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Science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) policies in the Gulf Arab States are as diverse as the individual economies and political processes that characterize its member states. During the past decade, a number of expert review groups have argued that science and technology policy needs to be reformed and revitalized in the Gulf Arab States. Several reports and studies have identified the need to develop and adopt more rigorous plans to raise the level of research and development (R&D) in the region. In several of the Gulf Arab States, policy makers have sought to address this issue through establishment of new "Education Cities" wherein university campuses have been co-located with industrial parks in order to build regional knowledge economies. Many of these initiatives have attracted foreign talent and global R&D firms. Our research aims to understand the etiology of the under-performance of the R & D efforts in the region. In this paper, we report on results obtained from in-person interviews with the Ministers of Education and other educators in the Gulf Arab States. We interviewed experts in the field of science and technology policy in the Gulf region to address the following major questions: 1) how can science (e.g. biomedical, agriculture, engineering) be strengthened in the Gulf Arab States; 2) how effective are the science policies enacted by regional governments in the Gulf, and how can these policies be enhanced; 3) what role do regional or international collaborations play in a research and training network system, and how can these regional partnerships be bolstered; and, 4) how can the international community assist to accelerate progress and reduce the science knowledge gap. Our results show that the under-performance of the Gulf region in science and technology appears to be due to a: 1) lack of early exposure of young adults to science, 2) low perception of the societal value of science, 3) lack of institutional (e.g. university) resources, 4) too few scientists who make science their long-term careers, 5) lack of an integrated, international research network of collaboration, and 6) lack of motivation among students. We also report on our findings regarding the state-of-the-art of the research enterprise, and the strengths and weaknesses of the research and training environment as perceived by educators/administrators in the region.

Many individuals are grappling with the issue of whether to provide workers with training that upgrades the workers' basic academic skills. The corollary questions that flow from this issue are how to provide the training, how much training should be provided, and who should pay for the training. Workers are interested in this issue because they want to sustain productive, well-paying careers that will support adequate standards of living. Not receiving training may jeopardize their careers and earning power. Employers are interested in this issue because their economic role is to maximize corporate profits for stockholders. In most companies, worker productivity is the most important factor in determining output levels and profitability. Public policy makers are interested in the issue because if productive workers lose their jobs, the public may end up supporting them through income maintenance payments and financing job searches through the employment service. On the other hand, if basic skills-deficient workers get training and keep their jobs, they will continue to pay taxes that support government activities. Educators are interested in the issue because they want to improve the educational system to reduce future basic skill deficiencies and because they may be involved in the upgrading of current workers. The question that is at the core of this issue is easy to state. What should an employer do about a factor of production, be it physical capital such as a plant or machine or be it human capital, that has become unprofitable? For human capital, that is, skills and knowledge, the lack of profitability may stem from the fact that the worker's basic skills were never adequate or it may be the case that technology or workplace demands have surpassed the worker's skill levels. For both physical and human capital, the choices that employers face are limited. They can invest in upgrading the factor of production; they can continue to employ the factor and bear the losses; (Note: I am using the economic cost concept of opportunity costs. A basic skills deficient worker may be paid $8.00 an hour and be productive enough to produce $8.50 worth of product per hour. However, a trained employee or a younger employee may be willing to work for $8.00 an hour and be able to produce $10.00 worth of product. The opportunity cost of not training the worker would be $1.50 per hour even though the firm would not be losing money on the worker.) or they can replace the factor. From an economic and business management theoretical point of view, the answer is easy. Employers should choose the option that maximizes their rate of return. That is, they should choose the option where the difference between the (discounted) future benefits and the costs is the greatest. From a practical point of view, estimating the benefits and costs may be extremely difficult. Furthermore, it is undoubtedly the case that the best option will differ for different situations. There may be cases in which employers would reap large returns from modest investments in workplace literacy training. On the other hand, there may be cases in which employers would be better off by accepting the turnover and hiring costs of replacing workers. In short, it is impossible a priori to prove that it is to a firm's advantage to provide workplace literacy training. It, too, is impossible to prove a priori that it is to a firm's advantage to shed workers with basic skills deficiencies. From a public policy point of view, it should be recognized that society may benefit or bear costs from employers' decisions about inefficient or outmoded factors of production. Thus it may be the case that from a firm's profit-maximizing perspective, it is not advantageous to provide workplace literacy training. But from the rest of society's perspective, provision of the training, is beneficial. In such cases, public policy should facilitate financial subsidies to firms. The purpose of this paper is to present these arguments theoretically to identify the key factors that influence the employer's and society's choices; to discuss some empirical evidence from earlier studies about the payoff to individuals and firms; and to provide policy recommendations.

Doctoral education in medicine, engineering, technology and science (METS) is in many ways different from doctoral education in the humanities or social sciences. In the METS disciplines, typically, students and supervisors work and publish together within the supervisors' research projects. The projects are usually financed by the supervisors' research grants and their success, in terms of high quality research publications, is of great importance not only for the students' dissertations but also for the supervisors' academic careers. In METS contexts, supervisors and students could therefore be said to have double roles: the supervisor being also a project leader and the student also a project worker. Research on this double relationship is scarce, particularly considering the large number of students within the METS disciplines. Doctoral education and research have increasingly attracted interest among politicians and policymakers world-wide, often resulting in new legislation and policy. In many countries, doctoral education has gradually become more formalised in order to improve students' rights and study conditions. Research, on the other hand, has seen the introduction of productivity audits and increased competition for funding. Such changes converge at the level of doctoral education and could be expected to create tensions, particularly within the METS disciplines due to the close integration of doctoral education and research. Sweden provides an especially interesting case as changes to educational legislation and research policy, respectively, have been comparatively large. Swedish doctoral students today are guaranteed four years of fully financed studies and a monthly salary (normally between 2100 and 3000 €). At the same time, more than 50 per cent of funds for research and doctoral education today come from funding bodies (governmental and private) external to the universities and are mainly awarded in competition. In the METS disciplines the dependence on external funding can approach 100 per cent, since government base-funding to a large extent is used for infrastructure and administration in order to attract more external funds and researchers with large grants. Consequently, researchers increasingly have had to compete with research proposals, CVs and bibliometric scores, and institutions are now often described as "research hotels" were you can stay as long as you pay. We have interviewed doctoral supervisors within medicine, a discipline that in Sweden almost exclusively is financed through external funding. For our analysis, we have used cultural-historical activity theory (CHAT) and constructed two co-occurring and overlapping activity systems: one for doctoral education and one for research. We find synergies as well as tensions and contradictions between the two systems but also adaptations. Supervisors describe how increasing pressure from the (research) funding system has reduced the available space for students to influence the design of their projects, to exercise creativity and to fail. Accommodating doctoral students within large and prestigious research projects also means that students often begin their studies at very different stages in the process, and rarely at the design stage. Supervising involves putting projects, funding and future opportunities at high risk, which is reflected in a student recruitment process characterised by risk-management. At the same time supervisors remark that students to a higher degree today view their studies as work rather than a calling. Furthermore, the requirements of educational policy for full funding and formal qualifications necessitates that supervisors form alliances with more senior researchers. Such alliances typically extend also to research and provide senior and well-funded researchers opportunities to exercise power over junior and less funded researchers. We conclude that Swedish research policy, contrary to its intentions and in combination with educational policy, could have negative and far-reaching consequences for doctoral student research and learning but also for the STEM disciplines themselves.

