paragraph within Article 8 the council links closely two spirits that should dominate each other in the religious life, the religious and the apostolic. Without such interlinking the religious life would suffer and die. The key statement to this effect is the following: "Flence the entire religious life of the rdembers of these communities should be penetrated by an apostolic spirit, as their entire apostolic activity should be ani-mated by a religious spirit." Here we touch upon a delicate point of the spiritual renewal asked "for by Vatican II--the possibility of failure to renew a spirit while changes are made "on behalf of contemporary needs." "Indeed such an interior renewal must always be accorded the leading role even in the promotion of exterior works." a4 Of course it is impossible to set any determinate, calculable hours apart for each, prayer and apostolate, but it is essential to realize that the two go hand in hand. In order to avoid the idea that perhaps apostolic works will lead to the danger of activism, to a self-seeking in the apostolate, to immoderate desire for action, to some sentimental involvement in the lives of others, the council asserted that "apostolic activity should ~ See the first reference in footnote $1. ~ Article 2. ~ Decre~ on th~ ,4ppropriate Renewal o/th~ Religious Life, Arti-cle 2. result from intimate union with" Christ.35 It would not have a Christlike spirit and would be torn from an apos-tolic witness, a body of Christianity without a Heart. The prayer itself of religious should be apostolic. Normally they will make their own the petition in Christ's prayer: "Thy kingdom come"--all the spiritual interests confided to the community. Daily community prayer will embrace all the persons who are in the in-timate care of the community: personnel, students, patients, fellow religious, all who depend upon the community for their spiritual sustenance. Instead of being an evasion of apostolic duty, wrongly inspired by the idea that the community can cure every evil and help everyone with prayer alone, its apostolic prayer will be a catharsis and a strength .for apostolic activity. Its members will not dilute their prayer life with all the worry and anxiety they experience throughout their daily apostolate. Apostolic prayer will be for them a humble and confident conversation with Christ who may find them worthy of His own fiery love for the people His Father committed to Him to redeem. A community closely bound together is prone to feel that its communitarian link conditions its form of presence and activity in the world. Community life of itself is not necessarily opposed to an effective presence and activity in the world. But its members obligate them-selves to live this tension between presence in the world and presence in a community till the' eschatological day when the Church and world will be entirely one. No matter how well they try to regulate their life, there will inevitably be some tension between religious observance and apostolic works, between the structural and the ~harismatic. It would be an easy solution to turn the time for observances into an apostolically disordered life. The regular community observance has apostolic meaning and purpose. Perhaps this tension can be eased by better budgeting and managing of time and service. Better management will help to avoid the two extremes of a rigid formalism on the one hand and a disordered and frantic life on the other. The former is harmful to the apostolate, the latter arouses anxiety or qualms of conscience. All the discussion nowadays against structure and the institutional Church can do harm to what is good and useful of structure and the institutional Church. Some sort of structure and a prudently regulated observance is an indispensable aid to religious life and to the apostolate. To take an example from family life--how much family life remains if members come and go as they Ibid., Article 8. 4- 4- 4- Signs, Charisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 781 ÷ ÷ ÷ $oseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS please without any recourse to a schedule for meals, sleep, work, recreation, and especially to a steady inter-communication? The same holds true for religious life:. a moderate observance is a precious boon to it. On the other hand, observance for its own sake is obnoxious. It is bound to incite a harmful restlessness, to sap energy, paralyze effort, or invite either pharisaical regu-larity or intentional neglect. Vatican II was rather in-sistent that this point of observance be looked into and brought up to date. The decree carefully notes that a high-spirited and level-headed apostolate will itself nurture rather than ruin the love for God and neighbor. The question is, how will it nurture this love? First of all, by putting to rest that old fear of an apostolate, genuine and sincere, somehow detracting from the love of God. The council will go down in history, particularly for its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, in seeing signs of the times which hold promise of much good for the human community. While speaking of the religious apostolate, it remarks about this same good as the field for religious to harvest. The religious apos-tolate, therefore, will nurture love in two ways: first by peace, secondly by stimulus. Peace will accrue from it because the religious will learn that his effort and fatigue are the sincere and au-thentic expression of his love for God. There is much comfort in knowing, deep down in his heart, that he is doing the will of God in the apostolic task assigned to him and for which his charism suits him. Obedience to an assignment with all the hardship and suffering it entails, is a participation in the obedience of Christ. Christ felt real contentment in the fulfillment of His duty toward His Father. "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work." 86 At the same time the apostolic religious will be stim-ulated to love more, for the apostolate will impress him with need for fidelity to prayer and to a rule of life. He will recognize at once that any lack of zeal on his part amounts to a lack of love, zeal being the fruit of love. Insufficient love springs from an insufficient union with God. Christ turned to prayer in the midst of a busy apostolate and denied Himself sleep in order to pray often and for long spells. Such prayer instilled in His heart a greater love for souls, greater patience, and more courage. This has been an endeavor to weave together the complementary aspects of the signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates especially as they pertain to religious ~ Jn 4:34. institutes. Religious institutes too, inasmuch as they have a charismatic role in the Church and society, have to examine the signs of the times locally and periodically in order to see what apostolates are open~to them and whether they have the charisms most suited to contem-porary needs. All three--signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates--mesh into a single program of life and work under the guidance o[ the Holy Spirit and in the light o[ faith and charity. Signs, Charisrns, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 KEVIN F. O'SHEA, C.Ss.R. The "Security Void" + ÷ Kevin F. O'Shea, C.Ss.P., writes from St. Mary's Monas-tery; Wendouree; Ballarat, Victoria; Australia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Two years ago Dan Herr wrote in The Critic of a "piety void": the deep loss felt by many people since older "devotions" have been downgraded and have lost their force, and the new "liturgy" is not yet meaning-fully established. The "piety void" is only one aspect of the "security void": a deep unhappiness experienced by many, since older "securities" have been challenged and nothing seems to have replaced them. This diagnosis contends that two basic types of security are in conflict: a security of absolute norms, and a security of committed love. It analyses them only in the area of external au-thority and obedience (though it might well take in areas of moral conscience, faith and doctrine, and voca-tional role and ideal). Each of the two "approaches" to security to be out-lined here could claim (and has claimed) roots in St. Thomas. It is necessary to distinguish between theory, translation of theory into experience, translation of experience into inspirational-motif, translation ol in-spirational- moti[ into formula, translation o[ [ormula into a workable living pattern. Any fully developed "ap-proach" to a profoundly human value (like security) includes all five: theory, experience, inspirational-motif, formula, and workable living pattern. Of the two ap-proaches to security to be developed here, the first (the "older") can be considered initially as "fully developed" in this sense; the second ("the modern") cannot. Both could agree at root in the theory of St. Thomas; each then develops a different experience and inspirational-motif; the "older" possesses its clear formulas and work-able living patterns, which are now challenged by the "modern"; the "modern" is not yet equipped with these elements, and for that reason is deprecated by the "older." Here lies the problem of analysis: here lies finally the root of the "security void" itself. A security of absolute norms is the fruit of a rational-ized approach to society. Accepting the common aim and the need for organized action to attain it, the members of a society accept also a human authority that will give it firmness, sureness, stability, and "security" in the I'face of conflicting human attitudes within it. When a superior, in whom such authority is vested, make~ an authoritative precept, it becomes normative for the society; only in obedience to that norm can that society continue with security. Security is conceived as unified and efficiently ordered action; it stems from "managerial authority." When the subjects obey, they conform their practical thought and action to the authoritative precept given them, out of respect for authority and out of love for the well-ordered existence of the society and its "security." Their obedience is intelligent, even rational: it is logical for them to obey, given their commitment to such values. When in fact their theoretical assessment of a situation differs from the dictate of authority, they will then sacrifice the advantage they believe they might bring to the common interest, to the greater good of the unchallenged reign of authority and for the noble end it serves, the societyrs "security." This is no infantile submission to the "will" of a master: it is the manly conformity of those who see greater value in their sacrifice than in their independent achievement. Their con-science is honored; and they have the personal, ful-fillment of being rightly ordered to the values they cherish, rather than the less esteemed fulfillment of mastery through their own pattern of action. At .times, recourse might duly be had to higher authority; but always in the interests of greater security for the com-mon interest. This is the theory; it has been lived in a way that subtly turns authority into something more absolute. It is assumed in'practice that the order ~1: the society to its common aim, its security, and its continued existence, depend on absolute obedience to its authority at all times. Despite the theory (which would allow for the balance of one human law with another, and with natural and divine law, andfor the use of epikeia as a x;irtue and not simply as a legal loophole), visible division from authority in any matter commanded is considered a supreme, scandal and an absolute evil. We suspect here a practical transition from general policies (the principle of respect for authority) to particu-lar details (the absoluteness of this dictate, in which the whole meaning of authority is seen to be at stake); we sus.pe~t a practical equation of what is authorized for the society with what is objectively good (and best) for the society--of the practical .and the theoretical advantages of the society; we suspect even that authority is almost conceived as the end of the society itself. In this way the basic theory has been hardened through experience towards a stress on absolute loyalty to authority at all VOLUME 27, 1768 785 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS costs, as the~ esprit de corps and inspirational-motif of society. The formulas of the basic theory are read in this sense, and the workable living patterns enshrine it. In practice, then, it is in the "absolute norms" of authority that man finds his security in society. For an "older" generation such unchallenged security alone was possible. This same approach underlies even a mystical view of the Church as the Body of Christ growing to its fullness under the guidance of the Spirit. It is through the charisms that the Spirit rules the Church; and to some He gives the charism of discerning the direction that might be taken with profit; to others He gives the charism of expressing .this conviction publicly; while to the apostolic hierarchy alone He gives the charism of placing God's definitive seal of approval on any plan. It . is through the hierarchy alone that salvation history can finally and authoritatively be formed: the word of the hierarchy is the word of the Lord. When a member of the Church obeys the hierarchy, he acts out of deep reverence for their office and for the divine plan of history in the Church. He thinks it is better for Christ to be revered in His bishops than for Christ to be helped by independent action but dishonored by an apparent. schism between His members. He gives up .what he hitherto thought to be the desire of the Spirit, for the word of the hierarchy, which He authentically knows to be the desire of the Spirit. This is the theory, and it is not hard to see how it has absolutized the practice of obedience in the church. An episcopal command has been regarded as a divinely absolute norm in which alone the Church can continue to live and grow in Christ. The apostolic placer is the will of God and is the security of the Church. It is the absolute norm for a Christian who wants to live in the Church and follow God's plan. We suspect here the root of the attitude of simple acceptance in many of the faithful who look on all pronouncements of ecclesiastical authority as though they were of the same univocal value; we suspect here a certain voluntarism by which God's ideal plan for man in the Church is identified with God's here and now (permissive?) will expressed through the hierarchy. A mystique of security in the Church stems from this lived attitude. A personal approach to community today suggests another kind of security--the "security of committed love." It begins with the axiom that man is a living and loving person. He is called to give himself to others in generosity, sacrifice, and service. In this "self-spending" he really "becomes" a person. There is in man, then, a native instinct (blunted by sin but given new point by grace) to yield, in love, to others whom he serves. It could be called "obedience," but it is not what is strictly and technically described as social obedience. It is prior to the existence or recognition of any social au-thority; it is an intrinsic function of love. It goes far beyond the demands of organization; it is directed to persons not to abstract values. Man then has to live his life in situations in which he experiences in his conscience the call to such love and serf-giving to others. In this call he hears the voice o[ love itself, which is God. In it he recognises the eter-nal law of absolute Love. He needs these situations if he is going to meet this Love and experience its challenge; they channel it to him as "mediations" of Love. He also needs these situations if he is going to respond to this Love and live up to its demands; they are the ambient, the milieu in which he can grow in it. Such human situations, which are. not of man's mak-ing, are in no way opposed to man's love. His love acts, not against them, but within them. As human, his love needs them. The basic situation thus needed is the situation of "personal community." We do not refer, to a community of traditions and practices, or to a community of meth~ ods and pooled skills, but to a community of persons who strive to live together in a. truly personal and serf-giving way. They are a "people" together, a true "comm.unity," blending together their instinctive desire for love and self-giving. Within such a community, the call to Love is heard and answered; the community is the "mediation" and the "milieu" of the eternal law of Love. Love can find itself only within such a community; it is an intrinsically demanded "structure" of love, a permanent, developed, and basic situation of human love. Considerably more is meant here, of course, than what is usually read into the concept of a society, effi-ciently organized to achieve a common aim. In com-munity, persons experience a sense of belon~,tng, of. "being together," of loving together. The integration_ of person with person, of personal attitude and ideal with personal attitude and ideal, as they yield to one another and serve one another and together serve others, is the basic horizon needed for all human life. In this sense, community "serves" man. Within such a community, there is need for celebra-tioh; such real love and togetherness need to be sym-bohzed and feted. Within such a community, there is also need for leadership; such love needs to be given open and significant expression within the community Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 Kevin O'Shea~ REVIEW FOR RELI~IOUS 788 and radiated outward to those who do not yet know it. Such celebrations and leading-actions are the high-points of community life. Without them, the community does not live, symbolically, in the hearts of the persons who form it, and does not supply them with action-situa-tions for ever deeper personal love. The community needs such events, and therefore it needs within it an oOice responsible for assuring their presence. Those who bear this office are rightly considered to have special eminence in the community, and to them the open-ness of all members of the community is especially directed. Those who bear this office are in a real sense the pivots and sttpports of the community-structure which serves personal love. The acceptance, the reverence, and the "obedience" they are given is fundamental to the commitment of community love and transcends the limits of merely social obedience. At the same time, the office we describe is not strictly social authority but something prior to it. If in fact in a given community there is also social authority (and thus also social obedience), they/viii be fully integrated, on their lower level, into these primary values. Authority must spring spontaneously from the community-office of celebration and leadership; obedience must spring spon-taneously from integration into community, availability to the action of the community, and reverent acceptance of those who hold office in the community. It is clear that when in fact such true social obedience is called for, it will possess a unique a~ective tone. It wi!l be an obedience within community love. It will simply pinpoint the readiness to yield which is there in the community prior to any legal precept. It is more a privilege than a duty. There are two major differences between this and the pattern of obedience previously described in the "older" approach. First, it claims the right to integrate the external com-mand into the claims of Love as heeded in conscience and lived in the community. The subject to whom the external authority speaks "hears" the dictate externally and then asks himself what it "means,' to him in his community-conscience, as a moral imperative of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that every external command will always automatically mean such a demand of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that always and in every ~case personal sacrifice must be made to the higher role of this authority. He will not grant, beforehand, that' authority is the main thing in a given situation but will assess the claims of authority in relation to the claims Of community love itself. He will'make this assessment as a person, in open-ness with the persons who form his community and hold office and authority in it. He will grant that normally and in many cases authority-claim (legal imperative) will mean community-claim and love-claim (moral imperative): but he will not a priori equate the two. He will grant that he must make his decision in this matter in deep responsibility of conscience, but he will think that such responsibility is part of his duty in a community of this kind. This first point is claiming more than the simple state-ment that a true imperative (legal and therefore moral) can objectively be in point but may or may not be grasped subjectively by a given person in invincible ignorance because of environmental circumstances. It is an expres-sion o[ an attitude to obedience that springs from the inspiration of the community-love theme. In theory it may not be saying more than is said in classic positions concerning epikeia and the balance of laws and incon-veniences, but it is said in the spirit of an experience different from the experience that has concretely inter-preted and presented the classic positions. Whatever our final judgment of it, a new point of view is expressed here. Secondly, by way of balance, in this obedience there is always a willingness to go beyond legal demands and to go beyond the hard and fast line of what is obligatory by authority. It does not like to stop at what must be done; it looks for what can be done. The final criterion of action is not what legal authority says (or does not say); it is what the situation really demands of the conscience of those involved. The external authority and its statement are respected as part of the total situa-tion in which the imperative of conscience is seen and in which it must act, but it is recognized that the total situation may at times and even often require more than the external authority has stated. Such obedience must be recognized as magnanimous: it acts, not in con-straint, but in love. Once again, it is an expression of attitude that is in point here, flowing from the basic inspiration of the meaning of community. In theory, it is saying no more than the classic position says of the primacy of charity over social obedience, the unity of all the virtues in love, and the rights of personal conscience. But it is expressed in a new enthusiasm arising from a new ex-perience. It is a different point of view from the "old." In the concrete the obedience morally recognized by the person in a given situation will be a determination of the tension between the first and second point: be-tween the right of personal integration into his respon-sible community love, and the duty of personal tran-÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 789 ÷ ÷ Kevin O '.SShs.eRa.~ REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 scendence of the limits of an external command. If this resolution were consistently in the direction of ignoring the external command, it would not be authentic to its own inspiration; for it would not be recognizing the genuinely "normative" character of authority in the community.It is not the "norm" that is refused; it is the assumption that the norm is "absolute." When this obedience is given, it is not lacking in the formal motiva-tion of social obedience, for it does yield to authority as such, but within a community context. The real ques-tion is: When this obedience is not given (in the usual form of conformity to the external command), is it objectively defective in the essential moral value of obedience? But the question is not one of theory, as we have repeatedly shown; it is one of interpretation of the "formula" used as a guideline, as a workable living pattern. It is less a question of what is externally done (or not done) on a particular occasion; it is more a ques-tion of what is the psychology behind it and how it could stand with, and not destroy, the genuine psychol-ogy of social obedience. For a person who forms his mind on these personalist lines cannot have a psychological security of absolute norms. He must find a new type of security elsewhere: in the absoluteness of his commitment to Love and to self-giving and to community in the sincerity of his own conscience; in the relative service that he finds for this in the structures of community, with its members, and their offices, and their common acdon. His is the security of committed love and appreciated structures. The "absoluteness" here is genuine but new: it includes the impredictability of human love, and the incalculable progress of providence. This same personalist approach underlies a sense of the Church as the "people" of God, impelled by the Holy Spirit of Love. The Church is a divinely created, supernaturally indefectible home-situation of truly per-sonal love and sacrifice. It is through and in the Church as a community that the voice of eternal Love in Christ comes to the conscience of her members. It is through and in the Church as a community that her members respond to this voice and live their self-gift to others and to Love itself. Ttie Church is being rediscovered as a community; the Constitution on the Church of Vatican II places its chapter on the "people of God" prior to its discussion of the place of the hierarchy within the people of God. The community of the Church is the natural horizon of our love as it is divinized in Christ; the Church in this sense is indeed the pillar and the very "ground" of Love. In this sense she serves the mystery of human love by creating the conditions for it to. be real. In the Church, the hierarchy, vested with the office of liturgical celebration and of missionary ex-pansion of the Church's mystery of love, and vested also with true social authority to rule the people of God, be-comes the pivot and the support of this "ground" of love. This is why the members of the Church, .as they carry each other's burdens and so fulfill the law of love, look on the Church with reverence as their "mother," even when they see her humble limitations. It is not initially a sense of duty and of obedience that binds them to the Church and to the hierhrchy; it is a sense of vocation and of belonging, since they are meant for her and cannot truly love outside of her. "Outside of m~, you can do nothing." This is why the same nuance of obedience enters here within the Church as we noticed on the gen-eral level: the entire problematic of authority-obedience itself serves the deeper problematic of community-love. At pre~ent there is a conflict, within and without the Church, between those who maintain a long established modus vivendi based on and leading to security of ab-solute norms, and those who demand the creation of a new modus vivendi based on and leading to security of committed love. It is certain that the "older" pattern is well established. It is only recently that it has been challenged; and the challenge has been resented, with shock, by the "older" generation. They have experienced a unique insecurity on seeing the very principles of their security openly questioned, on finding the present age disenchanted with the absoluteness of the old ways and seemingly submerged in the pure relativism of love. They have been asked, implicitly at least, to approve patterns of action in others that are completely at variance with their own inner orientation to norm-security and even to accommodate their own mentality and pattern of action to them. They cannot believe that their own generous sacrifice and 'heroic loyalty over a lifetime have been unnecessary and that their conscious foundation of security is chimerical. They tend to harden the "essential" theory of authority-obedience- security, in the language they have always known it, into the one and only workable living pattern they have known and to admit no other. They feel now that the essential props of their security are under attack. It is certain too that the "new" pattern is noble in its inspiration. Because it is noble and even more because it is new, it tends to remain as yet in the order of ideals and even of inspirational "slogans" (for example, "personal fulfillment," the need for "dialogue") and has not yet formed for itself a realistic working pattern. Its ÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 791 + + Kevi~t O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS idealism is tender to attack and resents the fact that others cannot understand it but reject it and even regard it as harmful. The "new" generation cannot believe that they ought honestly regard their ideals as unreal and settle for the pseudo-satisfaction of security through absolute norms and legal authority. They tend to stiffen their allegiance to their principles and to be insecure precisely because they know they are not yet accepted or put into practice at community level. It is Strange that precisely here the "new" generation may be rather unfaithful to its own principles. Instead of placing their real security in committed love and self-giving, they seem to insist---immediately---on the security of acceptance in the "older" community; they want their values upheld and identified as legitimate and valid, they want to be understood by others and not thought rebels, they want to be integrated, as they are, into their community's way of life and tradition which they feel that they do not violate but practice in a new way. Would that they have all this; but is it primary to their own principles? At all events, a certain paralysis is taking hold of protagonists of both points of view, which is deepening their insecurity. It happens especially where there has been little attempt at renewal of commonity living structures; where a tradition of legalistic obedience has set up a quasi-divine right of the establishment; where a system of bureaucracy or a veil of anonymity or a pro-tection of prestige has been used to give firmness to the status quo without facing the issues; where a policy of "via media" or of "prudence" is used merely to cover a refusal to do anything; where there is a visible split into parties "for" and "against" the new idealism; where in such mental alienation of one group from another, action comes mainly from party politics, dominant personalities, or emotional enthusiasms created by prop-aganda; where unkind name-slinging is used to make real dialogue and acceptance impossible. Here a critical impasse is soon reached; only the external signs of true community remain. Even those who try to remain tran-quil are misjudged; they are thought insincere in the face of a common anxiety. Men go through the motions of what they have always done, or would wish to do, without the fulfillment that ought to come from it. They live in a "security void." It is made acute when they refuse the obvious dilemma of the situation: rebel or accept. The malaise can be cured by neither; neither by open irreverence, public agitation, mental alienation from the whole situation, refusal to cooperate, invocation of one's rights (from legal authority or from conscience), retreat into one's , I work; nor by timidly coveting up and finding a false refuge in permission (of authority or of conscience), or by the cowardice of giving away all serious attempt at idealism (of whatever form) and settling for no security at all. Those who rightly refuse these false avenues know that they have no anchorage left; they are nonplused and beaten. There is a "credibility gap" between themselves and any founded security, a wavering of trust in asking completely serious questions at all. In this fundamental disillusionment they cease to live in the presence of a liberating truth (since they refuse the falsehood of double truth, one of idealism and another of reality). Their life becomes shallow and superficial, and. their work is not reliable. This is the "security void." This study is a diagnosis, not a solution. It can con, dude with a simple suggestion of seven thoughts, to .be pondered in the present crisis. (1) The theory behind the "new" personalist position is m reality no different from the theory behind the "older" essentialist position. On the general level, it is simply expressing the primacy of the person over society and the primacy of charity over the social virtues. On the particular level, the cases where it might admit a refusal of conformity to the authoritative dictate of a superior can well be reduced to cases already well known in traditional moral theology: epikeia, balance of laws, inconveniences, rights of conscience, and so forth. It is true that the expression given to these cases is new; it is emotive and enthusiastic and thereby tending to more difformity than has been allowed in the older working pattern. But this does not prove the theory is incorrect; it proves only that it is ambiguous in its expression as reduced to a working pattern. It is therefore on the level of that working pattern, in practice, that any incor-rectness should be removed. At least, there is room for real "dialogue" in a theoretical agreement on founda-tions. (2) The spirit of the personalist position, as it is typi-cally expressed at present, does not appear to allow suffi-ciently for the role of social authority within a personal communityi and this defect comes from its idealism. Let us grant thi~ idealism absolutely, but let us remember that we are asking it of men who live in a sin,situation and who carry within themselves profound inclinations contrary to gene.rous and sacrificial self-giving in love. The first evidence of these inclinations is the tendency for groups to isolate within a community and to consider the expressions of love that-correspond to their .own idealism without due consideration of the interests and peculiar form of love of other groups. On the very prin-ciples of total lov~ within the total personal community, .!- ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 793 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, .Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS granting the intrinsic weakness of man, there must be some human authority to determine the forms of authen-tic love for all when need arises; and this authority must be conceded a per se place in the community. The typ-ical personalist expositions at present stress the idealism of what man is called to do somewhat at the expense of the necessary regime for its human realization, a vital part of which is authority. It is possible to rethink the meaning of authority as an inner demand of the personal community. In this way, the tendency to conceive an opposition between the expressions of a responsible authority and the inherent claims 9f love and conscience will weaken; at least, a better balance between the two will be achieved in practice, and in due time the formnlas and the working patterns will be rightly adjusted. (3) But if sin has abounded, grace has abounded even more. In assessing the present situation, we may reason-ably judge that mankind is on the threshold of a sig-nificant evolution in its living experience o[ community and of the meaning of personal love. We must not poison the wells of this inspiration. We must therefore admit, in theory and in practice, that the older static unchal-lenged working pattern of community must also evolve to be more in accord with the new inspiration. Any at-tempt to pin one's security finally in the unchanged positions of old is doomed to failure. To back down before the challenge of the present in the name of the weakness of human nature, which needs a lower stand-ard, is a practical denial of the triumph of grace. (4) This evolution in the living of community-love must of its nature be slow: "i(ll great matters must come to ripening slowly" (Congar). Those who live through the present transition and cause it must have a peculiar patience: a deep-rooted existential conviction that history is slowly changing through the measured pace of their lifetime. To the extent that their love and self-giving is really great, it will have the patience of the times, seconding and not subverting the dynamism by which God is bringing His gracious design to com-pletion in His own manner. It is perhaps in this fidelity to what is perceived as the bvolving character of provi-dence, that a genuine security can be found. Paradox-ically, it is~ patience that engenders hope, and not the reverse! (5) If social authority can and must be given a place de se in the personal community, it can and must also be found a special place de facto in the currently evolving form of personal community. Our original frailty is showing itself in a new facet: our inability to assure the tranquil passage from the older order to the new, evi-denced in the intransigence of some and the impetuosity of others, and the imprudence of all. There is need of a new awareness of humility if we are to engage correctly this exciting and dangerous transition of history. And there is need for,,social authority to recognize a new responsibility: that of assisting, with its own power of juridic firmness, the pattern of change and of progress from one order to the other. In the exercise of this office, social authority will slowly commend itself more truly to the humility our times must learn. (6) St. Thomas once described .the effects of human law as disciplina et pax. No doubt, he envisaged these mightly mysteries in the static culture of his day; but they remain valid, and needed, in the day of dynamic evolution of human living forms that is ours. Our current emergence to greater times must not be turbulent but tranquil; and the tranquility we need we must learn. We can only learn it if all those who make up the human community at present, "old" as well as "new," play their proper roles together. An "o]-der" point of view is neces-sary today to show the new inspiration, which it accepts at root, the realistic way to find its own survival. A "new" point of view is the soul of the upsurge, and its cry is for a love and a self-gift to all; it is necessary that it learn the peace of the future by establishing its own peace in the present, by accepting "togetherness" with those who do not yet appreciate its value and teaching them by deeds what it has not succeeded in communi-cating to them in words. The most unusual trait of the "new order" of love is that it can be created by real love in ariy conditions; it does not depend on special structures or circumstances but relies on its own dyna-mism. If it is to have more desirable conditi6ns in .the future, it must learn to give its own peace to those of the present. (7) Finally, those involved in this development, which means all of us, should be big enough to overlook mis-takes in detail for the greatness of the cause. We must become conscious of who we are in our times and in history; we must live with a sense of our call to the greatness of love together. In this sense, we must know not a "security void" but a "security fulfillment." + ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUNE.27, 1968 PAUL MOLINARI, S.]. Renewal of Religious Life according to the Founder's Spirit Paul Molinari, s.J., writes from Borgo Santo Spirito, 5; Rome 00100, Italy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 In presenting these few thoughts, I should like to clarify some theological points which have not, I believe, been sutticiently understood when we speak of a return to the origins of each religious institute. The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis insists on a life of union with Christ, leading us to consider Him not only as the exemplar of the life of a religious but as the very form of this life.I think that this aspect has not been sufficiently stressed, because the wealth of mean-ing of certain rich but very concise expressions of the decree has not been adequately understood. The decree deliberately avoids detail in order not to bind religious life to concrete forms, identical for all, which would pre-vent it from developing freely in Christ. Rather, it sought above all to emphasize that we must make an ef-fort to conceive and live our religious life as one of donation to Christ, in which we must share His way of livin~g, His spirit. Hence the insistence on a supernatural principle. W~ must always keep in mind that the mis-sion of the Church is a continuation of the mission of Christ and that the mission of Christ is specifically su-pernatural. We must realize, therefore, that in order to participate in the mission of Christ, in order to continue it, we must of necessity adopt His criteria. It is pre-cisely a question of a gift of life--the Word made flesh in or,der to give supernatural life, divine life, to man. Participation in the life of Christ is what gives vitality to the Church. Participation in the redeeming sacrifice is what gives life to man. It is the sacrifice of Christ giving His life for the Church that ought to lead re-ligious to give their life for the Church, that is, for the supernatural good of all of the People of God, for a more abundant communication of divine life to the entire fam-ily of man. I insist on this point precisely because today there is, at times, a tendency to stress almost exclusively the necessity of adapting the exterior apostolate and of bringing it into line with the possibilities offered by modern technological society or to concentrate almost exclusively on the social apostolate of the Church. We must not forget, however, that Christ's apostolate is not only, nor even principally, a social apostolate but a supernatural apostolate: the communication of divine life. This presupposes that we can and often ought to see to the material needs of man and interest ourselves in serious and pressing questions of social justice, but our apostolate does not stop there. We must above all consider the supernatural value of religious life as such, the value of this self-donation which, even though it may remain unperceived, attains something very precious for others on a supernatural level precisely because it is a donation, a sacrifice of self, In this context, I would like to point out that we tend too easily to overestimate the criterion of exterior effi-cacy and of visible success. Is it not true that, when Christ died on the cross, the efficacy of this sacrifice of His entire life could not be seen? It is important to emphasize this at a time when the profound value of self-donation is being called into question precisely be-cause so little is said about the guiding principle of the Lord in His apostolate. Moved by the Spirit, He spent Himself, He delivered Himself on the cross. That is the force of the Spirit. We find ourselves here in the realm of faith. In the light of faith we begin to understand the value of a life hidden in Christ, of a life of im-molation, a life of love, a life which gives up its life for others--and nothing is more beautiful than to lay down our life for others. The ultimate solution to the crisis in contemporary religious life can be found in the realization of religious life as a life of self-donation. Not that religious life should lead merely to the interior life. On the contrary, it will lead us to a great activity; it must express itself exteriorly but in such a way that it is supernatural in character. It is along these lines that we can find a solution to today's problems, particularly those concerning the social apostolate. At this point, I quote those beautiful phrases contained in the decree Per[ectae caritatis: Fired by the love which the Holy Spirit pours out in their hearts, they live their lives ever increasingly for Christ and for his Body which is the Church. Consequently, the more fervent their union with Christ through this giving of themselves, which includes the whole of their lives, the richer the life of ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder"s Spirit VOLUME 27, 1968 797 REVIEW FOR RELIG~OU5 798 the Church becomes and the more fruitful her apostolate (n. 1). The gospel brings out that the characteristic note of Christ's mission was His docility to the Holy Spirit. I think that this is why the decree insists so much~ on the Holy Spirit, His action in the Church and in the soul of founders. If Christ, the head of the Church, began His mission led by the Spirit, the Incarnation itself being the work of the Spirit, the Church, which is the Mysti-cal Body of Christ, likewise ought to be docile to the Spirit. The Church, as such, tries to be so, and she has the permanent assistance of the Holy Spirit, her soul: Christ, having been lifted up from the earth, is drawing all men to himself. Rising from the dead, he sent his life-giving Spirit upon his disciples and through this Spirit has established his body, the Church, as the universal sacrament of salvation. Sitting at the right hand of the Father, he is continually .active in the world, leading men to the Church and through her joining them more closely to himself and making them par-takers of his glorious life by nourishing them with his own body and blood. Therefore, the promised restoration which we are awaiting has already begun in Christ, is carried forward in the mission of the Holy Spirit, and through him continues in the Church (Lumen gentium n. 48). In virtue of the same principle, each member of the Church should likewise follow the motions of the life-giving Spirit. We are touching here on one of the most fundamental principles of the religious life and of the Church. As the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis says, the Holy Spirit has raised up in the Church men and women who founded religious families. These souls were called to a providential mission in the Church and were particularly docile to the action of the Holy Spirit: Indeed from the very beginning of the Church men and women have set about following Christ with greater freedom and imitating him more closely through the practice of the evangelical counsels, each in his own way leading a life dedi-cated to God. Many of them, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, lived as hermits or founded religiou~families, which the Church gladly welcomed and approved by her authority. So it is that in accordance with the Divine Plan a wonderful variety of religious communities has grown up which has made it easier for the Church not only to be e~u!pped for every good work and ready for the work of the mlnxstry--the build-ing up of the Body of Christ--but also to appear adorned with the various gifts of her children like a spouse adorned for her husband and for the manifold Wisdom of God to be revealed through her (Perfectae caritatis, n. I). The Spirit who led Christ is the same Spirit who leads those who are united to Christ and in whom, as with docile instruments, He can more freely carry on the salvific mission of communicating divine life to His Church and to all mankind. With these theological principles in mind, it is easier to understand that while the. cardinal point of renewal is the Gospel and total, unconditional surrender and consecration to the redeem-ing Christ, another is precisely the docility and fidelity of members of a religious institute to the spirit of their founder. Actually, the mission of Christ is not yet completed; it continues in the Church which must remain faithful to His inspiration. This is why charismatic graces, that is divine inspirations given in view of certain apostolic necessities, continue to be given to the Church. These graces are evident in a special way in all those who have truly given their heart to the Lord and who, without setting any conditions or limits, allow themselves to be guided by God, that is to say the saints and those great charismatic leaders, the founders and foundresses of re-ligious families. But while this action of the Holy Spirit is particularly visible in the soul of founders, it does not stop with them. The same Spirit, wishing to continue the mission that He has entrusted to the founders ~for the sake of the Church, acts in the soul of each member of the People of God and calls some of them to follow our Lord and dedicate their lives to the institutes established by these holy men and women. It is as i£ the Holy Spirit sent a ray of light which filled the soul of: the founder. This ray continues on, through the founder, until it reaches the soul of those who are called to a certain religious family. It is a ray of light which has its own particular characteristics and limitations. It is thus that institutes receive a specific mission from the Holy Spirit. For this reason there is a variety of institutes in the Church, which are all necessary. And the Holy Spirit inspires and continues to inspire the members of all religious families but in different ways, according to their specific task in the Church. It is in this sense that St. Paul, while dealing with the Mystical Body, speaks of the di-versity of functions within the Church; and there is no doubt that this variety is very good for the Church. It is extremely important, therefore, that religious know what the authentic spirit of their founder or foundress is and that they share it consciously. This is what the Council intended when it invited religious, especially in view of the renewal of their life, to discover anew the riches of this spirit and to find life-giving in-spiration in it. For that reason, the motu proprio Ec-clesiae sanctae says it is essential for each religious family to study the sources and to go down to the real roots of their institute. It is, therefore, indispensable in 4- VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Paul Molinari~ $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8OO the preparation for special chapters charged with putting into practice the Council's teachings and directives, to engage in serious and searching study concerning the charism of the founder or foundress and to discover new depths concerning the authentic inspiration which gave birth to any given institute. It is obvious that in many cases a good number of studies have already been made on this precise point, and these studies can and ought to be judiciously used. It would be an error, nevertheless, to limit such research to an analysis of these studies, because each generation has its own sensitivity, its own special g~ace for discovering certain accents, and is struck by elements which previous generations prob-ably knew of but did not make use of with the same de-gree of explicit understanding. What happens in biblical exegesis and in the authentic evolution of dogma and theology is likewise true of the progressive understanding of what the Holy Spirit wished to start with founders and continues, through their mediation, throughout the ages in the institutes which He raised up in the Church. Precisely because we are dealing here with an interven-tion of God Himself in the history of the Church and of an initiative that He wishes to prolong and renew, not only today but also in the future, it is imperative that this search for the true spirit of a founder or foundress be done with complete objectivity. In no way is it permis-sible to base such a study on feelings or on interpreta-tions and intuitions which are more or less subjective. Reverence for the work of God in the soul of the founder as well as reverence for the divine vocation by which we were called to become a member of our religious in-stitutes requires that we remain humbly open to God's light. In no way should we try to make the divine grace given to the founder coincide violently or arbitrarily with our limited personal ideas. On the contrary, the action of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founder ought to be our point of reference ]n examining our own way of thinking and acting. Much is being said today about the discernment of spirits. But this is exactly what the Church has been concerned with in regard to founders. We have the as-surance that they were acting under a charismatic im-pulse. We, in turn, participate in this same impulse to the degree that we are faithful to the grace which called us to our religious family, and that we let it de-velop and grow in us. It must be noted in this context that while the Church invites us to recognize loyally the spirit of our origins, she does not at all exclude the