The project, Bite size maths: Building mathematics low socioeconomic student capability in regional/remote Australia, establishes the foundations for a change in the way that online education is offered to low socioeconomic students in regional/remote Australia. The Bite size maths project is a $140,000 project funded in 2016 through the Department of Education and Training (DET) as part of the Higher Education Participation and Partnerships Programme (HEPPP) 2015 National Priorities Pool. The Bite size maths project has delivered an innovative set of interactive modules (as an online learning system) that can be used singly or linked together in a Massive Open Online Course (MOOC—http://www.bitesizemaths.net). The 20 interactive modules developed within the project provide a foundation for improvements in mathematics education across the higher education sector as well as throughout the school system in regional/remote Australia. The use of self-paced learning in the form of guided instruction and opportunities for practice have the potential to profoundly impact on the learning experiences of undergraduate students who have little or no experience in mathematics. Mathematics forms the core of multiple course structures at universities, and previous research emphasises the importance of engaging undergraduate students in building a strong mathematics foundation. This is particularly the case in regional/remote Australia where universities, like those in the Regional Universities Network (RUN), focus particularly on professional careers, such as education and health care, that require mathematical competencies. Contemporary students need to be both proficient in and comfortable with mathematics, so as to bridge the gap between curriculum and understanding the mathematics that is required in such careers. The Bite size maths project showed, for the first time, that a MOOC can be designed on the basis of studies of human cognitive architecture, in this case the principles and effects of cognitive load theory. Development and trials of five modules demonstrated that the combination of worked examples and practice questions (the worked example effect in cognitive load theory) makes a significant difference to test results of students who have little experience in mathematics. After the initial trials, a MOOC (comprised of 20 interactive modules) was built incorporating a number of improvements and innovations. These included other cognitive load effects, as well as point-of-contact feedback. This is the first time that point-of-contact feedback developed at SCU has been used as part of a MOOC. This feedback serves to let students know about their learning approaches, provides guidance on appropriate learning styles, and allows feedback from the students on how well the MOOC facilitated their learning. The end result is a set of integrated resources that can be embedded in undergraduate mathematics units as interactive modules or as a MOOC. The interactive modules in the MOOC offer course-based resources that are designed to allow students to tackle 'bite-size chunks' of the coursework mathematics in which they must develop expertise. The MOOC offers a self-paced introduction to key features of undergraduate mathematics, and is adaptive in that it also offers continual graded assessment and point-of-contact feedback. The content of the modules is based on the literature, as well as on a dedicat students. Many of these students have had less experience in mathematics than their urban counterparts. Furthermore, there is a broad range of mathematical capabilities within this group. As one of the 21 projects funded under the HEPPP 2015 National Priorities Pool, Bite size maths addresses the HEPPP Priority Funding Area, "More effective programme implementation". The Bite size maths project facilitates more equitable and effective program delivery via a mathematics intervention resource that caters for the wide range of student abilities and economic circumstances evident in the education sector in regional/remote areas. In so doing, the Bite size maths project targets low socioeconomic students who are at particular disadvantage, and provides modules that build student expertise and confidence. Commonwealth and State governments, via the National STEM School Education Strategy (Education Council, 2015) have mandated increased emphasis on science and mathematics in pre-service teaching and increased rigour of pre-service courses. This project will assist not only education students, but also those in other courses that require mathematics skills. It provides higher education teachers, senior managers and policy advisors with a tested approach to support significant long-term improvements in the quality of mathematics learning in universities. Importantly, the Bite size maths project offers: • A new vision of the way that mathematics can be learned in online settings and how this can be integrated in the preparation of graduates with mathematics capabilities suited to their professions, and • A mechanism for university teachers to grow the mathematics capability of their students. Successful take-up of the interactive modules or the MOOC requires: • Leadership, clarity of purpose and influence whereby the Bite size maths partners champion the mathematics MOOC at regional and national levels • Strong collaborative relationships between RUN partners to be nurtured and strengthened • Planning for 2017 trials and subsequent roll-out of the interactive modules or the MOOC • Communication about the resource to mathematics students at risk of failure, university mathematics teachers, staff in other disciplines, senior management teams at tertiary institutions, educational policy makers and other senior government strategists • Review of institutional protocols around enrolment, pre-requisites, course accreditation and assessment in order to successfully embed the interactive modules and the MOOC • Resourcing for trials, development and embedding of the interactive modules in mathematics units • Mentoring mechanisms such as workshops for university educators and a website for feedback/support, and • Promotion of the modules and the MOOC by the Department of Education and Training as a means of improving the mathematical capabilities of low socioeconomic or otherwise disadvantaged students at regional/rural universities. This report presents the four main components of the project: • Reviewing undergraduate mathematics in regional/rural Australia (identification of at- risk students, overview of intervention processes and identification of major issues) • Developing and trialling of five online learning system modules • Developing 20 interactive modules that comprise the MOOC, using feedback from the trial • Reporting on the potential of the MOOC as a resource for use in the university sector.

Panelists: James Macklin, Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada; Anne Thessen, University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus; Robbie Burger, University of Kentucky; Ben Norton, North Carolina Museum of Natural SciencesOrganizers: Kimberly Cook, University of Kentucky; Inna Kouper, Indiana UniversityAs research incentives become increasingly focused on collaborative work, addressing the challenges of curating interdisciplinary data becomes a priority. A panel convened at the TDWG 2021 virtual conference on October 19 discussed these issues and provided the space where people with a variety of experience curating interdisciplinary biodiversity data shared their knowledge and expertise.The panel started with a brief introduction to the challenges of interdisciplinary and highly collaborative research (IHCR), which the panel organizers have previously observed (Kouper et al. 2021). In addition to varying definitions that focus on crossing the disciplinary boundaries or synthesizing knowledge, IHCR is characterized by an increasing emphasis on computation, integration of heterogeneous data sources, and work with multiple stakeholders. As such, IHCR data does not fit with traditional lifecycle models as it requires more iterations, coordination, and shared language.Narrowing the scope to biodiversity data, the panelists acknowledged that biodiversity is a truly interdisciplinary domain where researchers and practitioners bring their diverse expertise to take care of data. The domain has a variety of contributors, including data producers, users, and curators. While they share common goals, these contributors are often fragmented in separate projects that prioritize academic disciplines or public engagement. Lack of knowledge and awareness about contributors and their projects and expertise as well as a certain vulnerability in branching out into new areas, are among the factors that make it difficult to tear down silos. As James Macklin put it, ". you're crossing a boundary into a place you don't maybe know a lot about, and for some people, that's hard to do. Right? It takes a lot of listening and thinking."Due to their complex and interactive nature, IHCR projects almost always have a higher overhead in terms of communication, coordination, and management. Panelists agreed that for such projects there needs to be a collaboration handbook that assigns roles and responsibilities and establishes rules for various aspects of collaboration, including authorship and handling disagreements. Successful IHCR projects create such handbooks at the beginning and revisit them regularly. Another useful strategy mentioned was to hold debriefing sessions that evaluate what went well and what didn't.Strong leadership that takes IHCR complexities into account and builds a network of capable facilitators and "bridge-builders" or "translators" is a big factor that makes projects succeed. Recognizing and encouraging the role of facilitators from the onset of the project helps to develop productive relationships across disciplines and areas of expertise. It also enables everyone to focus on their strengths and build trust.Data and metadata integration is one of the big challenges in biodiversity, although it is not unique to it. Biodiversity brings together many disciplines and each of them identifies its own problems and collects data to address them. Data silos stem from disciplinary silos, and it will take a different, more integrated, kind of cyberinfrastructure and modeling to bring these pieces together. Creating such infrastructures and standards around interdisciplinary data and metadata are serious needs, although they are not valued and rewarded enough compared to, say publishing academic papers.Lack of standardization and infrastructure also stands in the way of improving the quality of data in biodiversity. To evaluate the quality of data and to trust its creators, data users need to know who gathered and processed the data and how. When the data is re-used within a collaborative project, there is an opportunity to ask questions and find out why, for example, someone had certain naming conventions or processing and analytical approaches. Long-term data such as species' life history traits, however, can be collected over long periods of time. Improving the quality of biodiversity data requires going beyond interpersonal communication and addressing the issues of metadata and standards more systematically.Panelists also discussed the issue of openness in connection to biodiversity data. Openness contributes to the improved quality of data and an increased return on public investment in science and research. Panelists' positions diverged in the degree to which biodiversity data should be open and approaches to address competitiveness and sensitivity in research. On one hand, they acknowledged the need for some form of embargo on data sharing to allow data originators to benefit from their effort; on the other, they argued that lack of openness promotes silos and diminishes the quality of research and its reproducibility. Panelists briefly discussed the COVID pandemic data as an example of how lack of openness and silos can be detrimental to finding solutions:"COVID has given us the best example we have of how silos do damage to things that could have gone better. . the data wasn't available, if it had been open or not even necessarily open but had anybody had any idea that it existed somewhere, that would have helped a lot. … We are learning those lessons, governments are changing the way they do business because of it. And so for us, I mean, our community, I think this has been one of the best things that could have happened to us in some ways, simply because it forced a change of mindset. And it has forced citizens to get engaged." [James Macklin]The panelists, who brought a wide range of expertise to the discussion, including semantic and digitization technologies, agricultural data, evolutionary biology, and mineralogy among others, discussed projects they work on, which engaged the audience and stimulated a discussion among all participants about the role of end users in biodiversity data curation, non-traditional careers in biodiversity, and approaches to reviewing data similar to traditional research publications. Panelists and the audience also discussed the differences between "cleaning" and "annotating" data, making annotations part of the biodiversity record and data reviews. These productive discussions provide a foundation for further developments in the research and practice of curating biodiversity data and building strong interdisciplinary communities.