possibility that this spirit may find different expressions throughout the .ages. There is a tendency, at times, to identify the spirit of the founders with their works. But the spirit gave life to a work; it determined its beginning. It can happen that, as time passes, a work, begun with an intention largely determined by the needs and circumstances of the age and place in which the founder lived, has changed. In present day conditions, it may no longer b~ possible to continue these same works or, due to exterior circum-stances, to carry them on in the same way as when they were begun. Fidelity to the letter can thus become in-fidelity to the spirit of the founder. In other words, it is not sufficient simply to make an historical catalog of our works. We must try to see them, spiritually and integ-rally,~ from the inside, in order to seize the inspiration which animated the founder when he acted. It is only if we succeed in grasping this profound inspiration that we shall find, at the same time, that true fidelity to the founder which the Church is asking usa to preserve in deciding what adaptations are to be made. If the spirit of the founder is a living reality to us, we shall likewise be able to formulate it adequately in modern language, fully in accord with the contemporary situation. To be truly faithful, we must go to the very heart of the mat-ter, that is, go to the very root of the reasons why the founder acted and discover the ultimate criteria of the choices he made. We must not be content with discover-ing what the founder did; we have to discover why, whether we have grasped the inner inspiration. While reflecting so openly and clearly on this essen-tial principle, I want to make a brief point dictated by charity, justice, wisdom. It is well known that on the occasion of special chapters in all religious institutes, there is an atmosphere of unrest among truly generous religious who are loyal both to the Church and to their institute. This uneasiness is ultimately caused by an in-adequate understanding of the principles which have just been stated. On the one hand, there are religious who do not understand clearly enough that the concrete expression of the identical spirit of the founder c/m, and even ought to change according to the circumstances and mentality of succeeding generations. Every innovation, consequently, seems' to them to be a departure from the authentic spirit of the founder and, as such;' inadmissi-ble. On the other hand, there are also religious who, with a certain naivet~ which is no less serious, proclaim loudly that only the present generation has discovered the true spirit of the founder and that former genera-tions did not understand it at all. The mutual error of these two tendencies is simply that they both think that one, and only one, generation can discover once and for all what the authentic spirit of the founder is, exhaust the wealth of its possibilities, and determine defi'nitively 4, 4, Fou~w~$ ,Sp~r~g " VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" Paul Molinari, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O2 all possible authentic expressions of this spirit. But, as we have already said, such a conception errs by not taking into account human limitations and historical sense. Each generation of religious has its own strong points and its own deficiencies, it own profound intui-tions as well as its own task. It is precisely along these lines, with the greatest reverence and objectivity, that each generation of rel.igious should look towards the authentic origins of their institute and delve into the heritage of its founder's authentic inspiration. In this process of humble and reverent seeking, which is at the same time both painful and liberating, each generation should make the charism of the founder and the in-stitute their own. Each generation, through prayer, med-itation, and study, should seek to find out, according to the spirit of the founder, what ought to be kept or abandoned in the present day. As can be seen, this work is both very necessary and very delicate, requiring hum-ble and utter abnegation. But if we understand that the true patrimony of the Church and the task of renewal are at stake, we shall not be afraid to renounce personal points of view or preferences in order to go wherever the Holy Spirit may lead us. Experience teaches us, moreover, that such a return to the authentic origins of an institute is not only possible but also extraordinarily fruitful. There is immediately a very keen and positive reaction when anyone speaks with competence to religious men and women about the documents left by their founder or about his life. I am sure that we have all already experienced this. Can it be explained in any other way except by the fact that men-tion was made of something that the Holy Spirit had already put in the heart of these religious? If they are put into direct contact with the sources of their institute, they explicitly find in them what they were formerly more or less conscious of and which had led them to one particular religious family and not another. The Spirit of God gives a certain sort of interior spiritual sensitivity and a spontaneous inclination towards the spirit of the founder and its authentic manifestations. If religious are brought into direct contact with the spirit of the founder, they are moved to ever greater generosity and immediately pass to a higher plane. Many people can thus be helped to overcome their difficulties, precisely because the very root of their life has been touched. It goes without saying, moreover, that this life-giving con-tact with the authentic inspiration of the founder greatly facilitates responsible adaptation to conditions and cir-cumstances of time and place. This is obviously the reason why the conciliar decree Per[ectae caritatis de- clares that any adaptation ought to come forth as a pre-cious fruit of interior renewal, that is of a return to the gospel and to the authentic spirit Of. the founder. Let us now say a word about the concrete manner of proceeding in this extremely delicate and important matter. Experience seems to bear out the following: Af-ter the religious have been informed of work done on the sources and after they have been invited to meditate on the different aspects of renewal and even to give their opinions in writing, it is a good practice to gather to-gether those who have showed special interest in the subject, especially those who likewise have a good scien-tific preparation. Ask them to study the documents and everything that has been done previously in the way of research and analysis in order to bring to light the outstanding elements, that is, those which recur con-stantly in the thought of the founder. The outcome will not all be the same because each one has his own per-sonality and way of looking at things; but by comparing the results, a sufficiently objective view will be obtained which will permit the characteristic elements of the life and thought of the founder to be isolated. These in turn will help orient the work of renewal. When it is time to rewrite the constitutions, they can be based on the discoveries made, without fear of changing or modi-fying illegitimately the thought of the founder which these objective studies will have brought out more clearly. The next step is to compare these results with the life, constitutions, and works of today. This will be rela-tively easy if the fundamental points have already been clarified. The various editions of the constitutions, pro-mulgated at different stages in the history of the in-stitute, should be examined to see what elements have been forgotten or not sufficiently emphasized. This type of research can contribute notably to a greater direct knowledge of the sources and will bring to light again the true thought of the founder. If this research is car-ried on according to these objective criteria and is al-ways inspired by theologically and spiritually sound principles, a naive desire of change for the sake of change will be avoided. On the contrary, if changes are necessary or opportune, they will be made without great interior difficulty because all will see more clearly what Gods wants of us and how. He is asking us to mani-fest our fidelity to the authentic spirit of the founder. It is equally obvious that, in the same way, we can more easily avoid those distressing internal divisions among members of the same institute since all will have the conviction that the changes proposed are based on a ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder's Spirit VOLUME 27 19e,8 80,~ , 4. .4. Paul Molinari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O4 common desire to correspond fully to what is under-stood to be the true spirit which gave rise to the in-stitute and its authentic charism. In the same way,-it will likewise be easier to decide What changes must be made in the exterior life and even in the works of the institute. We say that it will be easier, because when it comes to works, there are naturally other problems which are generally very seri-ous and which cannot be naively ignored. But I am con-vinced that if, first of all, everyone is in agreement on the essential lines of renewal according to the spirit of the founder, courage will more easily be found when all are working together in the solidarity of a chapter. If, for example, the members of a chapter 'clearly see that today certain works no longer correspond to what the founder wanted in his day, it should be easier /or the chapter to take clear and decided decisions, without causing profound dissensions, without sidestepping the solution and without leaving all the most serious deci-sions to the sole authority of the superior general and. his council. Would it not be better for the chapter, which truly represents the institute, to take essential decisions, basing them on a greater knowledge of the spirit and charism of the founder and his work, and thus tracing the way for times to come? In answer to Christ's call, religious left all things to ,follow Him, that is, to go with Christ wherever He wishes to go. It seems evident that Christ wishes to go where the needs are the most urgent. One of the things that we would do well to consider when we speak of union with Christ in the religious life is that it is not simply a question of going out to the poor but of leaving all things, and following Christ in a spirit of donation and complete availability. This can sometimes mean leaving well established works that are running well but which, having reached the point where they do run well, no longer need us. In such cases, led by the spirit of the founder, we should go where social condi-tions are more or less similar to those that prompted the founder to act in his day. It is then that we have truly vital contact with the authentic spirit of the founder. In a certain sense, it can be said that where this spirit adaptatioh is' found, religious live in closer union with the spirit of the founder. Indeed, when, as it were, the very soul of the founder has been refound, there is no crisis in religious life and vocations are not lacking. It is clear that those souls who have followed their founder .most closely have found, under the motion of the Holy Spirit, what they were seeking. Naturally, it would be absurd to maintain that all present-day works of religious should be abandoned or that all need to be adapted or again that all changes should be made instantly. We must, however, have the courage to face these questions honestly and to solve them with the same courage that characterized the action of founders, the courage of the saints. It is worthwhile meditating, in this light, on the fol-lowing words of His Eminence, Cardinal Agagianian, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith: Evolution has considerably modified the physiognomy of Christianity and the sign value of this type of Institution. Where formerly there were charitable works to answer press-ing social needs there is now state socialization or the national-ization of an entire sector. If this has not been done yet, it is at least the intention of young governments and is being planned by large official international organizations. Are not our institutions, which were begun with such generosity and which answered such authentic social needs, now anachronistic, technically .surpassed, not viable financially, lacking true Christian witness value since other official organisms which are better equipped have taken charge of this sector? We must therefore avoid duplication, useless waste, unequal competi-tion, and rethink our activity, which must be missionary to the greatest possibl~, degree and carried on in the light of an apostolic vision which is more freshly evangelical. It is a ques-tion of discovering the true exigencies of the hour, of estab-lishing priorities, and of effectuating our own "reconversion" by turning to work which is doubtlessly socially less spectacula~ but which is more specifically a work of the Church, a work which is directly missionary in scope and character. At the present time, religious must be very open to the grace of the Spirit in order to follow Christ effectively and continue His mission. We should all clearly un-derstand that the charismatic grace given to the founder and his institute is a call from God, a talent which has been confided to us. God asks that the talents He gives be well used. We must not be afraid to make them fructify. Such a fear should never paralyze our generosity and our donation to Christ. It is therefore not enough, necessarily, to keep works just as they are. They must be made to bear the greatest amount of fruit possible. How can this be done? That is where the difficulty lies. It is certainly not permissible simply to keep the capital. If the apostolic return amounts only to 2% or 3%, we must ask ourselves if this capital could not be used in a better way. If we consider the exigencies of the Lord, we can more calmly envisage the fact that the decisions to be taken will sometimes lead to very serious changes, but we must accept them in a spirit of love and fidelity to the true charism of the founder and his work. But we must consider more specifically and more ex-plicitly the ecclesial dimension of our personal vocation as well as the vocation of our institute. The institute is part of the Church and it has a specific function within ÷ ÷ ÷ the Church. It is a living part of the Church and it will have life insofar as it accepts its function for the sake of the Church. This will help us to penetrate more and more into our vocation of being available for the service of Christ and His Church. We will experience the joy of giving life, the consciousness of being the grain of wheat which falls to the ground and dies, and to bear fruit a hundredfold. Problems will find their solution in this deeper vision of religious life as a life of union with Christ in order to continue, in Him and with Him, His mission of communicating divine life to man. 4, ÷ Paul Molinad~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80fi SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S New Trends in Community Living Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible; we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible to us; we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. --1 John 1: I-3 In* these opening lines of John's First Epistle, he is trying to translate into a multiplicity of feeble human concepts and words, Life itself which is not many but one, not a thing but a person--the triune Person of the Godhead. When discussing the "new trends in commu-nity living" with you, I shall attempt to follow the exam-ple of John. Words are a very necessary component of human communication, but nevertheless annoying. As soon as we describe a reality we break it into parts and tend to give the impression that if every part described is present, we have the reality itself. Rather, the reality of community that I hope to translate into practical and concrete terms, is not composite but one--permeated with the dynamism of that divine incarnated union John spoke of. Unfortunately, that dynamism cannot be put into Words; it must be lived and experienced. Therefore, the approach in this paper will be experi- * This is the text of an address given in May, 1968, to a meeting of Canadian major superiors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 27, 1968 80~ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis~ $.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 ential and practical and not a rephrasing of the excellent literature on community with which you are familiar. First, we shall examine the bases or principles upon which community is created, investigate the trends evi-dent in community living today, attempt to describe the type of community life that is unfolding from these trends, and propose some practical ways of effecting the transition from the present structures of community life to that form toward which we are evolving. Rather than burden you with another definition of community, I would prefer a descriptive approach. We are well aware of the different kinds of communities that exist among men. There is the natural community of the family and the artificial or contrived community of the organization, society, or state. All too often, we have described the religious com-munity solely in terms of one ot~ these two societies: our terminology of mother, father, brother, sister, reflects the familial concept; and our highly structured religious corporations betray the organizational concept. Al-though religious community can benefit from aspects of these two basic human groupings, we must with deep faith live the essence of religious community as an en- Spirited or Spirit-filled community: "Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (Jn 17:21). To the individual person who has embraced the re-ligious life, what then is community? I enter community so that I may begin to gift myself to others, to give the life I have to another, and to re-ceive from them in the same way; and this transmitting, this sharing of life, of wholeness is carried over into my apostolate. This life is given and received in faith be-cause the life or dynamism of community that permeates it is not my own--it is the life of the Spirit, the Spirit of Christ who shows us the Father; my gift to God-~a gift which has come from Him in the first pIace--is to give life to others by the life that is in me. True community, therefore, is created, not structured or legislated. PRINCIPLES The principles or bases upon which an en-Spirited community is created must be grasped, not only intel-lectually, but also experientially by every member in the community, although not necessarily to the same extent or depth. None of these principles stand alone; rather they are interdependent and interrelated. Trinitarian The ultimate model of en-Spirited community is the trinitarian life as it is lived by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We have heard this so often that we tend to dis-miss it as another cliche. What does it mean in actual practice? It means that each person in community must be and do what God Himself through Christ and in the Spirit is and does: namely, He gathers, unites, establishes communion. How? By communication. Supportive words, other means of communicating love give life to another, as the Father begets His Son, the Word. This gift to one another and the response from one another engenders love--the Spirit. It is at this point where Trinity and en-Spirited community merge. ~lgape. If this trinitarian love-life is incarnated and experi-enced, the cohesive bond in community is the living agape of Christ, not the force of rule or custom. We must have the courage to examine and question the place of rule in religious life. In actual fact, which has frequently taken precedence---our holy rule or the gospel? The experience of agape is an entirely new human ex-perience. It is this gift of God--the Spirit. Pagans could only look at the early Christian community and exclaim: "See how these Christians love one another." But the words "love" or "charity" are, at best, a weak transla-tion. Agape is the knowledge and love of God--that very dynamism of the Trinity itself--which, through a free gift of God, has been incarnated, embodied in human community--a Spirit-filled community. Peace and joy, in which are contained all the other fruits of the Spirit, characterize such a religious community. The ultimate expression of agape is the love feast itself--the Eucharist. The en-Spirited or agape community is effected by the liturgy--when members are conscious of communicating or uniting themselves together in Christ. In turn, their liturgical expression is intensified by their community life. Incarnational Spirituality In order that community reflect trinitarian life or agape--which are different expressions of the same real-ity- the spirituality upon which it is based must be truly incarnational. Again we are back to the importance of faith. If the Son of God, the Word, became flesh, be-came incarnate, then the world, the whole world is "shot through with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins wrote. We cannot arbitrarily determine which particular ma-terial signs signify the presence of Christ; this is an in-sidious form of idolatry. Worse still, we cannot attempt first to establish a relationship with the transcendent God and then go out to other people. Because of the Incarnation, the transcendent God has been revealed to + ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 809, ÷ ÷ Sisger M. Denis, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 us precisely as immanent. This immanence is continued in the world through the gift of the Spirit. The experi-ence of agape, the witness of a Spirit-filled community, is the experiential embodiment of this transcendence. In community agape we realize the fullness of the In-carnation. Respect for the Integrity of the Individual Person Community is not achieved through uniformity; but in practice our preoccupation with uniformity often militates against that respect for tl~e integrity of the individual person so necessary for the developme.nt of an en-Spirited community. This respect involves accept-ance first of ourselves as we are--not as we would like to be. We must risk taking off our masks, not only to others, but also to ourselves, and be truly authentic. I never realized what a mask the traditional habit could be until a few summers ago at the Superior's Conference in Portland, Oregon. During the day we walked around very conscious of religious decorum and dignity. When the magic hour of 2:00 p.m. struck, we converged on the swimming pool. As each layer of clothing came off, the person emerged. This respect [or the integrity of the person involves acceptance ot another in the same way---as they are and not as we would like them to be. If we love only those who share our ideas, our thoughts and aspirations, then we are merely loving an extension of ourselves. We must love what is truly the other--in which there is nothing of oneself. This acceptance is a respect based not on toleration or on charity or even because we see Christ in another; rather this respect is based on the unique dignity created in that person by God Him-self. Often we bypass this unique dignity for "good and noble reasons." Our acceptance and love should always be based on the person, not dependent on their actions. This is a great danger in community life, where we do 'not have the natural ties of blood as in the family and where much stress is placed on uniformity. Community, as we have been describing it, is not necessarily the common life. This communal acceptance involves a sharing, an openness with one another dictated not on my terms but by the other person's real needs for growth. In listening to the conversation of some religious I get the impression that self-fulfillment is selfishness, not selflessness. We only"receive when we give. And very often giving hurts. Serf-fulfillment is the very mystery of the death-resurrection of Christ incarnated and re-peated in the lives of men and women. Originality, Creativity The external structures of the en-Spirited community --structures which may take many and varied forms according to times and places--should always leave room for the development of originality and creativity among its members. I am merely stating in concrete terms the theological problem of institution versus charism. Spontaneous .4 ction Closely related to the need for originality and crea-tivity is the need for spontaneous action in community. A few years ago I read an examination of conscience in which was the question: "Have I organized myself so intensely that I have no time for spontaneous generos-ity?" We might well ask the question on the com-munal level. Is our day so laid out, charges so spelled out, that members function as automatons--cheerfully perhaps, but not spontaneously? Responsibility Finally, true community fosters responsibility, the ability to respond. Men and women can come to good-ness only through a knowing and free choice. The other side of the coin is a sharing in the authority on which responsibility depends; and this authority, in turn, is derived, from the community. Members are responsible to one another personally and to the group collectively. The religious or Spirit-filled community, therefore, is based on the agape-life of the Trinity as incarnated among men. Its growth and development depends upon the respect for the integrity of the individual person with the necessary correlatives of personal authenticity and acceptance. Desirable structures permit and foster originality, creativity, responsibility, and spontaneous action both individually and collectively. CURRENT TRENDS With these principles in mind we shall now attempt to describe the current trends among religious in Can-ada, trends which will affect community living. These trends were gleaned from the recent reports of the eight round-table discussion teams which were organized across Canada by the Canadian Religious Congress to contribute to a survey of religious life. In this era of post-Vatican II, we are coutinually reminded to be alert to the signs of the times, to significant indications or movements in a parti.cular direction. Whether the trend be evaluated as good or bad, as desirable or un-desirable, it remains, nevertheless, the voice of the Spirit speaking to us. Discernment of the message is not as easy as discernment of the trend. 4. ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 811 Sister M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,4 ttitudes Very evident is the evolution of new and more posi-tive attitudes among religious. In relation to the in-stitution, there is a greater respect for the person and the charisms of the individual. Religious place a priority of being over seeming, of the person over the actions. The false dichotomy between body and soul is diminished. A new appreciation for the "world" which has lost many of its former negative connotations is evidenced in an understanding of eschatology as be-ginning here below in the form of earthly happiness. Therefore, there is less stress on the'negative aspect of sacrifice and a grea~er emphasis on a joyful, more positive asceticism. Resurrection, not death is predomi-nant. There is a tendency to diminish the artificial distinction between the natural and the supernatural. Thus, the religious sees his or her dedication to Christ and to mankind as one. This unifying trend involves a rejection of the logical distinction between the transcend.- ent God and the immanent God, where the existential is concerned. Spirituality The incarnational spirituality that has evolved from these attitudes integrates human values and identifies "human experience" and the "experience of God." God is encountered .at work in the world present in and through human realities. Throughout the entire study there was evidence of a strong trend toward assuming a more personal responsi-bility for one's life of faith involving a renewed self-commitment. Thins desire for personal responsibility and the previously mentioned attitudes have strongly in-fluenced the trends in the prayer life of Canadian re, ligious today. In the search for new and authentic forms of prayer, none of the traditional forms have escaped honest scrutiny. Although religious believe in the necessity of prayer, the form or expression of this prayer is radically changing, primarily due to a new understanding of prayer in which there is no separation between prayer and action. Looking upon everything as prayer, especially encounter with others, was a very pronounced trend. Therefore, religious desire more freedom in their prayer life--with a structural minimum that gives more consideration to personal needs, that encourages authenticity, and that is adapted to the rhythm suited to the life each one is leading. The daily obligation for Mass is. questioned because of the need for' respecting the personal spiritual rhythm of the religious. In the celebration of the Eucharist, the re- ligious insist less on the idea of sacrifice and more on the notions of communion and gathering. There is an increased trend toward community encounter in the Eucharist within the parish community. Because of their strong faith in the value of interpersonal relationships and group accomplishment, the trends indicate the de-sire of religious for group reflection in prayer. Prayer is no longer a private matter but is becoming a means fulfilling the need for an expression of friendship and human support. The place of God in prayer is not thereby lessened, because of the identity of "human experience" and "the experience of God." The starting point of prayer--personal or communal --is likewise incarnational--an event, something con-nected with themselves, the needs of the world as re-vealed in continuing salvation history--more than the speculative knowledge of a transcendent God. Institution Religious from coast to coast are questioning--not theoretically but existentially--the meaning and purpose of religious life itself. The reports indicate, however, that this scrutiny is not negative, but positive--in spite of the front page articles in the NCR. Structures are not disregarded but desired if they help real personal commitment. Community of life, however, takes prece-dence over institution which is understood as something to help community of life, to make and keep its mem-bers more fully human persons. The institution is re-jected under certain aspects because of unfortunate ex-periences resulting from harshness, impersonalism, legal-ism, and paternalism. Rule Regarding the rule, the trend is toward getting away from the traditional rule because it no longer measures up to the needs of the time. Also evident is a lack of regard for unnecessary canonical legislation. Religious women, in particular, are resentful of the paternalism manifested toward them by the Sacred Congregation of Religious and in canon law. External Signs Also strong is the trend to reject archaic signs of identification as religious. These externals, such as the habit, the canonical cloister, the rule, community con-trols, are seen as objectionable to the extent that they separate the religious from the secular world. These religious wish to remove the barriers imposed by monastic influences of another age. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 813 Silence Closely connected to their notions on spirituality, prayer, and religious structures are the views of religious on silence. They admit the value of silence but not according to traditional concepts. Personal silence is valuable as a means to encountering the other; it is closely related to charity. Rather than an absence of words, silence is an inner attitude. Thus, they refuse to keep a conformist silence or silence of rule considered for its own sake. Size oI Community Especially strong are the desire and the realization of riving in small homogeneous groups because of the need for human interpersonal relationships, for authenticity, for the development of the person. In this way, religious desire to bear effective witness both to poverty and to service. Thus there is a trend toward experimen-tation in this more fraternal way of life: some are living in smaller groups; others are living in apartments. Secular World Today's religious desire to socialize more naturally wid~ other people. In fact, there is evidence of a trend toward seeking fraternity outside the usual religious community group. On the one hand, some see this trend as a reaction against an incorrectly understood type of ¯ community life; on the other hand, some see this as an overflow of the love that is established in true com-munity. Whatever be the case, we must attempt to read the signs of the times; if a person does not find accept-ance and human fellowship within the community, he will seek it elsewhere. Increased activity in the secular world is practically a fait accompli for most religious who are now reading contemporary books, going to movies, taking part in politics, and maintaining contact with the world of art and artists. 4- 4- 4- Sister M. Denis~ S.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .4 uthority Religious admit that they will readily sh~re personal experiences with their fellow religious but less willingly with one who is in authority--a spiritual director or a superior. The authority figure in practice is not yet seen as a friend. Strongly rejecting paternalism, religious do not wish to be dependent upon a superior. Authority itself is not rejected; religious still see the necessity of someone in charge of the group. But this person--the superior--should be an available and approachable moderator--one among brothers. Authority is seen as service and coresponsibility. There is a trend, but not yet clearly defined, toward a concept of shared authority with joint responsibility in view of the good of the group. Because of the dignit

Issue 27.6 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 61~2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania xgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by R~;vIEW :-'OR RELIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Marl,'l_and. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )-ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW VOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests sbould include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 91203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a rernitlan¢e should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 4~)8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint ~-ouis, Missouri 63103. Questions for aoswermg should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 6 FRANCISCAN FRIARS OF THE ATONEMENT Provisional Constitutions [Editor's Note: REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS is grateful to the Very Reverend Michael F. Daniel, S.A., superior general of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, who kindly granted per-mission to the REvmw to print the text of the Friars' pro-visional constitutions approved by the 1967-1968 general chap-ter. The REVIEW would also be grateful to any religious order or congregation who would send in copies of their revised consti-tutions (along with any relevant material that may seem partic-ularly important). Although it would be impossible to print all of such constitutions and materials in the REvIEw, all of them will be kept on file at the REVIEw as a recordof the creativity of American religious and each will be carefully con-sidered for printing in the REvIEw as samples of representative constitutions now being drawn up by U.S.A. religious. Copies of such revised and provisional constitutions and related docu-ments should be sent to: R. F. Smith, S.J., Editor; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, M!ssouri 63103.] . INTRODUCTION THE SOCIAL STRUGTURE OF THE COMMUNITY 1. In the Mystical Body of Christ we have the perfect image of what the religious community should be in its way of life and order. In the body we have the head and all the members. Each has a task to serve the good of the whole in subordination to the head. From the unity of all the members with the head a well ordered community, a healthy body is derived. This harmonious coordination of head and members is the practical basis of true unity in a religious community. It is, then, the principle to be fol-lowed by all the .Friars in exercising their responsibility within the Community. 2. Adaptation is always a part of the religious life. If undertaken carefully it ensures maximum vigor and efficacy within the Community. In order for the whole Community to periodically renew itself each General Chapter shall review the,~con-tents of the Book of General Statutes. The General Chap- + Constitutions~ VOLUME 27/1968 979 ter is the only competent authority to formulate, elimi-nate or modify in any way the General Statutes of the Community. Changes in the Constitutions may be effected by the Holy See alone. The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority vote, has the right to request such changes. Authentic inteipretation of the Rule and Constitutions is reserved to the Holy See, that of the Book of General Statutes to the General Chapter. PART I CHAPTER I THE NATURE OF THE COMMUNITY AND ITS SERVICE TO THE CHURCH 3. The Friars of the Atonement are a community of re-ligious in the Franciscan tradition, committed to living an intensive form of the Christian life, following the inspira-tion given by their Founder, Father Paul James Francis (Lewis T. Wattson), and existing specifically to help ful-fill the Church's mission of Christian Unity by engaging in ecumenism, which is the work of restoring the visible unity of all Christians, and by bearing witness to the Gos-pel through mission activity among Christians and non- Christians. + 4. + Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98O 4. As envisioned by their Founder, the ideal of unity in all its aspects should guide and direct the lives of the Friars. They are to seek unity with God and unity with one another; they are to preserve unity within the Church, promote true and complete unity among all Christians and bring all men into the fullness of unity with the People of God. The common calling of all the Friars is the Christian Unity vocation. By Christian Unity the Friars understand the various efforts to promote the unity of all Christians and also mission activity among Christians, restoring or strengthening their oneness with God and with one another, and bearing witness to the Gospel among non- Christians to achieve the unity of all men with God, for "it is God Who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation" (II Cor. 5:17). 5. Promoting Christian Unity by prayer, sacrifice and work, personal and corporate, is the apostolate of the Friars of the Atonement. Since the Church is deprived of that fullness of unity willed by Christ, when divisions exist among Christians, the Friars will make every effort to contribute toward healing these divisions. In the spirit of the Founder the Friars are to seek opportunities for ecumenical involve-ment as the principal dimension of activity in the Com-munity and the principal mark of identity for the Community, whether they 'are at home or abroad, whether they are working among Christians or non- Christians. Acting out of the innermost requirements of her own catholicity, and in obedience to the mandate of Christ, the Church strives to proclaim the Gospel to all men. The work of evangelization both strengthens and extends the unity of the Church. For this reason the Friars devote a generous portion of personnel to spreading the Gospel among peoples where it is not known, and preserving and revivifying it where it is in danger of being lost. 6. The effectiveness of the Community depends on a common spirit and mutual cooperation. All the activities of the Community have an obvious relationship and any disjunction between them ought to be avoided. 7. In order that their service to the Church be both au-thentic and effective the Friars strive in all they do to be deeply loyal to Christ and His Church. In the Franciscan tradition they express this particularly by their fidelity to the Vicar of Christ, by their reverence towards all Bishops, by the honor they show to all priests and by their dedicated service to all the People of God. CHAPTER II t~ELIGIOUS PROFESSION 8. Religious life is a sign of the Church, the Community of God's People gathered together visibly and effectively bearing witness to His saving work. Its purpose is union with God, the pursuit of perfect charity through the following of Christ and service to the Church. For the Friars this, especially, means preparing the way for recon-ciliation of all men with the Triune God. 9. The Friars of the Atonement, as religious, seek in com-munity to respond to their common vocation by conse-crating themseh, es to the work of developing to the maxi-mum the state of sonship of God received in baptism. In responding to this call the Friars, individually and com-munally, enter into a covenant of trust and confidence in God's promises and seal that covenant on their own part by professing the evangelical counsels lived in community. ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 10. The act of religious profession for the Friar means that he ,willingly frees himself and willingly dedicates himself to live more profoundly according to the Holy Gospels. Evangelical life consists in the realistic accep-tance of salvation effected by the death and resurrection of Christ and the sending of the Holy Spirit; it consists in accepting God's design for men, that is, His will for all men to be at one with Him; it means to live according to the renewed condition of man to whom in Christ Jesus has been given the grace of sonship. 11. To live the religious life is to witness to the fact that true life in Christ can be realized and that holiness is possible for all to achieve. The Friars, therefore, profess the evangelical counsels to express their own and the Community's total commitment to the mission of Christ in the world and to witness to the Pilgrim Church's active expectation of Christ's Second Coming, when all things will be made at-one with God in Christ. Celibacy 12. Religious are especially called to witness to the Christian's baptismal death and new life to which they are raised in the Spirit. The Friars of the Atonement pro-fess the vow of celibacy precisely because it allows them to give expression to this mystery, or freedom won for us by Christ, which both enables and requires the Christian to love and serve God and man. The vow of celibacy is the positive choice to observe chastity in the unmarried state for the sake of Christ and for the sake of His life's work: the establishment of the Kingdom of God. By the vow of celibacy each Friar con-secrates himself in his aifective life to the Lord who is the revelation of the Father's love (Jn. 15:13) and who enables the Friar to respond with his own love so that he too can lay down his life for the brethren (Jn. 3:16). Friars A tonertumt REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 13. Christian celibacy is a gift from the Holy Spirit. If lived fully, celibacy witnesses to the love of Christ for His Church, to the real possibility of a perfect human com-munity founded on Christ's love, and finally to that per-fect union with God which will be man's when the King-dom of God is fully realized. Perseverance in the celibate life demands a life of self-denial and discipline, a deep personal prayer life and an abiding trust in the sufficiency of God's grace. Poverty 14. The Friars profess the vow of poverty to express their faith and trust in their Heavenly Father, Who provides for all who seek first the Kingdom of God and His justice, and to be at one with Christ Who "had no place to lay his head" (Matt. 8:20). 15. Profession of the vow of poverty means to sincerely acknowledge one's need for the Lord. It means to be so deeply imbued with the conviction of God's love and con-cern for men that one places himself in God's hands, de-pending on Him for strength and protection. Through this vow the Friar, like St. Francis, shares in the poverty of Christ so that the riches of God can be made available to men (II Cor. 13:3-4). For the Friars of the Atonement the ideal of poverty is best translated into actual observance by a conscientious adherence to the principle enunciated by Father Paul, namely, to use the minimum for self and the maximum for God. Obedience 16. The loving obedience of Christ is God's greatest glory and the cause of man's salvation (Rom. 5:19). The Friars of the Atonement, therefore, profess the vow of obedience as the principal expression of their response to God's call to share more intimately in the life of Christ. By religious obedience the Friars unite their wills to the will of God and profess their intention to work together in community under the direction of their superiors, to arrive at perfect charity and to serve the People of God. 17. Obedience which is informed by charity enhances one's human dignity and freedom. It means the generous and energetic use of one's talents and abilities in fuIfilIing assignments and directives. For the Friars the practice of obedience is essentially an exercise of one's responsibility in view of his freely made response to the call of God to the religious life within the Community of the Friars of the Atonement. Obedience facilitates that direction from the Church and from religious superiors which is conducive to an orderly and effective Christian life as well as to a fruitful apostolate. 18. Those Friars called to the exercise of authority shall recognize that this special practice of obedience obliges them to be attentive to the Spirit working among the members and to serve their confreres so that under their Ieadership the objectives of the Community will be achieved. Docile to the action of the Holy Spirit, and out of love for God's will, a11 the Friars, then, are to show humble obedience to their superiors, whom they shall see as the representatives of Christ, according to the norms of the ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 983 Rule, these Constitutions and the Book of General Statutes. RELIGIOUS FOR1VIATION AND EDU~,ATION 19. Religious Formation is the process of communicating to the religious an ever deepening knowledge of and a commitment to the person of the Word Incarnate. 20. The object of religious formation programs within the Community of the Friars of the Atonement is to imbue its members with and to aid them to grow in the spirit of the Gospels according to the inspiration of the Father Founder. These programs likewise are to be the means to set be-fore the Friars the ideals of the Founder so that all will be formed in the common vocation of the Community. 21. Religious formation provides the conditions for the possibility of the Friars' initial experience of Franciscan brotherhood in communal worship, in fraternal responsi-bility and in apostolic endeavors cooperatively under-taken. 22. Houses of formation and education should be such that genuine community can be created and apostolic works, ac.cording to the development of those being formed, may be pursued. 23. In order that formation and education may be effec-tive, direct responsibility for them shall be entrusted to particular Friars. Nevertheless, each and every Friar shares the responsibility for these programs and partici-pates in them by his living of religious community life and by his efforts to realize with the Community its spirit and aims. + + + Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Candidates 24. The Community has the right to expect its candidates to be open to guidance, to be willing to learn, to be de-voted to the Community and to be generous in their efforts to make its spirit and aims a part of their lives. Each candidate is expected to have an ardent desire to serve God and the Church through the fraternal com-munity of the Friars, and should develop in himself a sensitivity for others so that he may live communally. 25. On his part, the candidate may expect the Com-munity to guide him in his development as a total person in community, and that the Community will offer him the living experience of its own life and work. He may also expect the opportunity that his own natural abilities will be developed, his capabilities brought to the fore and his generosity given expression. 26. Admission into the Congregation of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement at the time of novitiate means participation in a fraternal community wherein all the members share its life and apostolic aims. The Father General as the head of the whole Commun-ity, with the consent of the General Council, after re-ceiving counsel from the Directors of the pre-Novitiate program, receives candidates into the Community of the Friars. 27. Each Friar is to have the opportunity, by means of education and experience, to develop his own unique area of contribution, according to the needs of the Com-munity. In this way the comprehensiveness of the entire Community will be increased and enriched. Superiors and Directors primarily have the responsibil-ity to work with the Community to discover, to develop and to orientate the talents of each Friar according to what is demanded for a faithful apostolate of Unity and an energetic community life. "CHAPTER IV P~ELIGIOUS COMMUNIT~ Lx~E 28. The Friars of the Atonement as a community recog-nizes that they have been called together by the Spirit into the charity and fellowship of Christ Jesus. Their fraternity depends on their oneness of heart and mind in Christ Jesus (Acts 4:32) and in their common spirit of "rejoicing in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the Atonement" (Rom. 5:11). As a witness to the bonds that unite them, the Friars hold all goods in common, share life in community, join in fellowship for worship, and perform their apos-tolic ministry in a spirit of brotherhood. 29. All the Friars contribute to the upbuilding of the whole Community, because each Friar accepts responsi-bility for our way of life through a fraternal sharing in the same obligations and rights. These are exercised in a manner commensurate with each Friar's ability and his assigned role or office within the Congregation, for there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; there are varieties of ministries, but the same Lord; + 4. 4. 985 .there are varieties of workings; but the same God, who works all things in all , (I Cor. 12:4-7).' "30. "The Eucharistic Liturgy proclaims the saving death of the Lord ufitil He comes (I Cor. 11:26) and in it the 'Friar receives Christ's Body and Blood, the principal source of man's reconciliation with God. First place, then, is given t6 the celebration of the Eucharistic Liturgy be-cause "the doctrine we are to preach and ever hold before the eyes of men is the at-one-ment of man with God, and the sole insirument of its accomplishment is the Holy Cross" (Father Paul). '311 :Wfie.n praying the Canonical Hours, the Liturgy of 'Praise, [he Community stands before the Lord in'the name qf the whole People of God, interceding for the needs of man and "giving glory and honor and benedic-tion to Him who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever" (.Apoc. 4:9.). Because this is so, the ordinary daily community prayer offered by the Friars is the Liturgy. of Praise, so that the whole day may be made holy with glory given to God. 4. .4- 4. Friars of the o'Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~986 32. Since the Church wills religious to give an increas-ingly clearer revelation of Christ, the Friars should en-deavor to manifest Him both in c6nt~mplation and in proclaiming God's Kingdom to the multitude. Drawing on the authentic sources of Christian.tradition, the Friars recognize the need for both personal prayer and endeavor to cultivate a.spirit of prayer rooted in Sacred Scripture and in the Sacred Liturgy: Religious reflection, too, .can enri'ch and make the Friars more effective in responding, both individually , and. communally, to the vocation and. work of the'Congre- .gation. Above all, it .can deepen the Friars' 'prayer life and the intensity of their communion with God and with each other, because of Christ. The Friars' practice of re-ligious reflection, then, ought to offer opportunities for them in charity to assist, to encourage, and to counsel each other. Religious reflection is not passive--on the ,contrary, it is genuinely human, begetting stability and maturity and fostering human love and unity. 