The Chameleon Literary Journal has served as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine since 1961. Under the mentorship of its advisor Professor Sean Prentiss, third-year student Lydia Brown analyzed all past publishings in order to understand the extent to which Norwich University students represented LGBTQ+ members, people of color, and women throughout the years. This internship also allowed her to explore the overall history of The Chameleon Literary Journal, including its distinct differences from era to era. As the final product, such findings were accumulated over the course of a single semester and comprised into the following written report. ; Winner of the 2022 Friends of the Kreitzberg Library Award for Outstanding Research in the University Archives category. ; Brown 1 Looking Back on the Representation of LGBTQ+ Members, People of Color, & Women An Analysis of The Chameleon Literary Journal, 1961 — Present Lydia Brown Department of English & Communications, Norwich University EN 415: English Internship Professor Sean Prentiss Fall 2021 Brown 2 Abstract The Chameleon Literary Journal has served as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine since 1961. Under the mentorship of its advisor Professor Sean Prentiss, third-year student Lydia Brown analyzed all past publishings in order to understand the extent to which Norwich University students represented LGBTQ+ members, people of color, and women throughout the years. This internship also allowed her to explore the overall history of The Chameleon Literary Journal, including its distinct differences from era to era. As the final product, such findings were accumulated over the course of a single semester and comprised into the following written report. Brown 3 The Chameleon | 1961 - Present Brief Historical Background Founded in 1961, The Chameleon Literary Journal continues to serve as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine under a team of student editors. Norwich University undergraduate and graduate students are welcome to submit various pieces for review, such as visual arts, drama, poetry, creative nonfiction, and fiction. Sean Prentiss, a published author and professor of creative writing, was selected to be the advisor of the journal when he arrived on campus in 2012. Since his arrival, he has assisted the journal in becoming multilingual by translating students' creative writing pieces into multiple languages. In addition, three-four creative writing awards are issued annually to writers who distinguish themselves amongst the rest of the student body. Brown 4 Introduction Significance of Representation Representation is a system for unambiguously organizing values, ideas, and conduct — all of which enable communication and social exchange amongst members of a particular group or community. From birth onward, an individual's self-c 1 oncept and values are affected by the surrounding environment. Adolescence is an especially critical period for identity development as the classroom serves as the primary site of socialization, although the American K-12 and college school systems have previously marginalized students who were perceived as different. Women are also encouraged from an early age to adhere to the traditional role of a homemaker, rather than pursue vocational training, higher education, and careers in STEM. As the reader will observe in the following excerpts from The Chameleon Literary Journal, Norwich University is no stranger to marginalization as women were not officially admitted for enrollment prior to the mid-1970s. Telltale signs found in the language used by Norwich student contributors indicate that slurs, stereotypes, and insults used against minorities and women were normalized for much of the Chameleon's history. It was not until the early 2000s that there appears to be a significant social shift within the student body due to the increasing presence of minorities and women on campus. Based on these findings, American society seemed to finally be becoming more inclusive, allowing minority Norwich students to express themselves freely, develop social stability, and gain a sense of acknowledgment through positive identity formation as well as representation. 1 "APA Dictionary of Psychology." American Psychological Association, https://dictionary.apa.org/social-representation. Brown 5 Baby Boomers | 1946 - 1964 Brief Historical Background Following World War II and the Great Depression, a significant spike in birth rates occurred throughout the United States. Approximately 76.4 million babies were born over the course of these nineteen years. Most historians claim that this phenomenon stems from the general population's desire to establish their own families — an undertaking that was previously postponed due to World War II. The Servicemen's Readjustment Act also gave soldiers an additional reason to have larger families as the G.I. Bill granted stipends for college tuition, job-finding assistance, and housing expenses. During this time period, economic growth began to increase and the majority of Americans had an optimistic outlook for the future. This encouraged families to relocate from the sparse countryside to the bustling atmospheres of nearby cities. Once these cities were overcrowded by newcomers, plans for large residential communities were undertaken by housing pioneer William Levitt who created the suburbs as a result.2 However, those with xenophobic tendencies followed quickly relocated to the suburbs as cities became miniature melting pots of integrated immigrants with various political, social, and economic backgrounds. This sparked disputes among the American people as legalized statutes remained persistent in enforcing segregation at both the state and local capacity.3 2 Nohria, Nitin, Anthony Mayo, and Mark Benson. "William Levitt, Levittown and the Creation of American Suburbia." Harvard Business School Case 406-062, December 2005. (Revised March 2010.) 3 The first three years of the Chameleon were released during the Baby Boomers generation but were mostly written by students who were born during the Silent Generation (1928-1945). Brown 6 Baby Boomers Overview of Significant Events • Brown v. Board of Education becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1954). • Civil Rights Movement begins (1954). • Rosa Parks refuses to give up her seat to a white man on a public bus (1955). • Montgomery Bus Boycott tackles segregation on the public transit system (1955). • Emmett Till, a 14-year-old African American, is lynched in Mississippi (1955). • 1956 Sugar Bowl becomes the first integrated college football game in the South (1956). • Civil Rights Act becomes the first federal civil rights legislation since 1875 (1957). • Little Rock Crisis prevents students from enrolling in a racially segregated school (1957). • Greensboro sit-ins initiate protests regarding the South's policy of segregation (1960). • Nashville sit-ins initiate protests regarding the South's policy of segregation (1960). • Gay Liberation Movement begins (1960). • Alliance for Progress initiates improved economic cooperation with Latin America (1961). • Katherine Johnson assists NASA's 1962 Friendship 7 Mission (1962). • Civil Rights Act establishes federal inspection of voter registration polls (1960). • Children's Crusade addresses segregation within the school system (1963). • Martin Luther King Jr. leads the March on Washington (1963). • Betty Friedan publishes The Feminine Mystique (1963). • President Johnson proposes the Great Society to combat poverty and racial injustice (1963). • Civil Rights Act outlaws discrimination based on race, religion, and sex (1964). Brown 7 Baby Boomers The Chameleon Highlights "A young woman driving a truck!? That was unusual, no doubt about it…Stupid woman, all guts, and no brains! … Maybe you can imagine what went on inside the young man when an officer stopped him and hurriedly said; Never mind, mister, there's nothin' you can do, she's dead, just some dirty n***** woman truck driver" (1963). 4 —- An excerpt from "The Wanderers" by R. Reid The use of profanities towards both people of color and women appears to be a commonality amongst Norwich student contributors from the Chameleon's founding in 1961 through much of the decade. In this short story, "The Wanderers," terms such as stupid and dirty are used to target a woman of color for being a trucker. The author continues to expand the character's description by using calling the woman the N-word. Deriving from the Spanish word negro, the N-word is now considered taboo as its connotation has been predominantly used by white people to demean those of color. Black social identity has been especially damaged by the usage of this word as it severs their overall sense of national belonging. 5 4 Complete usage of the word is censored in respect of the black community. 5 Pryor, Elizabeth Stordeur. "The Etymology of N*****: Resistance, Politics, and the Politics of Freedom in the Antebellum North." Colored Travelers: Mobility and the Fight for Citizenship before the Civil War, 2016, https:// doi.org/10.5149/northcarolina/9781469628578.003.0002. Brown 8 "…I saw everything. The city has been purified, swept clean, and now fosters only the black scars and in glorious moments of the past…You liar! You had to see the city die! You had to see it spill its false entrails out in the rotten streets to be devoured by the cleansing fires. This place is no longer dirty…" (1961). —- An excerpt from "The Dream Monger" by Anonymous In this short story, "The Dream Monger," the phrase cleansing fires reveals itself to be the cause of death and destruction. Like the Holocaust, mass genocides often surround ideologies associated with ethnic cleansing. This allows for a geographical area to become ethnically homogeneous under an establishment of power. In 20th-century America, for example, Anglo- American colonialism constituted the genocide of countless Natives in America and around the world. Such events will never be widely coined as genocide, however, due to the number of those who survived exploitation, disease, malnutrition, and neglect. 6 The term black scars also leads to further speculation that this short story may involve post-slavery events of America's racial segregation system. One of which included the Tulsa race massacre, decimating the Black business ecosystem and killing 6,000 community members. 7 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women, although there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members.8 6 Anderson, Gary C. Ethnic Cleansing & the Indian: The Crime That Should Haunt America. University Of Oklahoma Press, 2015. 7 Kapadia, Reshma. "The Tulsa Massacre Left a Lasting Impact on Wealth." Trade Journal, vol. 101, no. 22, 31 May 2021. 8 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 9 Generation X | 1965 - 1980 Brief Historical Background Those who grew up during this time were accustomed to having a sense of independence from an early age. This was caused by the increased divorce rates throughout the United States, the unique dynamics of single-parent households, and dual-income parents who were not able to spend as much time at home. Most parents found a life-long career in computers, business management, construction, or transportation. Although routinely working long hours, they still managed to find a healthy balance between exhibiting their creative freedoms within the workplace and maintaining personal relationships with their children. Also referred to as latchkey kids, Gen Xers often spent their downtime conversing with friends via email, channel surfing on the television, or playing video games. They also seemed to have a deep interest in musical genres associated with social-tribal identities, including punk rock and heavy metal. This meant that music became an important self-identifying factor, even influencing the type of attire an individual wore on a daily basis. In the 1960s and 1970s, a countercultural movement known as the hippie era catalyzed other self-identifying factors — especially for those who identified as members of the LGBTQ+ community. American writer Allen Ginsberg formed the core of the movement as he openly opposed all military efforts, sexual repression, and capitalism.9 Ginsburg also identified as gay, serving as positive a role model for members of the LGBTQ+ community and allies alike. 10 9 Silos, Jill Katherine. "Everybody Get Together: The Sixties Counterculture & Public Space, 1964-1967." University of New Hampshire Scholars' Repository, 2003. 10 Eleven years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation X but were mostly written by students who were born during the Baby Boomers generation (1946-1964). Brown 10 Generation X Overview of Significant Events • Selma to Montgomery marches promote voting rights for African Americans (1965). • Thurgood Marshall becomes the first African American Supreme Court Justice (1965). • Immigration & Nationality Act outlaws de facto discrimination against immigrants (1965). • Voting Act outlaws racial discrimination in voting (1965). • Malcolm X is assassinated (1965). • Watts Riots occur in light of Marquette Frye's arrest (1965). • Nation Organization for Women is established (1966). • American Indian Movement is founded (1967). • Detroit Riot sheds blood between black residents and the Detroit Police Department (1967). • Martin Luther King Jr. is assassinated (1968). • Fair Housing Act outlaws discrimination regarding housing (1968). • Shirley Chisholm becomes the first black woman elected to Congress (1968). • East Los Angeles Walkouts are organized by Mexican American students (1968). • Stonewall Riots call for LGBTQ+ members to respond to police raids (1969). • Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1971). • AIM protests against injustice under law enforcement towards Native Americans (1972). • Roe v. Wade becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1973). • Billie Jean King wins the "Battle of the Sexes" tennis match (1973). • Beverly Johnson becomes the first black model on the cover of Vogue (1974). Brown 11 Generation X Relevance to The Chameleon "The pedestrian Walks, talks, and discriminates On such vital and valid criteria as Color, breeding and religion. Sees sex, and is offended. Grows indignant. Has a firm conviction that freedom of speech sometimes goes too far When it lets Martin Luther King "cause trouble" and "incite" riots" (1965). —- An excerpt from "The Pedestrian" by Jacob Sartz Unlike most pieces of writing from the 1960s publishings, this free verse poem seems to call out the discriminatory tendencies of others. The author especially targets any person whose ideologies are rooted in racism, sexism, and other gateways leading to unequal treatment. By labeling them as the pedestrian, such subtlety creates an effect where anyone can be the principal character and thus the reader may begin to question their own actions. As the author begins to shift towards a more political ambiance, African American activist Martin Luther King Jr. is mentioned. From the pedestrian's perspective, however, King is known to overstep the principle of free speech with the exception of cases where it benefits the white majority. Brown 12 "He had gone through a variety of different girls in the next six years, and he had accumulated an assortment of different names in his address book, including a few of the local sweethearts that he'd called up in dire sexual emergencies… When he had heard that his little "streetlight girl" had been married, he put a check next to her name in the book as he had done for several other old flames that had been put out of commission for one reason or another. He thought of her a little while after that, but closed the book as he had always done" (1970). —- An excerpt from "The Street Light" by Paul LeSage Unlike our example directly above, there are several alarming factors sprinkled throughout this short story, revealing how a man uses the sexual objectification of women to his advantage. The man's use of an address book further proves this implication as the women he has been sexually involved with are jotted down in writing. Visually speaking, the reader may think of a grocery list or an inventory of stock goods when it comes to the address book's description. The man proceeds to check off the women who no longer sexually benefit him all while refusing to use their real names, ultimately dehumanizing them in the process. This allows the reader to further explore the harmful effects of sexual objectification, pushing them to decipher the differences between sex and sexualizing.11 11 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 13 Generation Y | 1981 - 1996 Brief Historical Background Many of those who were either born into this generation or lived through it prioritized their careers and personal interests above marriage. This means that they were having fewer children than their predecessors. Like Gen Xers, Millenials were known to be tech-savvy with a specific preference to communicate through email or text. MTV brought them further reason to enjoy screen time when the cable channel was launched in 1981. Originally created to showcase music videos, MTV quickly moved to television personalities. Michael Jackson, for example, served as the precedent for television personalities and leading artists, topping the charts throughout the duration of the 1980s. He eventually became one of the most well-loved television personalities who dedicated much of his offscreen time to charitable efforts. Prince, Whitney Houston, Diana Ross, and many others followed closely behind. Based on the increased media representation of minority artists, it's safe to say that this particular time frame allowed for people of color to debut their own music videos for the first time. This urged the public to gravitate towards soul music and R&B, marking the start of this generation's willingness to embrace black creators. Alongside music, technological advances in STEM were budding with breakthroughs. Women paved the way towards many of these breakthroughs under large startups and federal organizations, inspiring younger girls to do the same through higher education. 12 12 Eighteen years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation Y but mostly written by students who were born during Generation X (1965-1976). Brown 14 Generation Y Overview of Significant Events • Asian American/Pacific Islander Heritage Week is implemented in May (1979). • Boston African American National Historic Site is established (1980). • AIDS Epidemic begins, causing numerous deaths in the LGBTQ+ community (1981). • Sandra Day O'Connor is nominated as the first female Supreme Court Justice (1981). • Federation of Survival Schools leads legal education seminars for Native students (1984). • Ellison Onizuka, the first Asian-American in space, dies in the Challenger disaster (1986). • Minneapolis AIM Patrol refocuses on protecting native women in Minneapolis (1987). • Sally K. Ride becomes the first American woman in space (1983). • Susan Kare made typeface contributions to the first Apple Macintosh (1983). • Michael Jordan is named the NBA's "Rookie of the Year " (1985). • Nadia Perlman invents the spanning-tree protocol (1985). • Carole Ann-Marie Gist becomes the first African American to win Miss USA (1990). • Freddie Mercury dies from AIDS (1991). • Rodney King is brutally beaten by LAPD officers (1991). • AIM revives the Sun Dance ceremony in Pipestone, Minnesota (1991). • Los Angeles Riots result in numerous deaths and $1 billion in damage (1992). • Mae Jemison becomes the first African American woman in space (1992). • National Coalition in Sports & Media Forms is established by native leaders (1992). • "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" bars the LGBTQ+ community from military service (1993). Brown 15 Generation Y Relevance to The Chameleon "I slowly adapt myself to another man's world, But I soon realize that my character is a reflection Of a foreign spectrum I see myself through another man's eyes, My words come from another man's mouth, And my ideals are relocated from another man's mind" (1980). —- An excerpt from "A Nostalgic Experience" by Noble Francis Allen America's social construction has continued to uphold whiteness throughout the duration of its history, while people of color must condition themselves to that of the norm. In this case, the author speaks in the first person, signifying their position as the principal character who is faced with having to mirror the way others perceive the world. This implies that the narrator may have had a weakened sense of self-identity at the time this poem was written. Self-identity is an especially important feature as it consists of the traits, characteristics, social relations, and roles that define who one is. An individual's racial and ethnic 13 background is also included within the same realm due to the distinguishment of their given group's cultural values, kinship, and beliefs.14 13 Oyserman, Daphna, and George Smith. "Self, Self-Concept, and Identity." Handbook of Self and Identity, edited by Kristen Elmore, 2nd ed., The Guilford Press, New York, NY, 2012, pp. 69–104. 14 Woo, Bongki, et al. "The Role of Racial/Ethnic Identity in the Association Between Racial Discrimination & Psychiatric Disorders: A Buffer or Exacerbator?" SSM - Population Health, vol. 7, 7 Apr. 2019, p. 100378., https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.ssmph.2019.100378. Brown 16 "Across his back is a deerskin quiver, and in the quiver, there are seven feathered arrows. Gripped in his sweaty palm is an oak bow. A golden-handled sword, whose blade is as long as a man's leg, hangs from his waist. Its once binding shine has been replaced by a thick coat of blood. His skin is the color of golden honey, and his hair is the reflection of yellow sunshine… A woman emerges from the foliage of the wildwood. Warm sunshine gleams off of browned skin. Raven-black hair drops over a slender neck, and ends upon soft shoulders. Unsuspecting almond-eyes gaze wildly at the sky. She is nude. Her breasts are round, full, and tipped with chocolate nipples. A thin waist gives way to broad hips, and eventually slender legs" (1980). —- An excerpt from "A Blind Odin" by Mitchell T. Kubiak This short story, "A Blind Odin," depicts a deep contrast between the description of a man and the description of a woman. The man embodies characteristics associated with a skilled hunter, such as strength and courage. The woman, however, is only described based on her physical features, all of which seem to align with the male gaze. For those who are not familiar with feminist theory, the male gaze is perceived from a masculine heterosexual perspective with aspects of voyeurism, objectification, fetishism, and scopophilia attached.15 Further descriptions of the woman's bodily proportions also suggest clues about the author, although it is crucial for the reader to understand that Norwich University had very few female candidates at the time this short story was written. 