33. Because of their particular devotion to Christ's Atone-ment, and following the example of Father Paul who made prayer and sacrifice a basic way of life, the Friars of the Atonement are encouraged to perform k, oluntary and personal acts of mortification. The Friars, too, are reminded that as a commianity they should offer corporate witness to their Atonement voca-. tion. Fidelity to the way of life and work to which they are committed is to be their primary corporate witness. Particular mortifications and penances which are mutu-ally agreed to by all the Friars in a local community, like-wise, should be part of their lives so that corporately they, too, can fill up ".what is lacking in Christ's atfliction for the sake of His Body, that is, the Church" (I Cot. 1:24). 34. Where true Christian life is experienced something ~f God is discovered. "Where love is, there is God." There-fore all of the Friars are to strive to create an atmosphere which is cheerful and friendly in all our houses so that they will truly be places fit for genuine community life. The Friars, too, shall express their respect for one another as individuals within the Community. This is to be done by honoring each Friar's privacy and by .extend-ing ordinary courtesies to each other. Finally, the tradition of Franciscan hospitality .which so characterized Father Founder is to be the. established policy in all our houses. Visitors are to be welcomed and, according to local circumstances, a hospitality marked by generosity is to be extended to them. 35. Mindful of the words of the Lord, "Whatsoever you do for the least o~ my brethren you do for me," and of the fact that the infirm are both a sign of the suffering of Christ among us and a call from God to respond with love and compassion, every care and consideration is to be shown to the sick Friars, and everything that is spiritually and physically beneficial to them is to be' provided as far as possible. . Likewise, whatever good the Friars have shown each other should not cease with their death, because the bonds that religious profession establishes among the Friars do not cease with death. The memory and dedication of the deceased Friars should often be recalled, .so that tile fruit of their good works may live on. On their anniversary day some remembrance of them should be made in common. PART II GOVERNMENT OF THE CONGREGATION CHAPTER I '. THE GENERAL CHAPTER" 36. The General Chapter, whether Ordinary or E~raor-dinary, lawfully assembled, is the supreme authority ~of 4. + Constitutions ; VOLUME 27; 1968:~ ' 987 the Congregation. The General Chapter is the concern of all the Friars. Consequently each Friar has the right and the duty to propose matters for its consideration. 37. An Ordinary General Chapter of Affairs shall be convoked every three years. An Ordinary General Chap-ter of Elections and of Affairs shall be convoked every six years. An Extraordinary General Chapter shall be convoked when the office of Father General becomes va-cant. An Extraordinary General Chapter shall be con-voked upon the decisive vote of the General Council, with the approval of the Holy See. An Extraordinary Genei:al Chapter of Affairs may be convoked if a two-thirds majority of perpetually professed Friars request it and the General Council consents. An Extraordinary General Chapter of Elections may be convoked if a two-thirds majority of perlSetually professed Friars request it, the General Council consents, and the Holy See approves. 38.The Father General or, if the office of Father General is vacant, the Vicar-General, is responsible for convoking the General Chapter and conducting the elections for delegates thereto. The procedures established in Canon Law, in these Constitutions, and in the General Statutes, and in the~ Rite to be Observed in holding the General Chapter, are to be followed in all General Chapters, whether Ordinary or Extraordinary. + 4- 4- ~'rhrrs o! t~ Atonement Capitulars 39. The incumbent Father General and the four C6uncil-lors General are Capitulars ex ol~cio. The other Capitu-lars are a representative number of Friars elected accord-ing to the norms of the General Statutes from: A) Combination of the larger houses; B) Geographic combinations of other houses; C) Friars at large; D) Seniority combinations. The General Chapter alone has the fight to designate which houses of a locality are to be combined and the number of delegates from each combination. Between Genera/Chapters, if a house or houses, should be estab-lished outside of the localities prescribed, the General Council by a deliberative vote shall determine to which locality it or they belong. This designation shall be con-firmed or changed by the subsequent General Chapter. FOR RELIcq0US 40. All perpetually professed Friars have both an active 988 and passive voice in the election of delegates to the Gen- eral Chapter. Capitulars shall attend the Chapter under bne title only. CHAP~R II THE GENERAL COUNCIL AND GENERAL CURIA 41. The Father General and the four Councillors General constitute the General Council. It is the duty of the Gen-eral Council to govern the Congregation collegially with-out prejudice to the authority of the Father General. Since the government of the Congregation is collegial, the Father General will see to it that all members of the General Council are well informed concerning the affairs of the whole Congregation so they can actively participate in the government of the Congregation. The General CounciI, together with the Secretary General, the Treasurer General and the Procurator Gen-eral to the Holy See constitute the General Curia. The members of the General Curia shall be perpetually pro-fessed and are subject to the Father General alone. The Father General 42. Outside of the time of the General Chapter, supreme authority within the Congregation is vested in the Father General, who with the aid of his Council governs and administers the whole Congregation in accordance with Canon Law, the Decrees of the General Chapter, these Constitutions and the Book of General Statutes. The Father General shall be a priest at least ten years professed and thirty-five years of age. He is elected for a term of six years by the General Chapter and may be elected for a successive term of six years. Should the Father General judge it his duty to resign from office he will submit his reasons for resignation to the Holy See and await its decision. Should it seem necessary to remove the Father General from office, the General Councillors, after due delibera-tion and a secret vote, will refer the matter in proper form to the Holy See and await its decision. At least once a month and whenever else he may deem opportune, the Father General will convoke and when present preside over meetings of the General Council. With the advice of the General Council the Father General shall implement policies set by the General Chapter for the Congregation. With the advice and, if necessary, the consent of the General Council, he shall inaugurate and implement policies that are deemed valua-ble for the Congregation. At least once every three years the Father General, either personally or through a delegate, shall make an official Visitation of each house of the Congregation. ÷ ÷ 4- Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 989 ÷ 4. ÷ Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Father General shall prepare and sign any neces-sary reports to the Holy See. He shall likewise prepare and sign the report to the General Chapter on the state of the Congregation. The Vicar-General and Councillors General 43. Should the office of the Father General become va-cant, the Vicar-General, who shall always be a priest ten years professed, immediately assumes the government of the Congregation. According to the norms of Art. 38 above and the General Statutes he shall then convoke a General Chapter. In the absence of the Father General the Vicar-General shall convoke and preside over such special meetings of the General Council as are deemed opportune. Should the office of the Vicar-General become vacant the Father General and the three other Councillors shall elect a priest, ten years professed, to this office. Should the Vicar-General judge it his duty to resign from office he shall submit his resignation to the General Council and await its recommendation. Should it be deemed necessary to remove the Vicar-General from office, the Father Gen-eral and the other three Councillors General, after due deliberation, shalI refer the matter to the Holy See and await its decision. Should the office of a Councillor General become va-cant, the Father General and the Vicar-General and the other two Councillors shall elect a perpetually professed Friar to fill it. Should a Councillor General judge it his duty to resign, he shall submit his resignation to the General Council and await its decision. Should it be deemed necessary to remove a Councillor General from office, the Father General, the Vicar-General and the other two Councillors shall refer the matter in proper form to the Holy See and await its decision. Sessions of the General Council 44. It rests with the Father General as President of the General Council to lay before it those matters to be con-sidered at each session. The Councillors, however, have the right to suggest other subjects after these have been considered. Regular sessions of the General Council shall be con-vened monthly. Special sessions of the General Council shall be convoked at the request of two Councillors Gen-eral. The following matters only may be decided by the de-cisive vote of the General Council. The responsibility for making decisions in all other matters rests with the Father General, who is to seek the advice of the General Council- lors before making a decision unless circumstances dictate otherwise. A) Matters assigned by Canon Law, these Constitutions and the General Chapter for decision by decisive vote. B) Interpretation for practical purposes of the Consti-tutions, Book of General Statutes and the Decrees of the General Chapter. C) Change or confirmation of previous enactments of the General Council. D) Promotion to Sacred Orders and to First and Per-petual Vows, and questions regarding dismissal from the Congregation. E) The opening or closing of houses. F) Enactment, in accordance with these Constitutions and General Statutes of regulations regarding re-ligious community life and matters regarding re-ligious observances. G) The election of the Secretary General, the Treas-urer General and the Procurator General to the Holy See, and the acceptance of the resignation or deposition of a member of the Curia. Also, the ap-pointment of a Visitor General for the visitation of the whole Congregation or a notable part of it. H) Convocation of an Extraordinary General Chapter. I) The election of local superiors, their vicars, direc-tors of the Congregation's formation programs and directors of the Congregation's apostolic works. J) Extraordinary expenses, loam, mortgages and sales, in accordance with the directives of the General Chapter, and the determination of quotas for con-tributions to be levied on various houses for the support of the poorer ones, and to meet the general expenses of the Congregation. K) Approval of the General Accounts of the Congrega-tion and of financial reports submitted by the local superiors. L) Legal proceedings of major importance to be initi-ated or continued in accord with the directives of the General Chapter. 45. In disposing of matters that require the decisive vote of the General Council, all members shall be present. If a member cannot participate the session shall be post-poned. If the session cannot be postponed the other mem-bers of the General Council shall elect a qualified Friar to replace him. In matters which require the decisive vote of the Gen-eral Council the Father General acts invalidly if he re-jects the majority vote. In matters which do not require the decisive vote of the General Council a quorum of + + + Constitution~ VOLUME 27, 1968 991 three, one of whom must be the Father General or, in his absence, the Vicar-General, shall be competent. In the disposition of matters that do not require the decisive vote of the General Council, the Father General shall seriously consider the opinion and the votes of the Councillors. However, he need not follow the vote of the Council even thougil it be unanimously against his opinion. The minutes of each session of the General Council shall be kept by the Secretary General, signed by the Councillors General and preserved in the archives. CHAPTER III THE CANONICAL VISITATION 46. The aims of the Canonical Visitation by the Father General or his delegate are: To strengthen the bonds of fraternity, unity and charity within the Community and the Congrega-tion; to inspire Friars to strive for greater holiness; and to encourage the Friars to greater efforts in the apostolates of the Congregation. At least one month before, the superior of the house will be informed of the impending Visitation. He will then make this known to the Friars of the house. In the Book of Visitations the Visitor will record any recommendations or ordinances he deems proper. He will likewise prepare a written report of the Visitation for the General Council CHAPTER IV ÷ + ÷ Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 992 LOCAL COMMUNITY GOVERNMENT 47. The General Chapter shall designate certain houses into Regions if this is judged useful for the good of the Congregation. A) 1. A Region is a territory where the pastoral care of the people is entrusted to the Congregation; 2. Or, a Region is a geographical grouping of parishes and houses. Each Region shall have its own regional superior and council with as many members as the regional statutes indicate. B) The Father General and General Council shall ap-point the regional superior after a consultative vote of the Friars in the Region has been taken. Regional councillors are elected by the Friars of the Region; these elections, however, must be confirmed by the GeneraI Council. C) Regional superiors and councillors serve for a term of three years unless a General Chapter intervenes. In this instance their term ends, although they con- tinue to serve until new elections have been com-pleted and confirmed. Friaries 48. All the Friars are to be assigned to specific houses or regions of the Congregation, even if their particular work is not directly attached to a particular house. All houses of the Congregation are called friaries and the local su-perior of each is called its Guardian. Local superiors are to be perpetually professed. Each local superior serves for three years or until the next General Chapter. He may serve for a second three year term and, exceptionally, for a third in the same house. Ordinarily no Friar may serve as Guardian more than three consecutive terms either in the same house or in different houses. 49. Each friary is to have a friary council with as many councillors as the local statutes provide. These Friars share responsibility with the local superior for the govern-ment of the community. Friary councillors are to be perpetually professed and, with the exception of the first councillor, who is the fl:iary's vicar, all shall be elected by the Friars of the house to serve a term of office which coincides with that of the local superior. In these local elections junior professed Friars have active voice. No Friar may serve for more than two consecutive terms on a friary council in the same house. The friary council shall meet monthly under the leader-ship of the local superior, who shall prepare its agenda. When these matters have been treated then the council-lors may introduce other subjects. In houses with less than five Friars the Father General may dispense from the prescription calling for a friary council. Local Chapters 50. In order to adapt to the needs and conditions of a particular house or region, the friary or regional council concerned, after consulting the community, shall draw up their own book of statutes, which shall be submitted for approval to the General Council. Periodically, local and regional superiors are to call the Friars together for a house or regional chapter, that is, a general meeting where policy, religious life and matters of special interest to the Friars shall be discussed. + ÷ 4- Constitutions VOLUME ZT, Z968 A New Charter of Charity of the Order of Citeaux ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter oy Charity 994 [Editor's Note. M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562, has been kind enough to provide the REvIEw with the text of an initial schema for a new charter of charity for the Cistercians. The schema was prepared by the constitutional Renewal Commission of the Order. of Cistercians of the Strict Observance (Trappists). It must be emphasized that the document is only an initial schema, th~tt it has not yet been fully discussed within the Cistercian Order, and that it is in no sense an official and au-thoritative statement of the Order. Even the designation of the Cisterc]ans of the Strict Obsen,ance as the "Order of Citeaux" i~ a suggestion of the schema, not a settled designation; In other words,'the document printed below is a schema--a working paper to serve as a basis for discussion within the Order as it prepares to renew itself according to the wishes of Vatican Council II. Only the main text of the document is printed here. The complete edition of the schema includes copious notes and ex-planations which it was felt could be omitted for the purposes of.publication in the REvmw. Abbreviations used in the docu-ment. as printed here are the following: AG = Vatican Council II's Decree on the Church's Missionary Activity; Ex. Parv. = The Little Exordium; GS = Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church in the Modern World; LG = Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church; PC = Vatican Council II's Decree on Religious Li[e; RB = The Rule of St. Benedict; and RM = The Rule oI the Master. Readers may find it of interest to compare and contrast the schema for "A Eife Charter for the Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood" that appeared in REvIEw for RELIOIOUS, vol-ume 25 (1966), pages 557-89.] INTRODUCTION " 1. United in Christ, led by the Holy Spirit, journey-ing to the Kin~gdom of the Father, the pilgrim Church has welcomed the news of salvation which is meant for every man. Gathered in Council, under the Holy Spirit, probing more profoundly into its own mystery, the Church set [or itself the goal to intensify the daily growth of all the faithful in Christian living, to be more responsive to the needs of our times, to nurture whatever can contribute to the unity of all who believe in Christ and to reach out to all mankind. Hence the Second Vatican Council had special reason to call for renewal in the lives of thbse who bind themselves to the evangelical counsels and thus are committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title. 2. This summons, which was addressed in a particu-lar way to us as members of communities wholly dedi-cated to contemplation, gave expression to a deep as-piration already intensely alive in our Order. The Founders of Citeaux were in quest of a truly authentic response to the perennial values of the monastic voca-tion. As we write this new Charter for our Cistercian life we are conscious of the need to enter more deeply into this same quest. At the same time we seek to re-spond to the signs of the times and the needs of the Church by expressing and living in a vital contempo-rary way the charism which our Fathers shared with the Blessed Benedict and expressed through the power of the Holy Spirit in their lives. We can do this only if all of us, monks and nuns, individually and as com-munities, strive to be renewed in the same Spirit. 3. This new Charter should be seen within the history of our Order as another stage in a constant and con. tinuing development. It reflects our history and con-crete life, develops new insights from both the sacred and secular sciences which must enrich our monastic vocation, and opens the way for us to continue to evolve with the Church and the family of man. 4. In formulating our new Charter we turn to the source of all Christian life, the Gospel, as embodied in the Rule of Saint Benedict and lived by our Cistercian Fathers, to the Charter of Charity and all the subse-quent historical and cultural developments of our tra-dition and to the needs of a contemporary Church and society. 5. The Rule of Saint Benedict remains the basic Code of our Order. Following in the footsteps of our Cistercian Fathers, we seek to live the evangelical life according to the monastic tradition as it has been syn-thesized in this Rule. This new Charter seeks but to place this heritage within the flow of ecclesial tradi-tion, and to establish structures which will enable us to live our profession of the Rule in a way that is con. stantly meaningful. 6. The supreme law in our Order is that of fraternal love, which is the new commandment of Christ (cf. .In 13,34) and the fulfillment of the law (cf. Rm 13,10). This is the bond which unites us. For this reason, and 4. ~harter ot Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 995 as a sign of our intimate union with our Fathers and our desire to live according to their spirit, we call our Charter, the New Charter of Charity. 7. This means that we must respect the Christian dig-nity of each monk and nun and the unique character of each community, that we must be responsive to the Sl~irit speaking within us. With full consciousness of our responsibilities, each one of us must effectively share in the life and government of our communities and Order. 8. Our laws and structures are to be in the service of evangelical freedom. They give our life a stability which it needs. They open the way for us to full growth in Christ (cf. Ep 4,13; Col 1,28). They must always be such that they do truly serve to strengthen our bond with one another and enable us to realize our most basic aspirations after fulfillment through union with God. Only those which are required by the essential characteristics of our Cistercian life are expkessed in this Charter. Others which arise from the realization of needs common to the whole Order are placed in the Customary of the Rule, which will remain under constant review. CHAPTER ONE LIFE CONSECRATED BY THE PROFESSION OF THE EVANGELICAL COUNSELS ARTICLE ONE THE INNER MEANING OF THIS STATE OF LIFE + + + REVIEW FOR RELI61OUS A Personal Call 9. Jesus Christ, God made man, "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," is given to us in the New Cove-nant as our model, that we might follow in his steps (cf. 1 P 2,21; 1 Co 11,1) and that he "might be the eldest of many brothers" (Rm 8,29). But such, is the perfection of "the image of the unseen God" (Col 1,15) that each one of us can reflect only certain aspects of his beauty. Whence the great number of vocations in the Church: the Spirit "distributes different gifts to different people just as he choses" (1. Co 12,11). It has pleased God to invite some to follow a special path of holiness, to imitate "more closely" (LG 44; PC 1) his Son, virgin and poor, who had "nowhere to lay his head" (Mr 8,20; Lk 9,58) and who "emptied him-self to assume the condition of a slave, and became as men are; and being as all men are, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross" (Ph 2,7-8). 10. Mary, Jesus' Mother, went before us on this way of virginity for the love of God. By her "Fiat" (Lk 1,38) given in faith, the "highly favored one" (Lk 1,28) who knew not man (cf. Lk 1,34), conse-crated herself wholly to the work of the Redemption. "Taken up body and soul into heavenly glory" (LG 59), she is the Church's living sign of the spiritual fruitful-ness of virginal consecration. 11. John the Baptist, the greatest of the children born of woman (cf. Mt 11,11), completed his self-emptying as he effaced himself before the "Lamb of God" (Jn 1,29.36): it must be that Jesus become great and that he, John, fade away (cf. Jn 3,30). His rigorous asceticism, his life in the desert, as well as his special prophetic mission invite us to find in him that virginal simplicity which enables him to speak of himself as "the bridegroom's friend, who stands and listens," and who "is glad when he hears the bridegroom's voice" (Jn 3,29). In the end, John foreshadowed the "Lamb of God" in his obedience to the divine will, even to a martyr's death (cf. Mt 14,3-12; Mk 6,17-29). 12. Mary the virgin and mother, Joseph her chaste husband and guardian of her virginity, . John the Bap-tist, all were led by the Holy Spirit and anticipated the explicit invitation of Christ. It was only when he came preaching that the Master uttered those words which were destined to inspire so many through all succeeding generations: ".there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can'~ (Mt 19,12). In Jesus' teaching, the "kingdom of heaven" is the salvation which has been proclaimed, the New Covenant which has been established by the coming of the Son of God and which will find its full realiza-tion in the world to come. Virginity chosen for the sake of the kingdom anticipates the time when the risen Christ will have completely swallowed up death in victory (cf. 1 Co 15,54). "For at the resurrection men and women do not marry; no, they are like the angels in heaven" (Mt 22,30). Under the Old Dispensation the spiritual meaning of virginity was already known and expressed in Jeremiah who embraced celibacy at Yahweh's word in view of the times to come, but it belongs to the Church of the New Covenant to per-ceive the full grandeur and dignity of Christian celibacy. 