16 15 Snow, Edward. "Theorizing the Male Gaze: Some Problems." Representations, vol. 25, 1989, pp. 30–41., https:// doi.org/10.2307/2928465. 16 Many other excerpts were found focusing on both positive and negative portrayals of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 17 Generation Z | 1997 - 2009 Brief Historical Background Gen Zers are the first to experience technological advances from birth onward. Once the majority reached adolescence, it became evident that there was a growing demand for portable devices. Although the first smartphone was released by IBM during the early 1990s, its overall bulkiness and poor battery life were not ideal for communication lines. Apple has since become the most popular phone brand in the United States. It also helped that the company released the iPod, a portable music device with, at the time, the ability to store over 200 songs. The same year also marked the events of several terrorist attacks on September 11th. Two jet airliners shattered the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in a series of terrorist attacks, killing nearly 3,000 people and injuring twice as many. Those responsible were later identified as members of al-Quaeda, a militant Islamist organization led by Saudi Arabian terrorist Osama bin Laden. Life became all the more difficult for Muslim Americans as they continuously experienced the dangers of Islamophobia on a daily basis. Such dangers surrounded an ongoing spike in hate crimes, ranging from cold-blooded murder to vandalism of places of worship. Even when there was a slight decline in hate crimes years later, Muslim Americans continued to struggle with employment discrimination. Many of those who practiced Islam were either laid off or turned away during the hiring process for reasons directly relating to their religion. By the end of Generation Z, religion no longer served as a determining factor during the hiring process and diversity became a primary focus in the workplace. 17 17 Thirteen years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation Z but were mostly written by students who were born during Generation Y (1977-1995). Brown 18 Generation Z Overview of Significant Events • Gary Locke becomes the first Asian American governor of a mainland state (1996). • Kalpana Chawla boards Columbia as the first woman in space of Indian origin (1997). • Serena Williams wins the U.S. Open Women's Singles Tennis Championship (1999). • Maurice Ashley becomes the world's first black Grandmaster in chess (2000). • Permanent Partners Immigration Act is introduced to Congress (2000). • Equality Mississippi is founded as an LGBT civil rights organization (2000). • Millennium March on Washington raises awareness of LGBT issues (2000). • Elaine Chao is selected as the first Asian American to be Secretary of Labor (2001). • Patriot Act allows the indefinite detention of immigrants and warrantless searches (2001). • Cincinnati-based riots spark unrest following Timothy Thomas' death (2001). • Balbir Singh Sodhi's death is deemed the first fatal act of violence as a result of 9/11 (2001). • Dennis Archer becomes the first African American to be President of the ABA (2002). • Goodridge v. Dept. of Public Health becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (2003). • Grutter v. Bollinger becomes a landmark Supreme Court Case (2003). • Same-sex marriage is first legalized in the state of Massachusetts (2004). • Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon are wed, becoming the first legal same-sex marriage (2004). • Condoleezza Rice is named the first black woman to be Secretary of State (2005). • Nancy Pelosi becomes the first female Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives (2007). • Barack Obama is elected as the first African American to hold office (2009). Brown 19 Generation Z Relevance to The Chameleon "You called me a fa***t and said no one would love me But I am here to say what goes around comes around And now it's your turn to get knocked down" (2004). —- An excerpt from "The Bastard Son" by James A. Hoffman Now used as a slur in reference to homosexual men and boys, the term fa***t has its own unique origin. The term's former use in the Norwegian dialect was originally emplaced to describe a bundle of firewood. Because these bundles were large in size, the term eventually moved towards describing heavyset women who were often seen as slovenly and thus placing them near the bottom of all social classes. When British English ha 18 d made a far greater influence on the Scandinavian languages, the term was combined with bugger, also known as a person who engages in anal or oral sex. Premodern Europe was known to persecute heretics during this time, including homosexuals, as they did not conform to the belief systems of the Church. 19 This short story, "The Bastard Son," is one of the first positive representations of LGBTQ+ members found in the Chameleon as the narrator gains the courage to speak against negative attitudes and feelings surrounding the LGBTQ+ community. 18 Johansson, Warren. "The Etymology of the Word 'Fa***t'." William Percy. 19 Karras, Ruth Mazo. "The Regulation of 'Sodomy' in the Latin East & West." Speculum, vol. 95, no. 4, 2020, pp. 969–986., https://doi.org/10.1086/710639. Brown 20 Generation Z Relevance to The Chameleon "Mother, you are the greatest woman I know. I have based my life upon yours, all the great things you have done and all the obstacles that you were able to overcome; the thing that I admire most about you is the fact that you were a single mother of four and didn't need a man's help, but I always knew that was a great challenge for me, in this world that is much too different from the one that you grew up. To me, that was the greatest obstacle that you conquered" (2004). —- An excerpt from "Mother's Love" by A.M.T Lebron In this dedication, "Mother's Love," the author retrieves past memories in writing to celebrate their mother. It is not often that Norwich student contributors write about the entailments of motherhood. Although it remains unclear whether the author's mother was divorced, widowed, or remained unmarried, the family has a relentless source of love for one another and proceeds to use their shared affection to overcome challenges. Such challenges include economic hardships and increased states of stress as a single mother often relies on one source of income. There is also reason to believe that those raised in similar households develop a sense of independence resembling that of their mother. Some may even develop additional 20 internal resources that will allow them to construct their own identity far from the gender roles typically seen within the American household. 21 20 Kinser, Amber E. Motherhood & Feminism. Seal Press, 2010. 21 Many other excerpts were found focusing on both positive and negative portrayals of minority communities and women. Brown 21 Generation Alpha | 2010 - Present Brief Historical Background Many of those who are either born into this generation or currently living through it witness technological advances at an accelerating rate to the extent of replacing the previously known means of childhood entertainment with mobile devices and streaming services. The dawning of this generation also brought Instagram, the most frequently preferred social media platform to date. The thought of having children was generally delayed across the United States following the economic crisis of 2008, while young adults reportedly dealt with increasing stress from education debt. Following the economic crisis of 2008, it is not uncommon for young adults to deal with increasing stress from education debt. Many Gen Zers who previously planned on extending their families during this time were also affected as financial worries prevented them from having children. In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic caused further economic turmoil when small businesses had to close down to prevent the spread of the virus. Those who were employed under larger corporations, however, moved their offices to home. Between dual-career families and remote work, the boundaries separating professional and personal life became blurred. 22 Such challenges have proved that the young faces of Generation Alpha are capable of resilience, utilizing their own diverse backgrounds to tackle the more difficult questions. This includes advocating for fairness in all aspects of society and questioning the validity of gender. 22 Jha, Amrit Kumar. "Understanding Generation Alpha ." OSF Preprints, 20 June 2020. Brown 22 Generation Alpha Overview of Significant Events • Apple's iPad is released, also known as the first touchscreen tablet PC (2010). • President Barack Obama begins his second term (2013). • Defense Against Marriage Act is struck down by the Supreme Court (2013). • Black Lives Matter emerges as a political movement (2013). • Michael Brown is fatally shot by a Ferguson police officer (2014). • Nine African Americans churchgoers are killed during a Bible study in Charleston (2015). • Same-sex marriage is legalized in all 50 states (2015). • Pulse Nightclub shooting causes the deaths of 49 LGBTQ+ members (2016). • Unite the Right, a white supremacist rally, leads to three deaths in Charlottesville (2017). • Me Too movement is relaunched following the Harvey Weinstein accusations (2017). • Director Jon M. Chu breaks box office records with his film Crazy Rich Asians (2018). • California Synagogue shooting causes the injuries of three and the death of one (2019). • President Trump's wall receives $2.5 billion in funds under the Supreme Court (2019). • Kobe Bryant, along with his daughter, dies in a helicopter crash (2020). • Geroge Floyd is murdered by a Minneapolis police officer during an arrest (2020). • Kamala Harris becomes the 49th vice president (2021). • Spa shooting in Atlanta leaves eight dead, with six being of Asian descent (2021). Brown 23 Generation Alpha Relevance to The Chameleon "It had only been four days since I was bought from the Greens. The Green House was known for cutting off the body parts of slaves and letting them bleed out slowly or waiting for them to die of infection. They used to take other slaves to the field and pick different parts to cut off. If they cut off too much and you couldn't work anymore, they'd leave the bodies in the field as an example of what happens when you make mistakes. " (2019). —- An excerpt from "Mixed Voices" by Alain Cropper-Makidi The author moves to educate the reader on a particular building utilized during America's slavery period. Also known as the Green House, the building lay separate from the main house and lodged slaves who were being punished for fieldwork mistakes. Whipping, burning, branding, raping, and imprisoning were some of the most common punishments for slaves. However, the Green House resorted to dismembering the slaves' limbs and allowing them to bleed out. This short story, "Mixed Voices," also addresses that some slaves received educational instruction from the main house's mistress. This was most likely executed in secret as slaves were generally prohibited from reading and writing out of fear that they would forge travel passes and escape. 23 23 "Literacy as Freedom - American Experience." SAAM, Smithsonian American Art Museum, https:// americanexperience.si.edu/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Literacy-as-Freedom.pdf. Brown 24 "One day You tell me that let's be Together I shake my head Say I'm tired of your lies Rather to get myself alone" (2020). 有⼀天 你对我说我们在⼀起吧 我摇摇头 说我厌倦了你的虚伪 宁愿孤独 —- An excerpt from "Untitled" by Zenghui Zhang Like several others, this poem was both written and translated by a student under Professor Lenny Hu. Since his arrival at Norwich, Professor Hu has assigned his Chinese students the task of writing and translating poetry. This allows them to expand their Chinese literacy and gain a sense of passion for the language itself. As the Norwich language department continues to grow, translations will continue to be included in future Chameleon issues for the benefit of promoting diverse students and staff who already understand or aim to learn beyond that of the English language. Brown 25 Conclusion Sustains & Improves After reviewing all past issues of the Chameleon, it is clear that Norwich's literary journal previously published pieces of writing representing LGBTQ+ members, the BIPOC community, and women in a negative light. This was especially true from 1961 through the late 1990s. Gradually, the Chameleon has begun to positively represent our communities. During our current time period, for example, positive representations have become the primary focus under Professor Sean Prentiss and his team of student editors who have made a conscious effort in improving the Chameleon as a whole. Student writers who distinguish themselves amongst the rest of the student body are oftentimes selected for awards. One of which is the "Be You, Be True Prize" for the best writing by or about the LGBTQ+ community. Additionally, many Norwich University professors currently include culturally sustaining pedagogies within their curricula. Such pedagogies include seeking nontraditional texts, merging language varieties, and encouraging students to explore cultural spaces. To maintain as well as improve such efforts, Norwich University affiliates must remain aware that America's long history of combating minorities often resulted in bloodshed. Although not to the extent of our previous generations, similar events still continue to occur today. Therefore, as one of the most renowned military colleges in the United States, it is our responsibility to protect minority students and ensure that they perceive themselves as valuable members of the community. Without them, the future stands for nothing. Brown 26 References Anderson, Gary C. Ethnic Cleansing & the Indian: The Crime That Should Haunt America. University Of Oklahoma Press, 2015. "APA Dictionary of Psychology." American Psychological Association, https:// dictionary.apa.org/social-representation. Jha, Amrit Kumar. "Understanding Generation Alpha ." OSF Preprints, 20 June 2020. Johanssen, Warren. "The Etymology of the Word F*****." William Percy, pp. 356–359. Kapadia, Reshma. "The Tulsa Massacre Left a Lasting Impact on Wealth." Trade Journal, vol. 101, no. 22, 31 May 2021. Karras, Ruth Mazo. "The Regulation of 'Sodomy' in the Latin East & West." Speculum, vol. 95, no. 4, 2020, pp. 969–986., https://doi.org/10.1086/710639. Kinser, Amber E. Motherhood & Feminism. Seal Press, 2010. "Literacy as Freedom - American Experience." SAAM, Smithsonian American Art Museum, https://americanexperience.si.edu/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Literacy-as-Freedom.pdf. Nohria, Nitin, Anthony Mayo, and Mark Benson. "William Levitt, Levittown and the Creation of American Suburbia." Harvard Business School Case 406-062, December 2005. (Revised March 2010.) Oyserman, Daphna, and George Smith. "Self, Self-Concept, and Identity." Handbook of Self and Identity, edited by Kristen Elmore, 2nd ed., The Guilford Press, New York, NY, 2012, pp. 69–104. Brown 27 Pryor, Elizabeth Stordeur. "The Etymology of N*****: Resistance, Politics, and the Politics of Freedom in the Antebellum North." Colored Travelers: Mobility and the Fight for Citizenship before the Civil War, 2016, https://doi.org/10.5149/northcarolina/ 9781469628578.003.0002. Silos, Jill Katherine. "Everybody Get Together: The Sixties Counterculture & Public Space, 1964-1967." University of New Hampshire Scholars' Repository, 2003. Snow, Edward. "Theorizing the Male Gaze: Some Problems." Representations, vol. 25, 1989, pp. 30–41., https://doi.org/10.2307/2928465. Tenaglia, Sean. '"Seeing Yourself in the Story:' The Influence of Multicultural Education on Adolescent Identity Formation." The Virginia English Journal, vol. 68, 2018. Woo, Bongki, et al. "The Role of Racial/Ethnic Identity in the Association Between Racial Discrimination & Psychiatric Disorders: A Buffer or Exacerbator?" SSM - Population Health, vol. 7, 7 Apr. 2019, p. 100378., https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssmph.2019.100378.

Issue 36.6 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis UmversLty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other dountries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 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. Dattiel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1977 Volume 36 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REWZW FOa REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. (;allen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. My Son's "Hour" by Virginia Ann Gardner, S.S.J.1 who shares via dramatic mono!ogue memories ---of others' contemplations and her own-- in an interview with Mary about 1Sister Virginia Ann resides at 517 East 26th Sty; Erie, PA 16504. I. The Marriage Feast at Cana Now that I think about it, my Son's hour had a special kind of beginning at Cana. Chesterton once said, "There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied--it was his mirth." That is so true it makes me smile. You would have to admit the gospels show little if any of the Alleluia that Augustine said a Christian should be from head to foot. But the evangelists had so much to tell--and, besides, when they were writing, trying to catch the memory of Jesus in words, they knew little mirth themselves. They knew only urgency as they watched Christians pay the price of Love. Little won-der they record no mirth, no laughter, no sign of human joy. Yet, from the beginning, marriage feasts have been symbols of celebra-tion. One finds few somber wedding guests--ever. And so it was at Cana! We had gone to Cana together--Jesus and his new friends, strong, simple men full of the love of life. Cana was filled with mirth and laughter and the warmness of love shared. 817 I~11~ / Revie,w for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Then, strange that I should have noticed, I read the concern on servant faces: all jugs of wine were empty. It struck a sympathetic chord and I turned to Jesus: "They have no wine," I said. It was just a simple remark--nothing more; the observation of some-thing that would bring embarrassment. It was the way anyone would say, "What a pity!"; or, "Isn't that a shame!"---and wish that you could help. You know, if I were to orchestrate a symphony, I'd compose the Marriage Feast of Cana in a major key of sheer joy--until we knew "there was no wine." But when my son responded, "Woman, what is that to you and to me, my hour is not yet come?"--then, I'd have tympanums clap and cymbals clang; I'd deafen ears with the roar of drums. It would be a haunt-ing interlude--repeated often during the symphony to record in sound the history of an hour that began at Cana. Jesus called me Woman. Strange. Did he mean it as a call to sacrifice --a call to live what women through the years have lived? "She is such a woman," we say--and mean there is nothing small about her; she does not stoop to smallness; she endures. Still, it startled me, much as Gabriel had some thirty years before, with--"Rejoice, O highly favored daughter!" Then Jesus spoke again, "What is that to you and to me?" Was he calling me to translate and respond? Translation revealed everything: He meant: were he to act, the act would be but a first on the way to his hour. "My hour has not yet come," he had said. Someone has called its dis-cernment~ etermining the will of God. At Nazareth I had "wondered and was troubled," I even questioned Gabriel. I did not unders.tand. At Cana there was no wonder, no question. I knew! And I said to the servants: "Do whatever he tells you." Yes, I answered~knowing full well "what it meant to Jesus and to me." We would be parted. I would be alone --and where Jesus was, what he would be doing, I would not know. You see, at Cana we shared discernment: His Father willed that his hour should begin. A mother, someone has said, is a lover--a lover who gives of herself and then pushes the loved .one away, both the child and herself enriched. I loved my son; I had given him myself; I had taught him human ways of talking, walking, laughing. At Cana I pushed that loved one away so that he could tell others what to do. The pushing hurt. But long ago I had vowed: "Be it done unto me according to Thy will." Corita says, "To celebrate is to tell who we are and to say yea cere-moniously." That is what my son and I did together at Cana. I spoke my last recorded words: "Do whatever he tells you." My last recorded words! They began my son's hour. John tells it in his Gospel. You'll read it all in John, and only there. Yes, we had looked forward to Cana. We had not known what the Father would ask. He asked me to be woman; He asked for an hour to be-gin; and on that day my son and I, together, shared a fiat. My Son's "Hour" / 8"19 II. Good Friday Evening Now I knew. Now I understood. Scripture had unfolded. It was like hearing that symphony played--one I had studied the score for but had never heard. "Oh, so that's how it goes! It's lovely and aweful." John had come for me--telling me Jesus' hour had come. I knew it of course. I'd known it since that day in Cana. Lovers aren't aware of time. Days, months, years telescoped. I had said my fiat to this hour thirty-three years ago, but thenwI did not understand. It's like writing something or clinging to an idea you don't understand until later. The unknown is diffi-cult, but it's good for you too. How hard it would have been to live those thirty-three