13. In its life and in its teaching the primitive Church faithfully preserved this "divine gift" (LG 43) of virginity for the love of God. Saint Paul, wishing that all the world were as he, told celibates and widows that it was good to remain as they were: "i believe that in these present times of stress this is right" (cf. 1 4, Charter of Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 997 ÷ ÷ Ch~rt~r o~ ~,harit~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 998 Co 7). He, who in writing to the Ephesians .would extol the dignity and sacramentality of Christian mar-riage (cf. Ep 5,21-33) did not hesitate to affirm that "the man who sees that his daughter is married has done a good thing but the man who keeps his daughter unmarried has done something better" (1 Co 7,38). 14. This charism which the Church received through the Holy Spirit gradually acquired an established form in the midst of the people of God. During the first two centuries celibacy for the sake of the Word, without any explicit recognition as a special juridic structure, was embraced by a multitude of Christians. These vir-gins were considered as Saint Cyprian said, "the most illustrious part of Christ's flock." 1 The profession of the evangelical counsels has con-tinued up to our own days to adorn the Spouse of Christ. Through the course of the centuries it has become more stable, more diversified, ever richer. After being principally of the monastic type during the first part of the Middle Ages, it began to give birth, especially after the twelfth century, to new religious families responding to new needs of the Church. 15. Carrying forward the teaching of the Council of Trent, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council ex-pressed clearly the importance of this state of life in the Church, asserting that "although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (LG 44). As in the case of every other Christian vocation, the consecrated life is a response to a personal call from God addressed to a particular individual. To this biblical call which we receive through the Church, the Holy Spirit adds his interior grace, giving his gifts to the members of Christ, enlightening and inspiring them in his own mysterious way, guiding and adorning them with different charisms for the good of all mankind (cf. Am 2,10-11). Our Response to This Call 16. God, who has freely committed himself and has remained faithful to his promises, the "God of truth," the "God-Amen" (Is 65,16), has brought about the full-ness of salvation in Christ, who is the "Yes" to God, the "Amen" to God (cf. 2 Co 1,19; Rv 3,14). It is "through him, in him and with him" that we say "Yes" to God, that we respond in faith to his love, that we express our "Amen to the praise of God" (2 Co 1,20). Upheld 1 The Habit ot Virgins, trans. A. Keenan, "The Fathers of the Church," v. 36 (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1958), p. 33. by the hope of meeting the Lord "face to face" (cf. Gn 32,31; 1 Co 13,12) and drawn by the "Father of all light," from whom we receive "all that is good, every-thing that is perfect" (Jn 1,17), we seek to conform. "ourselves ever more to Christ and to follow him "more closely" in his going to the Father (cf. Jn 14,12). It is the Father himself who calls us in the Holy Spirit and receives us, through the invitation and acceptance of the Church, to the praise of his glory (cf. Ep 1,14). 17. The profession of the evangelical counsels in the Church is but the flowering of the Christian initia-tion. Through the grace of Baptism we die to sin and become men possessed by the Holy Spirit. "This same Spirit gives himself in a fuller way in Confirmation, to assure the stability and vigour of our Christian ex-istence; it is to him that the martyrs and the virgins owe their victory over the attractions of the perishable." Now, in order to gather more abundant fruit, we wish, by the effective practice of the evangelical counsels to free ourselves from those obstacles which may draw us away from the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship (cf. LG 44). The religious life is then a "special consecration which is deeply rooted in the baptismal consecration, expressing it more fully" (PC 5). Many of those who "tend towards holiness by a narrower path" (LG 13) enter into a community of brethren which is "united, heart and soul" (Ac 4,32) where they mutually sustain each other. This union of brethren finds its greatest expression and its actualiza-tion in "the meal of brotherly solidarity" (GS 38), the efficacious sign of the union of brothers with one another and the Church universal in the glorious Body and Blood of the Lord. ARTICLE Two THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE PROFESSION OF THE EVANGELICAL COUNSELS IN THE CHURCH TODAY The Spiritual Growth of the Individual 18. If the Church has again insisted on the im-portance of the religious state it is because experience gives witness to the innumerable benefits that derive from this "divine gift" (LG 43). The profession of the evangelical counsels is.seen first of all to facilitate the spiritual growth of the individual who is faithful to the divine call. Although all Chris-tians have been called to "freedom and glory as children of God" (Rm 8,21), Saint Paul teaches us that those who ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 999 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1000 persevere in celibacy for the love of God find a greater spiritual liberty. According to him, marriage is open to the danger of being seen only in itself, without the pro-found reality which it signifies: divine agape. Because of a duty to please the other (cf. 1 Co 7,33-34) the mar-ried man or woman has to worry about the affairs of the world. For the married person then it is more difficult to follow the ideal of the beatitudes: to be poor with Christ, to hunger and thirst with him, to suffer for his sake. "An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs" (Ibid.). Seeking to please Christ alone, the virgin, undivided in heart, appears in the Church as one whose life is wholly ordered to God and whose ex-terior activities embody this total consecration to the Master. Here is the ideal condition for the pilgrim who wishes to go ever deeper into the desert, to meet his God (cf. Ex 19,17). 19. When the Fathers of Trent said that the state of virginity or celibacy is "better and more blessed" than that of marriage, they had in mind this doctrine of Saint Paul, even borrowing at times his own expressions. This doctrinal tradition is again echoed in the thought of the Second Vatican Council. Chastity "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" (Mr 19,12) is presented as "freeing, in a singular manner, the heart of man" (PC 12) so that "he may, more easily and with undivided heart, dedicate himself to God alone" (LG 42). The religious state "gives its members greater freedom from earthly cares" (LG 44); it permits them "to follow Christ more freely and imitate him more closely" (PC 1). 20. The profession of the evangelical counsels locates the consecrated person in the depths of the Paschal Mystery; it unites him more intimately with Christ in his "baptism" of the cross (Mk 10,38; Lk 12,50) and in his resurrection. Saint Paul saw Christian asceticism as a dying of the old man, as going down into the tomb with Jesus, entering into his death through baptism (cf. Rm 6,1-11; Col 2, 11-13). Saint Luke places the coun-sel of virginity in the Christological context of Saint Paul: "There is no one who has left house, wife, brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will not be given repayment many times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life" (Lk 18,29-30). To leave wife and children is to renounce marriage and to realize in an eminent way the condition demanded by Christ of those who wish to follow him, carrying the cross (cf. Lk 9,23). The Christian life in union with the Lord does not end at Calvary. God "raised us up with him and gave us a place with him in heaven, in Christ Jesus" (Ep 2,6). By the holocaust of perpetual continence, one vowed to celibacy is "set apart," "dedicated; . consecrated" to God, and thus participates in the exaltation of Christ: "All he need worry about is being holy in body and soul" (1 Co 7,34). The Extension of the Reign o[ Christ in the World 21. If the profession of the evangelical counsels is a cause of spiritual growth for the consecrated person himself, it is also ordered to the good of the entire Church and of all mankind. "The evangelical counsels which lead to charity join their followers to the Church and its mystery in a special way. Since .this is so, the spiritual life of these people should then be devoted to the weffare of the whole Church" (LG 44). If every Christian, in virtue of his baptism and confirmation, ought to bear witness and radiate Christ, it is evident that the profession of the evangelical counsels insofar as it is a structure of life and holiness in the Church, ought to share in a special way in the sacramentality of the Church in the world. Christ, through the vivifying Spirit, has formed his Body which is the Church as "a universal sacrament of salvation" (LG 48), as an effica-cious sign and "instrument of the Redemption" (cf. LG 9). We are conscious then of our obligation to be vitally significant, so that the Church-sacrament can realize itself in us, according to the measure of the grace we have received from Christ. 22. The value of the religious life as a sign has been abundantly underlined in the texts of the Second Vati-can Council. The profession of the evangelical counsels "manifests and signifies, by a more intimate consecration to God in the Church, the inner nature of the Christian calling" (AG 18). While the charity which is active within the secular world identifies itself concretely with the tasks and activities of the world, the profession of the evangelical counsels brings clearly into view the deeper, transcendental and supramundane dimension of Chris-tian life. In a striking manner, this profession attests to the truth that "the world cannot be transformed and of-fered to God without the spirit of the beatitudes" (LG 31). In transcending not only in spirit but also effectively and visibly the very noble values of Christian marriage, . of the possession of the good things of this world and of the free disposition of one's own life "in pursuit of an excellence surpassing what is commanded" (LG 42), the consecrated religious preaches in his own life the Sermon on the Mount. He reminds all that we ought to use this world as men not engrossed in it, that this world is passing away (cf. 1 Co 7,31). 23. Because of its greater spiritual liberty, a life con- VOLU./VIE- 27, 1968 1001 secrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels can become a very efficacious sign of the saving love of God, universal and multiform. That is why the Council ex-horts religious "carefully to consider that through them, to believers and non-believers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown contem-plating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, con-verting sinners to a better life, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent him" (LG 45). The profession of the evangelical counsels, then, is "the very heart of the religion that has come to us from the first days; it is devotion wholly founded on Christ; it is the ancient heritage of the Church of God. It was prefigured in the time of the prophets. John the Baptist, at the dawn of the New Covenant, established and re-newed it. The Lord himself lived it. And his disciples, while he was still with them, ardently desired it." " CHAPTER TWO THE CISTERCIAN VOCATION ARTICLE ONE CISTERCIAN LIFE AS ONE AMONG THE DIFFERENT FORMS OF RELIGIOUS LIFE REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1002 Monastic Lile 24. The phenomenon of monastic life is found al-most universally in the history of religions. Secretly drawn by the grace of the "unknown God" (LG 16) and experiencing their fundamental powerlessness, men of the most varied religions and cultures have been led to a certain withdrawal from society, and separation from family ties, to a rigorous personal poverty and asceti-cism. "In shadows and images" these "pilgrims of the Absolute" have striven after purity of heart, goodwill towards all men, a greater interiority leading to a truly deep and lasting personal peace. In this peace they have experienced something of God, who is the "eternal Peace." Through these elements of asceticism, interior-ity, total abandonment to an ultimate obscurely present, through this monastic way of life, divine grace has been poured into their hearts by the Spirit through the uni-versal redemption of Christ and has brought them into the flow of salvation history. 25. The revelation of the loving goodness of God, William of St. Thierry, Letter to the Carthusians, I, 3. made first to Abraham when he was invited to leave his family and his people to become the Father of all the faithful (cf. Rm 4,11-12), came to direct a basic human aspiration to a yet higher goal. God entered personally into our history to gradually transform the religious conscience of man. He chose for himself a people and educated them in a special way, preparing them for the coming of Christ. In the formation of the Hebrew peo-ple as they marched towards the Land of Promise the desert experience played an important, even essential role. Their prophets reflecting back upon it, elaborated a theology of the desert which would inspire the monas-tic movement lived within the fullness of the historical revelation. The desert is the place where God submitted Israel to the test to teach him that "man does not live on bread alone but that man lives on everything that comes from the mouth of Yahweh" (Dt 8,8). The sobriety of the cult of the desert would not let the Israelites be content with a formalistic piety, but called them to truly seek God. Recalling the disobedience of this "headstrong" people (Ex 82,9; 33,8-5), the Spirit urges us that at least today we ought not to tempt God (cf. Ps 95,7-8). Finally purified by the experience of the desert, Israel would be open to intimate converse with her Lord, Yahweh. It is the time for espousals (cf. Ho 9,16.21). 26. The Rekabites wished to prolong this ideal time; the Essenes, to make it return. Through the cours~ of the centuries Christian monasticism would draw from these spiritual treasures, adding to them the riches of the New Testament, above all the example of Jesus led into the desert by the Spirit (cf. Mk 1,12). To go into the desert is to leave behind the normal conditions of human life. It is to leave behind the com-fortable surroundings of c~vlllzatlon and qmckly expe-rience the hardships of solitude: ?'What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swaying in the breeze? No? Then what did you go out to see? A man wearing fine clothes? Oh no, those who wear fine clothes are to be found in palaces" (Mt 11,7-8). A hard life, however, is only the outer shell of a reli-gious experience of the desert. The man who is led by the Spirit to follow Christ quickly discovers the spiritual riches that are hidden within. Putting distance between oneself and the city with its preoccupations is the most radical way to keep from being submerged in the "cares of the world" which too often choke the Word, ren-dering it unfruitful (cf. Mt 13,22). Solitude leads a man back to a true perspective of himself. Exposing all his pretences, it impresses upon him the evidence of his own personal poverty, of his total destitution, his need of ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter o] Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1003 ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1004 God's help. In a word, the desert is the ideal place to en-counter God, to return to Yahweh: "That is why I am going to lure her and lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2,16). 27. What distinguishes Christian monasticism and gives it its preeminence is the inner meaning it receives from the New Testament, the Gospels, the fullness of the revelation: "Even the angels long to catch a glimpse of these things" (1 P 1,12). The monastic life is above all centered on "Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16,16) and "the Light of the nations" (LG 1) and the sign of God's love in our midst (cf. Jn 3,16; 13,34; 14,9). The monk seeks a God whom he knows in Christ. He is conscious of belonging to the human family that has been wounded and subjected to sin (cf. Rm 7,23) but also redeemed and renewed by him who became "our wisdom, and our virtue, and our holiness, and our free. dom" (1 Co 1,30). It was the word of the Master with its invitation to leave all to follow him that inspired Saint Anthony, and so many after him, to withdraw into the desert. There they struggled with sin and passion, they gave themselves to rigorous asceticism, they strove for incessant prayer and perseverence in this new form of martyrdom. Living in the continual presence of the Lord they were admit-ted to the contemplation of divine mysteries. The des-erts of Egypt, Syria and Palestine attracted many as-cetics. Some lived in complete solitude, some, under the spiritual guidance of an "Abba"; others joined the "Koinonia," following the example of the primitive Je-rusalem community. This latter form, initiated by Saint Pachomius, largely inspired later monasticism. Saint Benedict gathered together and adapted the better elements of the preceding monastic tradition. He proposed his Rule as an initial way of conversion, di-recting his disciples who thirsted for greater perfection to the Holy Scriptures and the doctrine of the "holy Fathers" (c[. RB 73). Because of its discretion and adapt-ability the Benedictine Rule became the principal mo-nastic code in the West, while the Orient has received its inspiration for the most part from the Rules of Saint Basil. 28. The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council have insisted that "in the East and in the West, the venerable institution of monastic life should be faithfully pre-served, and should grow ever-increasingly radiant with its own authentic spirit. Through the course of centu-ries, this institution has been of value to the Church and the human community" (PC 9). The Council recognized two forms of monastic response; the one hidden and wholly consecrated to divine worship; the other legiti- mately taking up some apostolate. Nevertheless the Council asserted that "the principal task" of all monks "is a humble and noble service of our divine Lord within the confines of the monastery" (Ibid.) The Cistercian Life 29. Today, the Church, through the voice of the Council, asks us to renew our monastic life according to "the spirit and aims of our Founders" (PC 2). Through the grace we share with our Fathers, we are convinced that the Cistercian life can continue to bear fruit for the Church of today and tomorrow. But this will be so only if we are attentive to the Holy Spirit and able to distin-guish the permanent values in the patrimony bequeathed to us by our Fathers which we must re-express in the socio-cultural context of our own times. Giving ourselves to this work of "renewal and adap-tation" we wish truly to seek a deep understanding of the charismatic intuition of our Fathers, to perceive their "spirit," that is, the totality of the essential prin-ciples of their spirituality, which it was given to them to objectify within the Church and to transmit to us a "letter," that is, all the practical determinations meant to incarnate the essential principles in a certain histori-cal epoch, a certain society, a certain culture. Because of the inevitable changes of time and circum-stances, in accord with a dialectic willed by Divine Providence, the "letter" of the Founders, in a new his-torical situation, finds itself sometimes in conflict with their "spirit." We have then the right and the duty, in order to be fully faithful to the "spirit," to confront the "letter" with the signs of the times, weighing and veri-fying all things, retaining what is good (cf. 1 Th 4,21) and creating where necessary new structures, but not before first calling upon God in most earnest prayer to guide our undertaking to a happy conclusion (cf. RB Prol. 4). 30. Our Cistercian Fathers were indeed living a re-presentation of the spiritual plenitude of Saint Ben-edict. Their own particular grace was an outburst of fervor and of love for Christ whom they wished to serve with greater generosity. To achieve this it was not their thought to establish in the Church a form of monastic life new and untried. They simply resolved to observe "more closely and more perfectly the Rule of Saint Ben-edict" (Ex.Parv. ch.2). Keenly alive to the value of au-thenticity, they looked for the "direct way of the Rule in every circumstance of their life," rejecting all that ran counter to its integrity (Ibid., ch.15). New soldiers of Christ enrolled in a spiritual militia, carrying on the combat in solitude far fi:om the affairs of the world, they ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter ol Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1005 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter o] Charity REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1006 labored to gain their living and to be able to offer to all a fitting hospitality. Poor with the poor Christ, they despoiled themselves of all that was superfluous and were content with the more simple, thus sharing in the hum-ble state of the poor of Yahweh and placing all their confidence in the Lord. Their attachment to the Benedictine Rule was above all in the service of love, the queen of the virtues, to-wards which all the observances were ordered. On a deeper level their spiritual enthusiasm was centered on Christ. It was because they wished to prefer nothing to him (cf. RB 4,21) that they returned to a more faithful observance of the prescriptions of Saint Benedict, their "guide, teacher and legislator." It was on the cross, with Christ, that they made their profession, hoping to re-main faithful to him. Mary, the "new Eve" at the side of Christ, the tender Mother of Christians, they honored as the Queen of heaven and earth. 31. The doctrine of the relationship of the "letter" to the "spirit" was present in the thought of the first Cistercians; it explains some of the decisions they made. Thus, of the monastic traditions introduced after the time of Saint Benedict, our Fathers retained some and rejected others according as they did or did not enable them to live the Rule in a more authentic way in the context of their own times. Indeed, to better incarnate the "spirit" of the Patriarch of Western Monasticism, they did not hesitate to set aside observances of the Rule itself and to create new forms. It was "~ight, in fact, that what was established for the sake of charity, should be omitted, discontinued or changed for something bet-ter when charity called for it. On the other hand, it would have been erroneous to wish to maintain con-trary to charity something that had been established for its sake." 3 32. We have received from God the Cistercian char-ism. We share it with our Fathers. As they had, so we have the right and duty to bring it to concrete realiza-tion within the Church of our times. This co-respons-ibility demands on our part that today we clearly dis-cern what are the essential principles of the spirituality of Saint Benedict, and what concrete form our creative fidelity to these principles ought to take. The true son of Saint Benedict, first and above all, seeks God (cf. RB 58,7) in the love of Christ (cf. RB 4,21). This search for God finds its highest expression in the "Work of God" (cf. KB 19; 43,1.3), which must be nourished by sacred reading (cf. RB 4,55; 48,1) and by intense personal prayer (cf. RB 4,56; 20). It is lived in St. Bernard, A Book on Precepts and Dispensations, II, 5. the midst of a community of love (RB 72,1-8), where all the brethren in their zeal for humility (RB 58,7) seek to obey one another (RB 71,1) and before all others, their abbot (RB 71,13), who holds for them the place of Christ (RB 2,2; 63,13). Identifying with the poor, they are ready to add manual labor, according to the example of our Fathers and the Apostles, to their habitual ascet-icism of silence, vigils, fasts and abstinence (RB 48,8). The workshop in which the disciple of Saint Benedict does all this is "the enclosure of the monastery and sta-bility in the community" (RB 4,78) far from the affairs of the world (RB 4,20). Recognizing our authentic vocation in this very clear Benedictine doctrine, we proclaim with Saint Bernard that "our life is one of self-abasement, humility, volun-tary poverty, obedience, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit; it is submission to a master, to an abbot, to a Rule, and to a discipline; it is living in silence, fasting and watching, praying and manual labor; above all it consists in following the more excellent way which is charity." 4 33. All these fundamental values must be brought into confrontation with the signs of our times. Thus we will be able to distinguish among the particular deter-minations of the Rule which of them still correspond to its true "spirit," and which of them ought to give place to new forms better able to realize the fullness of Bene-dictine life in the Church of today. Because the differences between their respective his-torical situations were not so great, our Fathers of Citeaux were able to live in the "spirit" of Saint Bene-dict retaining most of the particular determinations of the Rule. Today the world situation is almost entirely different. And therefore we realize that often we must be creative if we wish to live in full conformity with the "spirit" of Saint Benedict and our Cistercian Fathers. ARTICLE TWO THE CONTEMPORARY VALUES OF CISTERCIAN LIFE Its Value in Regard to Personal Fulfillment 34. In addition to the values it shares with the other forms of religious life, the Cistercian life is able to bring forth both for the individual and for the Church particular fruits flowing from its own proper character. Being wholly dedicated to contemplation, our Insti-tute seeks before all else to give to each monk and nun the possibility of the greatest spiritual liberty in order to ~St. Bernard, Letter 151, trans. B. James, Letters o] St. Bernard of Claimaux (London: Bums, Oates, 1953), p. 220. 