years with what I know now! But at Cana the hour moved both Jesus and me at once. We knew. I did not need to speak for him to hear me, because we were both hearing with our hearts then; and we had both said yes. With Jesus it was always yes. I guess it was with me too---because the Father helped me, the Spirit moved within me--and I said yes ceremoniously to the God of my life. I think the Father saw "that it was good." Since then, since Cana, time has dragged and sped. I've heard so many things about my son. Sometimes what I've heard pierced--and I'd remem-ber Simeon. Sometimes, though, my heart quickened. People would tell me of his life, his compassion--and I'd go back to our Nazareth days, days shared with Joseph. But John came--a humbled "son of thunder." I understood. I loved him for it, and.I went with him. Jesus came stumbling up the road---carry-ing that cross. My heart broke; it broke. But even then I understood. You don't live trusting all those years without the courage to be strong. Then Jesus saw me. I extended no veil. I did not weep. I gave him all I could. His Father, my Father, erased from my eyes all pain. Once again, I did not have to speak for him to hear me: "It's all right, Jesus; no, don't worry about me. Your hour has come. I understand." His glance meeting mine spoke too. It was almost as though he tried to smile, and console me, saying, "It's not bad, not bad at all. Don't worry, Mother." Role pl~ying? You call that role playing? Putting on a masque? No, not at all. Me? I call it gift--my last gift to him. My son, who had emptied himself to take on the masque of humanity, would understand. Emptied him-self. I'm told that is the way Paul wrote it. I like the way another has put it: "Poured himself out." That is how I see his hour that started at Cana and became a free accepted death-act on Calvary. Hearing iron strike iron was such a familiar sound to me! My husband was a carpenter and he'd taught my Son. Part of the price of that hour was the giving up of sounds, sounds that brought back "homey" memories. Strength was God's gift to me; but because he is all knowing, and because he is everything my Son had revealed, I knew he'd understand that ever since that hour, I've been very sensitive to iron striking iron. ~i20 Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Three hours is not so long a time. It took us longer to get to Bethlehem --and much longer to Egypt---but no time was longer in all my life than those three Friday-hours. His hour was never so long in coming. My heart still shares that pain as I watch loved ones die--loved ones am(~ng my chil-dren now on earth. My children? Yes, my children. During my son's hour he gave me as Mother to all children of all time and all places. Strange! I had given birth to Jesus for one reason: so that he might be shared with all people of all time and all places. In the greatest hour of that sharing, he too shared me-- with John, and in John, you. At Cana, I spoke my last recorded words, "Do whatever he tells you." In one of my Son's last words, he tells you to take me as your Mother. His hour had come and he gave up~no---he didn't give up, he poured out his Spirit. It was that Spirit that had filled me years ago--and once again--this time eternally, I prayed my fiat and you became my Spirit-child. Now share your Brother's hour caught eternally in time. His hour is here! With him, pour yoursel[ out. III. Holy Saturday "Great will be his dignity." I had pondered those words in my heart for thirty-three years: while arranging the straw in the stable-manager; while fleeing in fear to Egypt; as I stood before the prophet Simeon. They came back with new poignancy during the donkey-pageantry in Jerusalem--and five days later when I saw Jesus' bloodied eyes neath his thorned-crown. Then, as I prepared his bruised body for burial, as I washed his wounds, and Joseph (how good his name was Joseph!) helped me with the linen shroud, I thought of them again. It would have been easy to be cynical but I had watched my son die; and I heard him forgive his crucifiers. Yes, I had heard him cry, "Father, forgive." And I heard him call me Woman. Could the dignity he called me to in that name ever match the dignity of his forgiving love? My sagging shoulders had straightened and John had helped me back to the Upper Room. On our way, John and I said the first Stations--back-wards. I made John show me the Praetorium and take me to Gethesmane. John cried, remembering his sleep. And he told me all my Son had said and done in the upper chamber. It was not the time to speak to him of symphony, but I tried to comfort John; he was young and the day had been agony for him, I knew. Then I withdrew. I cried my tears alone. The Father watched and con-soled me. Jesus had wept at Lazarus' tomb; and Jesus had said just a few hours earlier: "Who sees me, sees the Father." Tears, I knew, were some-thing the Father understood. I let them come. What had happened to my mother-hope? "Great would be his dignity. He will be called Son of the Most High. He will rule forever in a reign My Son's "Hour" / 821 without end." Gabriel had told me that. It was a message from the Father. Let me tell you--that night there was within me a whisper of despair, Was it, I wondered, a whisper my son knew too when I heard him call: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Faith is not faith, we're told, until it has been tested. That night, my faith knew its greatest test. And yet something still stirred within me--and I endured. I waited through that long, long vigil--clinging hard to mother-hope and to the patience I had learned from waiting for his hour. I knew--no, I did not know; I hoped that his hour had not ended. I fell asleep saying, "Lord, I believe; help . . . help thou my unbelief." IV. Resurrection If "appearing" means "closeness," there was no need for my Risen Son to come to me. Together or apart-~I live in him and know his closeness. The time after Cana had taught me that. Then, I had thought Jesus' mission would ask for separation--a typical human fear, I know---but the Father was good. Just as the Incarnation had never separated Son from Father, so Jesus' leaving home kept us still united. With him, I was doing the Father's will, and the Father asked that I share him with the world. I shared, and lost nothing. Jesus had said the one who best does the will of his Father--is his mother and father and sister and brother. People pitied me when he said that. They needn't. He was really saying I was more than mother to Jesus. His Father willed it so and I accepted that will. Thomas Merton, in writing about me, once explained how I felt, "I was glad because He was glad and for no other reason." I say all this so you'll understand: it was not necessary for my Risen Son to appear to me. All that mattered was that I believed and he knew I did. Ignatius Loyola had loved me, so he insisted that Jesus appeared to me first. I never admitted that--even to Ignatius; nor shall I admit it to you. Yes, you like the poem that tells I had gathered herbs and had them ready for Jesus' Easter breakfast. You like to think that, while apostles hud-dled in fear, while women wondered "who will roll back the stone," and Magdalen searched the garden--I was calmly fixing those herbs. I'm sorry. That is like a little jewel---a pretty thought. I cannot say it's more. John, whom Jesus had given me as son, was exhausted when he'd finished his memories of Jesus. '"There are still many other things that Jesus did," he wrote, admitting the world would not have books enough to record them. Some things must wait 'til heaven-~else why have faith? I say, then, to you--perhaps I saw my risen son on Easter; perhaps, as it will be for you, that vision came only ~at death. It matters not. The important thing is Christ had died; Christ is risen. I believed and, so, my child, must you. I promise though, that sometime when we meet in heaven, we'll talk about this if you want. But then I doubt if it will matter. You'll Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 understand when your believing is no longer necessary, for Christ will come again. Wo Dialogue with Mary at 55-~ I was not so old the day Christ died So young I was the night I gave him birth. But when they pulled that spear from out his side No one was quite so old on all this earth. You remember that poem, do you? It's true--I was older at 55. Mothers share the lives of their children and my Child had become sin. I think I can say he had become the sin of all my children; he had taken on himself your sin--with that of all the others. Sin ages one. Faith on Good Friday didn't save me from feeling the weight of all those sins. And with Jesus, I forgave all those engaged in sin's tragedy until the end of time. I forgave y6u--and loved you in my Son. But all this took its toll. Yes, I was older at 55. The death-resurrection act was almost ten years old then. John and I shared a home and much more besides. He had begun his Gospel and he'd leave parts with me when he. went on his journeys. I would read them in the quiet evenings pondering each word in my heart; it would take me weeks to read my son's "last discourse." All the apostles would come to see me--come home, tired, from their journeys. Luke came too--our cousin, constantly asking questions about the early life of Jesus. I loved to share my memories. They had become very precious to me---forming a tapestry now--and even Golgotha brought peace. I had lived my own "healing of memories." Things were different after Pentecost. The Holy Spirit that had come upon me long years ago came to all the apostles--filling them with the Love that had given me the courage of my years. All minutes were precious to me but when one of the apostles would return, and I'd send word to the neighbors, and we'd break bread together, keeping my son's new Covenant --then, I find it hard to tell you what I knew. I don't mean that I didn't feel his Spirit with me always. It was just that I'd experience my pre-Bethlehem days again. Jesus was within me--no longer an unborn infant, but my mature son--and we'd share together all we once did not understand. That knowledge and that wisdom were caught in heartbeats of Love. Then I'd be ready to go to the well again and listen to the gossip of the women. Christians, they would say, "are changing the face of the earth." 