4. + Charter ot Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1007 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1008 be open to God alone without any other concern, not even that of a ministry or special service among the peo-ple of God. In spite of the urgent necessities of the active apostolate, the Second Vatican Council has insisted that institutes whose life is wholly contemplative should re-tain their proper character and their withdrawal from the world (cf. PC 7). The peace of the Cistercian clois-ter, while remaining open to all the concerns of the Church and the progress that is taking place within the human family, yet frees us from whatever does not per-tain to contemplative love, to adhering mind and heart to Christ, our God. This spiritual liberty of the monk and nun is an ex-tension of the special freedom enjoyed in every conse-crated life. Besides the freedom enjoyed in regard to the values of Christian marriage, of the possession of mate-rial goods and of the free disposition of one's own life "in pursuit of an excellence surpassing what is com-manded" (LG 42), the contemplative transcends even the values of specialized visible apostolates, although these are so necessary in a missionary Church. If we forego this aspect of Christian charity it is to realize more effectively and surely its deeper dimension: the perfect union of the soul with God. "You are freer from the distractions and delights of the world; seek all the more to please God" (Ex.Parv. 14). 35. Our spiritual ascent is also characterized by a rad-ical asceticism intended to help create and preserve our spiritual liberty as monks. To the renunciation found in the counsels of virginity, poverty and obedience Cis-tercian asceticism adds that of withdrawal from the world, silence, watching and fasting. These are meant to penetrate to the most secret attachments of the human heart, unmasking disordered passions liable to escape a less radical asceticism. It is the experience of the desert: "But what does it mean: to have come into solitude? It means to consider this world as a desert, to desire the Fatherland, to have only so much of this world as is suf-ficient to complete the journey." ~ Because of the "law of sin" which is still alive within us (cf. Rm 7,23) it is very difficult for a man. to detach himself from the values sacrificed by our monastic pro-fession. The "spirituality of the desert" certainly brings a great freedom but it also involves a painful detach-ment and demands a great fidelity to divine grace. "That there should be in the middle of great modern cities, in the richest of countries, as also on the plains of the Ganges or in the forests of Africa, men and women ca-pable of finding complete fulfillment in a life of adora- St. Aelred, Sermon 5: First Sermon [or the Feast o] St. Benedict (P.L., v. 195, col 244C-D). ¯ o o tion and praise, who consecrate themselves wllhngly to thanksgiving and intercession, who freely make. them-selves the surety of humanity before the Creator, the protectors and advocates of their brothers before the Father of the heavens, what a victory for the Almighty, what a glory for the Savior. And monachism, in its es-sense, is nothing else." ~ 36. In the midst of this "labor of obedience" (RB Prol. 2) we experience "how good, how delightful it is for all to live together like brothers" (Ps 133,1). While learning by the help of many brethren how to fight against the devil (cf. RB 1,4) we can love our brothers with a tender and chaste love, having a profound respect for each one (Rm 12,9-10), carrying each other's burdens (Ga 6,2), patiently enduring one another's infirmities, obeying one another, seeking not what is useful to self, but rather what benefits the other (cf. RB 72,4-8). Such fraternal love is not only the strongest safeguard for chastity (PC 12), it fulfills the law of Christ (cf. Rm 13,8-10; Ga 5,15) and responds to a man's basic need to give himself in love in order to live in union with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ (cf. 1 Jn 1,3). 37. Enriched by the experience of centuries, the Cis-tercian monastic life, in spite of its particular austerity, can hope to bring together the necessary conditions for the maturation of a well-balanced community, provided, of .course, that those who bind themselves to the com-munity by profession are freely and maturely responding to a true call from the Lord. Saint Bernard noted that "the variety of our observ-ances forestalls tedium and acadia." In this variety we wish to find more and more the original Benedictine equilibrium, balancing sacred reading, the "Work of God" and labor. This is in effect "what Saint Benedict said, or rather the Holy Spirit in Saint Benedict. He did not say that we ought to be attentive to reading, as Mary, and omit the corporal work of Martha. He rec-ommended both to us, assigning certain times to the occupation of Mary, and others to that of Martha'." 7 That sincere love of our brothers which favors the full development of the affective life of each is also an im-portant factor for equilibrium in our life. The Cistercian Life in the Presence of the World Today +~, 38. If we do not, in fact, exercise any specialized serv- ÷ ice in the Church of Christ, we are nevertheless con- 6Plus XII, Allocution to the Congress on Oriental Monastic Studies, April 11, 1958 (Acta Apostolicae.Sedis, v: 50 (1958), p. 285. ~ St. Aelred, Sermon ~or the Feast ol the Assumption (P.L., v. 195, col. 307). Charter o] Charity VOLUME 27,.1968/, . 1009 REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 1010 scious that in virtue of the plenitude of love towards which we are tending we must dedicate ourselves to im-planting and strengthening the reign of Christ in souls, to spreading it to all the universe (cf. LG 44). "The contemplative life belongs to the fullness of the presence of the Church" in every region (AG 18). We wish to be truly part of the Church-as-sacrament according to the role that is proper to us, over and above that which is proper to all religious. 39. Fundamentally, our Cistercian life is a living man-ifestation of the most profound dimension of the mys-tery of the Church: the ineffable love of Christ and his Spouse, in the Holy Spirit. This aspect is certainly present in every authentic Christian life but it becomes in a certain sense visible in our integrally contemplative life since our love for Christ does not call upon us to render any special form of service within the visible Church, but rather to express itself in a more exclusive and continuous dialogue with God, in the Holy Spirit. We are conscious that in order to give our full and proper witness among the people of God, contemplative prayer must wholly inform our lives. With all our hearts, we wish to be "men of God," in body as well as in spirit; that is, in such a way that all our activities come to have a certain transparency, visibly reflecting in each of our undertakings our contemplative union with Christ and the Father. Thus may we render visible the intimacy of the Church with her Spouse, and, in Christ contemplating on the mountain (cf, LG 46), the intimacy of the Church with the Father, in the Holy Spirit. 40. United in a community of love, under an abbot who holds the "place of Christ in the monastery" (RB 2,2), we contribute as do all the other religious brother-hoods in the Church, to showing forth to all the ideal of the Christian community as it was traced out by the Lord. Furthermore, the unity of the brethren manifests, by the fulfillment of his commandment, that the Lord has indeed come. "By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, that you have love for one another" (Jn 13,35; 17,21). 41. In their own way, our radical asceticism and the simplicity of our live have special value as signs. Tran-scending the goods of the earthly city, the life of the desert is beyond even the profession of the evangelical counsels as an effective sign of the eschatological reali-ties. This life reminds men that the "world as we know it is passing away" (1 Co 7,31). "For (as William of Saint Thierry said) your simplicity provokes many men to emulation; your poverty, so complete and so spiritual, confounds the cupidity of many; your silence creates in many a distaste for those things which cause or seem to cause so much excitement and noise." 49_. If our integrally contemplative life, our brother-hood, and our radical asceticism enable us to partici-pate in the sacramentality of the Church in the world today, our vocation is also a commitment to the service of all men as our brothers. Our participation in the Church-as-sacrament is realized, not only by the wit-ness of our lives, but also by our activities. Our principal obligation toward mankind is that of prayer and redemptive penance. Through these we exer-cise a role in the conversion of man to God (c[. AG 40). Interceding for our brothers and filling up in our bodies what "still has to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church" (Col 1,24), we realize that we exercise in depth the priesthood shared by all Christians. 43. In extending hospitality to all who come to the monastery, we wish to respond to the desire ex-pressed by many pastors that our monastic communi-ties might be spiritual oases where all, believer and unbeliever alike, might come to seek spiritual rest after their labors in the city of man, and where we might mutually encourage one another (cf. 1 Th 5,11). "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ," so that nothing genuinely human ought to fail to raise an echo in our hearts (cf. GS 1). Receiving every man who comes as if he were Christ himself, we should re-lieve the poor, clothe the naked, help those in trouble and console the sorrowing (cf. RM 53,1; 4,14-15.18-I9). In order that our monasteries might be "sources [or the upbuilding of the Christian people" (PC 9), we will want our guest to share as fully as possible in our spiritual riches, in our liturgical life, in the fraternal love that our communities should perfectly express. The Holy Spirit, distributing his charisms for the service of the local Church, will not fail to give some monks an aptitude for spiritual dialogue with the guests, for directing souls with judicious counsel, and for sharing the fruits of wisdom that have been drawn from Christ in the solitude and silence of contemplation. Some of us are called to the priesthood, responding to a freely given and personal call from God, according to the needs of the place. Fully compatible with the con-templative life and withdrawal from the world, a monastic priesthood of ministry exercised among the guests as well as within the community can produce very 4. Charter o~ Charity VOLUME 27, ~.968 lOll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1012 valuable fruits both for the monastery and for the local Church. Finally, by a generous and completely open hospital-ity we hope to make a contribution to the ecumenical endeavors of the different churches. By contact with our monastic brotherhoods which simply aim at estab-lishing an ideal milieu in which to live the Good News of Christ in its fullness, our separated brethren can easily recognize the spiritual riches which we hold as a common heritage. 44. Although we are not ordinarily called to fulfill a specific apostolic function within the Church, neverthe-less we always remain open, as true sons of Saint Benedict, to a special appeal to express the charity of Christ in particular circumstances. In this way we follow the "spirit" and example of our Cistercian Fa-thers who were continually open to the concerns of the universal Church and ready to respond to the de-mands of charity addressed to them as individuals or as communities. 45. Nor will we neglect to help humanity, with all the potential offered by our particular charism to transform and perfect the world, to participate in the development of cultures by cooperating in the effort of civilization and by working at a better distribution of material goods among peoples and individuals. In this we are conscious of following the path traced by our Fathers and the whole Benedictine tradition. For "it is he [Benedict] principally and his sons, who, with the cross, the book, and the plough, brought Christian progress to peoples extending from the Mediterranean to Scandinavia, from Ireland to the plains of Poland." s At this moment in history when it is given to man, thanks to the progress in science and technology, to develop himself more fully by an ever more marvelous mastery of the dynamisms of creation and by responsi-bly cooperating with God in the realization of the values of this world, we can render many services to the Church and the human family by our commitment. Nevertheless we are profoundly convinced that the pil-grim Church has need above all of our contemplative life: of men and women, who, by a life more visibly turned to God and the realities to come, remind all men that the most fundamental dimension of their existence is their personal relation with the God of our Lord, Jesus Christ, remind them that while all things are ours, we are Christ's and Christ is God's (cf. 1 Co. 3,22-23). s Pius XII, Homily oI september 18, 1947 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 455. ERNEST E. LARKIN, O.CARM. Scriptural- 7 heological Aspects oJ Religious Life The concept* of Christian perfection has moved from an almost unilateral emphasis on the eschatological and transcendent aspects of Christian life into the per-spectives of person, community, and social conscious-ness. Pre-Vatican II thinking saw the religious vocation less in terms of becoming a person, creating community, and being involved in the great social issues than in personal detachment and a supernatural charity nour-ished by spiritual exercises and the observances of the cloister. The emphasis has shifted now to these new values which bring in the role of terrestrial values. Life is seen as a building of a universe in which the in-dividual and society are the agents. A man constructs his life through his multiple relationships with his fellows, through being-with-others, through his history. Simplistically and often in exaggerated reaction, sweep-ing changes are urged in the name of this new phi-losophy: silence must cede the place of honor to dialogue, s~litude to community, prayer to a peace march or poverty program, spiritual love to human affection, blind obedience to collegiality, poverty to having the most efficient equipment for the work we do. It thus becomes apparent how necessary it is to review from a theological point.of view the very foundations of re-ligious life in order to evaluate the changes in religious theory and practice that are occurring. Religious Lqe in General According to one recent writer the task of rethinking religious life in postconciliar terms is almost impos-sible (J. Mahoney in National Catholic Reporter, March 6, 1968). Religious life, he says, is Gnostic and Jansenis-tic in its opposition to the world so that it is poisoned * This is the text of a talk given June 26, 1968, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men held at Mundelein, Illinois. Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm., professor of spiritual theol-ogy at Catholic University, lives at 1600 Wesbster St., N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20O17. VOLUME 27~ 1968 1013 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1014 in its roots. As an "esoteric sub-culture" with its "Stoic discipline" and "unearthly spirituality," it is a counter-sign and parody of Christian baptism. This is a harsh judgment; but one that serves to remind us that re-ligious life must be above all Christian life, rooted in Christ, the Gospels, and the Church. I~ one distinguishes renewal and adaptation and identifies renewal as revitalization of the substance, whereas adaptation is adjusting forms and structures, the primary task before us is renewal. It is a new realization of the radical Christian dimensions .of re-ligious life. Religious life is "a following of Christ" (PC 2a),1 "a sharing in the life of the Church" (PC 2c), a life in the Spirit (PC 2e). The principal agent of renewal is the Holy Spirit who calls religious to return to Christ in faith and personal decision. Existing struc-tures stand under judgment. They must be rethought and, as necessary, revamped in terms of authentic Gospel spirituality and the concrete realities of our day (PC 2d). What is obsolete, that is, irrelevant (PC 20; ES 17),2 is to be expunged; what is valid is to be revivified; and viable new ways of implementing the ideal are to be created. Religious life is baptismal life; otherwise it is a thief who "enters not by the door into the sheepfold but climbs up another way" (Jn 10:1). Religious life is a "special" way of Christian life (LG 44;3 PC 1), because it is the way of the evangelical counsels institutionalized in the Church. The evangeli-cal counsels, which are "manifold" (LG 42) and meant for all Christians, are reduced in this case to the three values of chastity, poverty, and obedience. These coun-sels can be lived independently of religious life (LG 42) or concretized in an approved institute in the Church (LG 43). In the latter case they identify the religious life. The documents stress the theological significance of the counsels, their relation to charity, hope, axed faith. The legal bonds in the form of vows, oaths, or promises express the dedication to the ethical values in an approved institute and are necessary as human in-struments for the stability and permanency of this state, even as they promote the more basic value of "freedom strengthened by obedience" (LG 43). The vows are servants of faith, hope, and charity; hence they are open to revision, that is, dispensation, when the religious state, which is permanent, becomes a hin-drance rather than a help to faith, hope, and charity. x PC throughout this article refers to Vatican II's Per[ectae cari-tatis (Decree on Religious Lile). ~ ES throughout this article refers to Paul VI's Ecclesiae sanctae. 8 LG throughout this article refers to Vatican II's Lumen gentium (Constitution on the Church). The evangelical counsels and the theological virtues, in other words, are the operative principles of religious existence, in the mind of the Council. The history of the text of Perfectae caritatis illustrates the shift in emphasis from law to spirit in the conciliar thinking about religious life. Is religious life a superior way of Christian life? Chapter VI of Lumen gentium and the decree Perfectae caritatis imply a higher excellence when they refer to the "special" nature of this life (LG 44; PC 1), when they use comparatives in stating that religious are "more intimately consecrated" to Christ and enjoy a union with the Church by "firmer and steadier bonds" (LG 44), and when they emphasize the "unique" eschatological sign value of the religious state (LG 44; PC 1). All of these citations, however, refer to grace offered, not to grace lived. The Council, as is well known, eschewed odious comparisons between one state and another and underlined the universal call to holiness in all the baptized. It refused to speak of states of perfection and took the personalist approach to different vocations in the Church by stressing the uniqueness of each call and the complementarity of all vocations. The mind of the Council is summed up in the dictum: "Your vocation is the best, indeed the only one, for you." It might have cited the words of O. W. Holmes: "Every calling is great when greatly pursued." In summary, we can maintain, it seems to me, that a religious call is objectively a higher grace th~n the married vocation, but in the teaching of the Council one's state or way of li~e is as good as it is lived. Why then does a Christian choose the religious life? It is an "outstanding gift of grace" (PC 12), a charism; and ultimately the conviction that one has been offered this grace is the only valid reason for entering religion. But the judgment is made on the basis of self-knowledge whereby the candidate believes that in view o~ his limitations and potential this way of life offers him the best possibilities for his human and transcendent selbfulfillment (see Development of Peo-ples, n. 16). Given the appropriate emotional maturity presupposed for any life-choice, whereby the individual recognizes the values in each option and is free enough to choose either one, human or psychological factors enter the decision in favor of religious life as for marriage. The religious answers a call, but one heard in the depths of his own human aspirations. He does his "thing" as laymen do their own, and together they express different dimensions of human existence as well as different aspects of the whole gospel. Religious life, in other words, is a human value as well as an other- 4- Religious Liye VOI.UMt= 27, 1968 1015 ÷ ÷ ÷ Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1016 worldly one. It is important today to see religious life under this double aspect. Otherwise it may not appear as worth the burden to contemporary Christians, who deeply sense Karl Rahner's definition of man as "that being who must necessarily realize himself in love in order to correspond to his own being" (The Word in History, ed. T. Patrick Burke, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966, p. 70). I shall try to develop these values by first showing the Scriptural basis for each of the evangelical counsels and then by indicating the positive values for the person, the Church, and the world in these evangelical counsels. Scriptural Basis Consecrated chastity, or virginity "for the sake of the kingdom," is a New Testament value explicitly taught by St. Matthew in these words of the Lord: Not all can accept this teaching, but those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who were born so from their mothers' womb; and there are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let him accept who can (Mt 19:11-2). Both the source and the goal of the charism of evangelical virginity are taught in this passage. Neither physical impotency nor psychological ineptitude nor social pressure grounds the choice of virginity over mar-riage for a follower of Christ. Virginity "for the sake of the kingdom" is a gift freely accepted, not out of timidity or selfish bachelorhood, but precisely "for the sake of the basileia." It is ordered to charity. This is"its positive content: it frees the heart for love (PC 12); it is a "sign and incentive of charity" (LG 42). The charism of evangelical virginity makes it possible for a Christian to love God and his fellowmen intensely without the normative and natural support of mar-riage. A second locus classicus in the New Testament is St. Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 7, especially verses 25-35. Paul is addressing himself to practical cases in the Corinthian church. In view of a parousia that may occur imminently, he advises the Christian converts to maintain their present status, married or virginal, waiting with a certain freedom and detachment as "this world as we see it posses away" (v. 31). The advice is ad hoc and pragmatic, in view of "the present distress" (v. 26). Even the general principles which he enunciates in the latter half of the passage are to be interpreted in the context of an imminent parousia: He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of t~e Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided (vv. 32-3). In the context of the Corinthian church, there is no doubt that in Paul's mind virginity is a better way. It disposes for contemplation, for "praying to the Lord without distraction" (v. 35), much as earlier in the chapter Paul allows abstinence from intercourse by mutual consent by husband and wife in order thht they may give themselves to prayer (v. 5). Is Paul also teach-ing as a universal principle that virginity practically speaking is a better way for the Christian than mar-riage? Exegetes generally seem to have thought so, but some recent commentators restrict the teaching to the extremely eschatological perspective of the Corinthian problem. In this reading Paul is not explicitly asserting a universal superiority for virginity. But there is no doubt in Paul's mind of the particular merits of vir-ginity for the cultivation of what we call today the vertical aspect of Christian life. The paragraph devoted to poverty in Per[ectae cari-tatis (n. 13) cites a number of texts which single out different aspects of the Old Testament theme of the anawim, the poor people of God. The first citation, 2 Corinthians 8:9, holds up Jesus himself, who "though he was rich, for our sakes became poor." Alan Richard-son writes of these words: "It is Jesus himself who embodies the biblical idea of 'the poor man' who trusts only in God, and herein lies the real theological significance of his poverty" (A Theological Word Book of the Bible, ed, Alan Richardson, New York: Mac-millan, 1962, p. 169). Other texts cited reinforce the interior attitude of trust in God (Mt 6:26), resting one's security in God and not in earthly treasures (Mt 6:20), being detached enough to share everything with the poor (Mr 19:21), with those in need (Mt 25:34--45; Jas 2:15-6), in effective acts of fraternal love (1 Jn 3:17). The interior attitude of trust, openness, and detach-ment is primary; but it thrives best in actual poverty, in renouncing riches in favor of the poor, and experi-encing, therefore, the insecurity of the anawim who are thrown upon the Lord's care and driven to hope in Him since they have no worldly prestige and influence on which to rest their security. Even Matthew 19:21 cannot be invoked as a proof text for voluntary re-ligious poverty, since the context indicates a universal norm of total renunciation for all Christians. Religious life specifies that recommendation in an institutional form, whereby persons become poor "both in fact and in spirit" (PC 13) in order to create the ideal disposi- + Religious Lif~ VOLUME 27, 1968 1017 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1018 tion for centering their lives in God and giving gener-ously to their fellowmen. The Scriptural basis for poverty, then, lies in the long tradition of the anawira, celebrated in the first beatitude in both Matthew (who extols' poverty of spirit) and Luke (who proclaims actual poverty). While religious poverty is not primarily a socio-economic con-dition, it cannot be reduced to mere lack of owner-ship or legal (often legalistic) dependence on superiors' permissions. Religious poverty is an experience of emp-tiness and felt need for God created by the lack of significant worldly resources. It is a visible witness to the pilgrim status of the Church, but its essential spirit animates rich and poor alike in the Church who place their resources at the service of men. Obedience in the Bible is the equivalent of hearing, that is, responding to the word of God; hence for Christians it is an exercise of faith. Thus in St. Paul Abraham "believed in God" (Rm 4:3), while in Gene-sis Abraham "obeyed God's voice" (Gn 22:8; 26:5). The decree presents Christ's example of love and obedience to the will of His Father (for example, Jn 4:34) recog-nized in the institutions of His own earthly existence (Hb 5:8) in total service of His fellowmen (for example, Mt 20:28) as the root of religious obedience. Voluntary choice of submission to a religious regime beyond the hierarchically constituted structures of the Church is not taught explicitly in the New Testament. Religious obedience, therefore, is a development. Theologians have endeavored to work out a theory of religious obedience (for example, K. Rahner, Hill-man, Tillard, 0rsy). The following reflection assimilates some of this thinking. Religious institutes are charismatic interventions of the Holy Spirit approved by the Church but not part of the hierarchical structure. The com-munity is the bearer of the charism; hence the exercise of authority and obedience in the group is eminently collegial. But religious communities are not free-floating bodies independent of the Church. They exist in the Church, and the superior is the. link between the teach-ing and ruling authority in the Church and the religious community. While religious obedience, therefore, can-not be reduced to a simple equation of the superior's will and God's will in a magical fashion, still the superior remains the authority, the last word, as it were, in debate and dialogue (PC 14). In summary, religious obedience finds its justification in the individ-ual members subordinating themselves to a community effort guided by the Holy Spirit in a life-form of service that has the guarantee of the Church for its evangelical validity. The new ordering of the three counsels, with chastity placed in the first place, is intended to bring out the radical and central role of evangelical virginity in the formation of a religious life. It is the charism which sets an individual and a community apart. Virginity im-plies dose companionship with Christ, an affinity for prayer, and the freedom to dedicate all one's energies to the kingdom. Poverty is a condition for this positive content of chastity. Like celibacy itself it aims to create an emptiness and disponibility so that one is free to "use the world as though not using it" (1 Cor 7:31), having nothing but possessing all things. Obedience is the way of insuring the ecclesiastical character of this venture. Chastity forms a celibate community of love in the Church. With6ut poverty the celibate community gives no witness; without obedience it lacks *mission. The poverty must be visible, and obedience must be responsi-ble search by the whole community for the Spirit. All three counsels together, therefore, structure the gift of the Spirit which is religious life. Values of the Evangelical Counsels We shall consider the meaning of the vows on four different levels suggested by Cardinal Doepfner in a conciliar speech at Vatican II. These four levels are the ascetical, the ecclesial, the apostolic, and the eschato-logical, all of which are designated values in para-graph 5 of Perfectae caritatis. Ascetical Value The ascetical value, which refers to the vows as means of personal sanctification, corresponds to the first prin-ciple of renewal, personal union with Christ (PC 2a). The ascetical significance is the key. Whatever the role in the Church of a particular community, "the mem-bers of every community, seeking God solely and be-fore everything else, should join contemplation, by which they fix their minds and hearts on Him, with apostolic love, by which they strive to be associated with the work of redemption and to spread the kingdom of God" (PC 5). The religious vocation is a call to con-templation and apostolate addressed to all religious. The vows are renunciations of recognized earthly good for the prosecution of this double personal goal. If, however, sexuality, property, and the exercise of personal judgment and decision are the raw material for growth into personhood, as is recognized today, will not the vows frustrate the maturity which is pre-supposed for a life of prayer and action? Why then renounce these human goods? The answer is that the ÷ ÷ ÷ neUglous Life 1019 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1020 vows do indeed presuppose a basic adult self-possession, freedom, and responsibility. This is why only balanced persons, who relate well to their peers, the opposite sex, and superiors, who have a healthy psychic as well as physical development, should be accepted for reli-gious profession (see PC 12). But the vows take human growth a step further to an even higher fulfilment. The Development of Peoples puts the matter well: . human fulfilment constitutes, as it were, a summary of our duties. But there is much more: this harmonious enrich-ment of nature by personal and responsible effort is ordered to a further perfection. By reason of his union with Christ, the source of life, man attains to a new fulfilment, to a trans-cendent humanism which give him his greatest possible perfec-tion: this is the highest goal of personal development (n. 16). The vows, therefore, are no mere negations: "What are called the inhuman imperatives of the Gospel could just as well be called pointers to unexpected possibili-ties" (Concilium General Secretariat, "Stirrings in Re-ligious Life," in Renewal and Reform of Canon Law, New York: Paulist Press, 1967, p. 171). The vows apply the paradox of human life and the gospel, so that by giving we receive, by renunciation we possess. Ulti-mately only renunciation is the way to the hundredfold and to full humanity (see LG 46). The counsels are not defenses against life, protections for an individ-ualistic "spiritual life" against one's body and the world. They are secrets of growth in an age that has perhaps forgotten the necessity of renunciation for true love. If they are lived loyally and faithfully so that the limitations of human nature and of the finite are ex-posed, if they are renewed daily in the free choices that present themselves in .an adult £ashion, and not by legalistic, almost unwilling conformity, they promise the Resurrection as well as the cross and the fullest humanity. Religious are criticized for immaturity, mediocrity, and lack of joy. Besides the inevitable human failings the fault may lie in the beginnings, in the acceptance of candidates who are too immature to make the re-nunciations of the vows or in formation policies that preclude further development of the person. Com-munities should take a long, hard look at the age level and psychological condition of their candidates and the kind of novitiate and juniorate training that is given. Or the fault may lie in the failure of com-munities to create the atmosphere of openness and trust that will allow persons to carry out in freedom the implications of their vows. Liberty, not overbear-ing law, is the only atmosphere in which the Christian life of renunciation can thrive. Ecclesial Value The opening paragraph in Per[ectae caritatis makes dear that the rule of religious is a double one of being and function, consecration and apostolate, witness and mission. These roles overlap, but they correspond to the ecclesial and apostolic meaning of the counsels respec-tively; they also enter the final category of this paper, the eschatological value of religious life. Our division, therefore, is inadequate, but one that, hopefully, suits the purpose of exposition. This call to being, to consecration, to witness in the Church is the call to holiness, not in a purely trans-cendent, vertical fashion, much less in an individ-ualistic way, but in community as in the present mani-festation of the kingdom before the visible return of Christ at the parousia. Religious create communities of fraternal love. They are paradigms of the Church itself, either after the manner of the Jerusalem commu-nity as in the case of monastic orders, or in the tradition of the Pauline churches which looked outward as with modern apostolic communities. The structuring of these two types of community is different, one ad intra, the other ad extra;, and each religious institute must choose between the two according to its own nature and goals. Too long have apostolic communities endeavored to live by a monastic schedule and mystique to the detriment of both professional excellence and religious growth. In both monastic and apostolic communities, however, the witness value for the Church lies in visible charity that unites the members and, in the case of apostolic communities, creates community outside. The evangelical counsels make religious community possible, first, by creating a need for it, and, secondly, by giving a particular physiognomy to the celibate community. Celibacy needs the support of living com-munity: "Let all, especially superiors, remember that chastity is guarded more securely when true brotherly love flourishes in the common life of the community" (PC 12). Priestly celibacy is a problem where priests have to live without this human support. The religious house must be home for its members, where individuals can be themselves~accepted, welcomed, understood-- where they are treated as persons and not functions or numbers that man the machinery of a rigid horarium and overcommitted apostolates, where genuine friend-ships prevail, in a word, where the religious like to return to from their apostolic labors. The horarium and observances will depend on the nature of the com-munity work, and the primary concern will be. to create an atmosphere of peace and friendship. Where 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 1021 4. 4. 4" Ernest E. Larkin~ O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1022 love is, God is; where two or three are gathered in His name, there is the presence of the Lord. This means among other things that recreation is as important as faculty meetings and cordiality as necessary as zeal. The celibate community complements the married community, and Christian love is at the heart of both. Celibate love manifests its own constellation of the qualities of Christian love: it highlights the freedom, the all-embracing, non-exclusive character of Christian love that gives without looking for a return. Human love that leads to marriage draws two people apart from the community to form one person (one flesh, one family) whereas celibate love emphasizes the other-ness of the one loved. Each love has something to teach the other, and both participate in the same love that animates the union of Christ and the Church. Each expresses part of the Christian mystery, celibacy the freedom of the sons of God, marriage the identification love causes and the intimacy it seeks. The consecrated virgin reserves identification for the Lord and bestows his love on the People of God freely. Even his intimate friends do not close him off from others, for he can call no one his own. His interpersonal relationships, there-fore, have a phenomenology different from the friend-ships that lead to or exist in marriage. His way demands faith in God and trust in his fellowmen; but he stakes his very life on the principle that by giving he re-ceives, by loving he is loved. The other vows make the witness of celibate love a reality. Poverty in its Biblical meaning must be visible. Some ways suggested in the documents are the sharing of one's goods, one's time, one's love inside and out-side the community, identifying with the poor and experiencing their insecurity by belonging to a religious family that is not obviously affluent but has to work hard and stint in order to survive. Experimentation and creative expression in new forms are needed to witness poverty, both personally and as a community, both to our affluent society and to the deprived and destitute peoples in our land. Without real poverty the witness of celibacy speaks to no one, because the kind of charity that is its touchstone will not be seen. Renewed obedience contributes to this witness inso-far as it is more responsible, more collegial in character, when "holy disobedience" need not be a contradiction in terms. An autocratically oriented Church with a strictly vertical obedience, in which the superior has all the answers and takes sole responsibility for deci-sions, tends to keep people in a state of perpetual childhood and creates a "gimme" syndrome rather than a "giving" service. In adapting to democratic methods, obedience need not suffer; it does not become majority rule or the totally "dialogal" type condemned in the decree (n. 14). Authority remains, but "an active and responsible obedience" gives it balance and allows the whole community to be actively engaged in community service, Apostolic Value The practical contribution of religious institutions to the social apostolate of the Church is evident. Without this army of low-paid, dedicated workers, as Pope Plus XII remarked, the Church's work of education and service would collapse. But the external aposto-late of religious is secondary. Paul VI scored "the false idea that the first place should be given to the works of the external apostolate, the second to con. cern for our spiritual perfection, as though such were the requirement of the spirit of our age and the needs of the Church" (Magno gaudio, May 23, 1964). The Council itself sees the apostolic work for the kingdom promoted in two ways, by "prayer or by active undertakings" according to the nature of a given order (LG 44); and in the case of apostolic orders it inserts "charitable activity" into "the very nature of the religious life" (PC 8). The mission of religious in the Church, indeed of the whole redemptive apostolate of the Church, lies on a deeper level than the pragmatic. The apostolate springs from union with Christ and consists in participation in the Paschal mystery of kenosis and resurrected life as expressed by prayer and work. More concretely, the apostolate o£ the Church is the same as Christ's, to break down the middle wall of partition (Eph 2:14), creating community inside and outside the local re-ligious community itself. It is the work of charity, of self-emptying, that allows God's love for mankind to filter into the lives of others through the agency of those who are bearers of that love. They must possess this love before they can be its instruments. To live and ex-press fraternally this gift of God's love means "the bearing about in our bodies of the dying of Jesus in order that the life of Jesus may be manifest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10); in this way "death is at work in us, but life in [the community]" (ibid, v. 12). The apostolate, in other words, is charity, expressed in prayer or action. Far from being opposed to the witness of religious life, the apostolate is practically identified with community. Community and apostolate in the Church are thus correlatives and mutually interde-pendent. Neither one is pure means to the other. In a + + + Religious LiJe VOLUME 27, 1968 1023 given institute, especially when it strives to remain faithful to its particular "spirit and special aims" (PC 2b) in the midst of pressing local needs of the Church, there will be tensions in the structuring and implementation of the two aspects. But in general the type of community life will depend on the in-stitute's apostolate. Apostolic communities will have fewer common observances and perhaps greater flexi-bility in horaria, whereas monastic groups will sub-ordinate external involvements to~ the conventual sched-ule. The apostolic works as well as the prayer forms and religious practices should be rigorously reviewed and evaluated in view of the nature and goals of an institute, and courageous changes made as necessary. Here again a great deal of experimentation is called for in order to make the institute relevant to itself and the Church. Harmonious balance between the common life and apostolic involvement according to the insti-tute's identity is the desideratum. Once again renewal is more important than adaptation, since ultimately both community and apostolate are mere expressions of the one union of charity, of death-resurrection in the Lord. Ernest E. Larkin~ O.Carra. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1024 Eschatological Value The Biblical notion of virginity, especially clear in the New Testament, contains a strong eschatological note. The state anticipates the future messianic marriage with Christ, "that wondrous marriage decreed by God and which is to be fully revealed in the future age in which the Church takes Christ as its only spouse" (PC 12). Thus religious life is a "splendid" (PC 1) and "unique" (LG 44) sign of the heavenly kingdom. It is customary to equate this eschatological or trans-cendent quality of the religious vocation with an exclu-sive love of Christ that avoids the distraction and competition of a divided heart (1 Cor 7:32-5). But this is the vocation of all Christians. All Christians are called to a unique love of God that does not allow any creature to be placed on the same level as God; other-wise we have idolatry. In the effort to cultivate this unique love of God religious bypass one sign, that of marriage and property and independence, and assume another sign, that of physical virginity lived in poverty and obedience. The celibate community does highlight the eschatological character of Christian life, just as the married community reflects more clearly the in-carnational aspect. As two ways to the kingdom, they are not as two ways of living Christian love, totally exclusive of each other; they complement each other as witnesses of the Church's love for Christ. The hazard of the celibate community is to lose sight of the world and people, whereas-the hazard of the married com-munity is to forget the transient, passing character of the historical moment and lose sight of the Christ who is to come. Religious, therefore, are dedicated to an eschatological existence as a bias and emphasis, but not as an ex-clusive concern. Especially in the light of incarnational theology that identifies Christ's presence in the person and community, religious today are not absolved from temporal concerns, from making their contribution to human development and the building of the earth. They can engage in the same works as the laity, such as teaching, social work, any human endeavor; only their bias will be different. They come to human tasks with an eschatological eye to the future, to what is not yet, to what will come in the final age, already begun, in Christ. In this sense they live in hope. No matter how important the classes they teach or their social involvement, they bring to their work in the world a sense of the Deus semper major, of the person of Christ who is to be revealed in the parousia. Where speciali-zation is feasible, perhaps it is desirable to leave secular tasks to the laity and let religious concentrate on sacred functions. But no universal law demands such a distri-bution of tasks, and the distinction may continue the unhealthy separation of sacred and secular. We should abandon the dichotomies implicit in the phraseology, "religious first, professional second," or "religious first, apostle second." Religious are not "strangers to their fellow men or useless citizens of the earthly city" (LG 46). On the contrary they embrace the world in its truth and reality. They see it as inchoate glory, as the kingdom of God in embryo, and yet as "no lasting city," as a moment in an evolutionary process, and as less than the ultimate Good that is Christ reappearing and handing the kingdom over to His Father. In a word they live in hope, and this hope is the secret of the joy that must be their witness if it is to be true. For them as for the married joy is the surest index that they are living their vocation in Christ. Two practical questions may be raised here. First, what does the eschatologlcal vocation contribute to the Church and the world at large? Second, how does the eschatological emphasis affect the prayer life and selbdenial of religious? The first question is answered admirably in Lumen gentium. Religious are "a sign which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian ÷ ÷ ÷ l~eligious Li]e VOLUME 27, 1968 1025 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. vocation" (LG 44). Why is this assertion made? Because religious represent the presence of Christ Himself "con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed., doing good to all" (LG 46). The second question is more complex. Since prayer and self-denial are founded on the eschatological di-mension of Christian life, it is to be expected that re-ligious life will be characterized by these acts. But both. prayer forms and the practices of self-ddnial must be-come more incarnational. Prayer should become the loving awareness of Christ present in human mani-festations. Such prayer is nourished above all by Sacred Scripture and the liturgy, the only two sources of "the spirit and practice of prayer" explicitly signaled out by Perfectae caritatis (n. 6). Thus mental prayer as con-frontation with the word of God is more important than a multiplicity of devotions (ES, n. 21). For re-ligious as for the whole people of God the liturgy weds the human and divine and is the summit and source of Christian life (Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 2, n, 10). Self-denial too'will take on a more human dimen-sion. The cross is one's daily life, and it is present wherever Christians endeavor to be an Easter people. The self-denial of religious, therefore, will be the self-renunciations inherent in being all things to all men, in fostering community, in giving generously in the apostolate. As a disposition for this life a disci-pline, an ascesis, is necessary. Today this discipline would better consist in the cultivation of the openness, understanding, welcome, and patience that are the necessary framework in which charity can operate rather than in the corporal penances and often mean-ingless gestures of some religious rules. Conclusion We have tried to set down the broad theological principles of religious life. On this background the practical questions about religious life today can be raised and discussed. The basic question which must guide this inquiry is this: In the welter of change and conflicting ideas, where is the Holy Spirit speaking? To what is He calling American religious at this time? The paper offers some guidelines in which to pursue this question', but only in honest and prayerful dialogue can we ask the right practical questions and move in the direction of the Holy Spirit's answers. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1026 L JAMES O'REILLY Lay and Religious States oJ Life: Their Distinction and Complementarity If we must have a fight, let us have a good fight: not shadow-boxing with peripheral questions but hand-to-hand engagement on basic issues, a battle of wits, not a conflict of emotions. Here in the Southland we find ourselves in the midst of a controversy over the subject of renewal of the religious life. Some view the con-troversy as a jurisdictional struggle between religious independence and episcopal authority. The charismatic is threatened by the institutional. Others discern here a clash between modernity and antiquity, between youth and age, between male and. female, between classic and romantic. Others think that they detect a conflict between Perfectae caritatis and Gaudium et spes. No doubt all of these elements are present in the chorus of debate, but only as screechy overtones to a fundamental note. They are present as coloring and obscuring that which is .at the heart of the matter, namely, a just conception of the distinction between the lay and religious states of life, and, flowing from this, a question of the significance of religious presence in the professional world. If we are to have a good fight, this is what we must concentrate upon. We must come to grips more effectively on this central ground instead of wasting our energies on local skirmishing. As a first approximation to a final position, let me venture the statement that the distinction of lay and religious states arises out of the need to provide a system of checks and balances in the general effort of Chris-tians to make an integral response to the human con-dition. Let me elaborate briefly. The human condition is described, at least, in the Christian world, as one of fallen creaturehood moving forward toward a saving James O'Reilly is a faculty member of St. John's Semi-nary; 5012 East Seminary Road; Ca-marillo, California 9301O. VOLUME 27, 1968 1027 games O'Reilly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1028 consummation in Christ. That movement, however, is mysteriously two-sided: one of simultaneous ascent and descent, of evolution-devolution, of engagement and withdrawal. Man's approach to his salvation is both a making and a being made, a doing and a being done to, an accomplishment and a gift. Running through all our days from here to eternity is a counterpoint of nature and grace, of a lifting up and a letting down, an immanence and a transcendence, a winning and a losing, a living and a dying. It is in the effort of the Christian community to keep a just balance between these counter-elements that a distinction in the public order has come to be made between the two states of life, lay and religious. The distinction of states provides a syste