2The author herselt' is 55. My Son's'",Hour" / 823 Some were not eager for that change. It exacted a heavy toll, I know. But filled with the Spirit the Father sent me one spring evening--and my risen son sent to the whole world--I could look at each woman with such love that she too could respond with openness to that Spirit. You would have liked my life at 55. Did I long for heaven? I longed, my child, only to do God's will. If ever the Father had been very fond of anyone, he'd been fond of me. I wanted to return that fondness--without anxiety. The Trinity lived within me. I was content to do the Father's will. I don't mean that I didn't feel the cross of separation. I was human-- very human, and I longed for reunion with my parents, with Elizabeth, with Joseph. But it was comforting to know they were all with God. We'd be together again--all of us in his good time and that would mean for eternity. And I said once more to the Father; Behold the handmaid of the Lord Be it done unto me according to your will. Amen! .O Till I Begin I did not understand till I had begun to know. I did not find You, You found me; a small and melancholy st6ne to be carried in Your pocket, till I begin to wear, to shine, till I am brushed to a smooth and faultless final core. Stephanie E. WeIler 1030 East Washington St. Iowa City, lowa 52240 Dread (the Dark Night) and Christian Transformation Leslie Lund Miss Lund is presently working on her thesis to complete her work towards an M.A. degree in Religious Studies at Gonzaga University in Washington; her interest is in spirituality. She resides at E. 945 Nora, 4~4; Spokane, WA 99207. It is difficult to be living an authentic, deep Christian life without shortly running up against the cross, the "dark night" (St. John of the Cross), the "cloud of unknowing" (14th-century anonymous Christian mystic), or "diminishment" (Teilhard de Chardin). I will lump all such terms, and the experience they attempt to express, under the catch-all word, dread. These elements of suffering and diminishment (dread, as we may now call it) are not peculiar to Christianity, and neither is mystical experience itself. Such experiences are not in themselves a good. Dread is not to be sought for its own sake. We are not stoics or modern existentialists or Buddhists --but Christians--and this article cannot be read outside the total Christian perspective. Christians may not affirm or emphasize the negative aspects of spiritual growth to the exclusion of ultimate Christian hope, fulfillment, the restoration of all things in Christ. It is my hope, lest distortion arise, that this focus will be kept clearly in mind throughout the article until its final elaboration in the concluding pages. The Paschal Mystery is diminishment, yes, but it is transfiguration. It is the cloud, but it is truth and light. It is the dark night of the soul, but it is union. It is the cross, but it is, ultimately, the resurrection. Though there may be a number of different levels or nuances to dread, in this paper I will be dealing with a very specific understanding of it. The focus will be on religious dread, though to accentuate its particular qualities 824 Dread and Christian Transformation I Will at first show religious dread in counterdistinction to an existentialist conception of dread. There are a variety of states of dread, even within the religious context, so to further narrow the topic, this article will concern itself with the religious dread experienced in serious prayer (desert prayer or contemplative prayer-~-the "dark night of the soul" in John of the Cross). For a representative understanding of this state of dread I will use the l~anguage and thought of a "classical" contemplative, the author of The Cloud of Unknowing, and also of a modern contemplative, Thomas Merton (from his book, Contemplative Prayer, in which the topic of dread is dis-cussed in some depth). Dread Dread is a basic, and common, human experience, and as such, it is a theme that recurs in literature, psychology, philosophy and theology. For the philosopher Kierkegaard, dread could also be set within a religious context. But even so, generically it can be described as a condition or state of being that comes before and precipitates a choice (leap) from one period of life to another. Dread, then, involves the awful possibility of freedom, for it forces the choice for or against new realities or potentialities. This state of freedom and new choices is recognized as very painful by existentialist philosophers, but Kierkegaard believed one could be delivered from it by making a leap, a commitment to the "objective uncertainty." The leap is the leap of faith.1 The choice is painful because it is made in regard to the unknown and undeterminable, and hence to what is both attractive and fascinating, but revolting and frightening. It is a very uncomfortable sit-uation, marking the end of self-complacency and the beginning of some-thing new. Let us further define dread. Christians, along with existentialists, can describe it as a state of anguish, alienation, and insecurity. It also includes a recognition of the limits of reason (the experience of "absurdity" for the existentialist), though for the Christian this does not therefore imply that what is is meaningless, but rather, that the meaning escapes the power of haman reason, and lies beyond the self in the.transcendent mystery of God. However, religious dread includes attributes or nuances beyond "sec-ular" dread. It includes for the Christian also the awareness of sinfulness, wandering, exile, Iostness (Exodus themes). This state Merton describes as ". death--a kind of descent into our own nothingness, a recognition of helplessness, frustration, infidelity, confusion, ignorance.''~ The person can experience an acute, sense of his own uselessness and worthlessness. This experience and awareness of the self is particularly painful, though for tThe similarity of this secular view of dread with our religious dread, and what it means in a Christian context will come Clear, hopefully, a little later. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Garden City: Doubleday, 1969), p. 34. ~196 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 the Christian this pain does not drive him to self-sufficiency in setting up the self as the center of its universe, but on the contrary, pushes him towards God as the center and meaning of his being. The author of The Cloud of Unknowing makes this statement about the experience of nothingness, self and sinfulness: Then will come a time when he recognizes in that nothingness no particular s'in but only the lump of sin itself which, though but a formless mass, is none other than himself; he sees that in himself it is the root and pain of original sin.a ; Rephrased for 6ur own time we might call this an understanding of the experience of self-worship, with the accompanying experience of this false self as the root of sin, darkness, emptiness and alienation. Our anonymous author also wrote that to feel one's own existence, which is'the content of our modern word "dread," is the greatest suffering possible. ". he alone understands the deep universal reason for sorrow who ex.periences that he is."4 It is more terrible than any other type or level Of experienced isolation and separation. Within the experience itself often comes the realization that this must be what hell is like. And with it also comes the temptation to despair at ever being healed or delivered from it and froha the burden of self. That we are as we are (separated existence) is the source of our deep anguish. The illusion that brings the agony is the failure to experience God in one's own being. Instead, one experiences his .being apart from God. For as often as he would have a true knowing and feeling of God in purity of spirit ¯. and then feels that he cannot--for he constantly finds his knowing and feeling as it were occupied and filled with h foul, stinking lump of himself., he almost despairs for the sorrow that he feels, weeping, lamenting, writhing, and blaming himself. In a word, he feels the burden of himself so tragically that he no longer cares about himself if only he can love God? This is the fundamental cause of this type of dread, though there are other corollaries and ramifications. The alienation that causes the anguish is more than a sense of being a useless, unnecessary, ephemeral being, and includes a profound experience of being separated from God, all men, and even from the self. This gives rise to acute feelings of insecurity, for not only can we not control God, we are even powerless to control or to be reconciled to ourselves. We discover we have nothing and are nothing by ourselves. This period of dread is a time when faith is seriously challenged (as is everything that has ultimate value and meaning in the Christian's life). The fear is great that faith will be lost or abandoned, and that the see,rningly absurd and meaningless, or even despair, will be embraced instead. The aThe Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling, ed. by William Johnston (Garden City: Doubleday, 1973), p. 137. 41bid., p. 103. 5lbid., p. 104. Dread and Christian Transformation entire process of dread is a crucible of honesty, where truth is almost experienced as the enemy because of the pain it causes. One sees too clearly his own unfaithfulness and dishonesty in regard to Truth, especially as it involves the truth of his own life. The existentialists coined the phrase "bad faith" which is descriptive of the awareness that one is capable of, or has been living his life untruthfully, that one has not been true to God, to his fellow man or even to himself. One perceives that he may have been living contrary to the truth of his own call or condition. Indeed, truth itself is questioned. Old ideals and values lose their certainty. There is the suspicion that one may have set himself up as the standard of truth, or there is the temptation to do so if truth is not so certain for him. Deep down, far back in the mind there are demands or calls or possi-bilities that are only dimly and faintly recognized. Failure to respond to, or even examine them, haunts and produces a sense of failure and guilt. Somewhere there is a stubborn, defiant refusal to be all one can be. Every-thing feels illusory and slippery, and out of control, and this gives rise to panic. We "want out," we want to escape the condition, but we do not know what we want instead or where to go. The experience of rebellion and anger are overwhelming at times. We experience, too, a deep hatred for God and for ourselves. God is like a "monkey on our back"--an ever constant and annoying affliction that we cannot get rid of, Like Jeremiah we feel angry at being tricked and duped (20:7). This kind of relatedness to God is not at all what we expected. The spiritual understandings and com-forts of the past have vanished. We are comfortless. To pray is nearly impossible, if not impossible. Gone will be your new fervor, but gone, too, your ability to meditate as you had long done before. What then? You will feel as if you had fallen somewhere between the two ways having neither, yet grappling'for both.6 Not prayer, or mass, or confession, or any fulfillment of the "law" can take the dread away, or bridge the gap between God and the false self. The schism between this self and all that is seems infinite. The self is seen as bankrupt and barren, and the ha~-dness of heart, selfishness, and self-cen-teredness make us recoil in disgust and near despair. "I am gall, I am heartburn, God's most deep decree. Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me.''7 But still there is the clinging to the illusory false self for fear that if we let go of even that miserable possession we will have nothing and be nothing. God could not be so audacious as to demand that from us! Even though it is seen that this clinging to the false self causes our spiritual 6lbid., p. 143. 7Gerard Manley Hopkins, Poems and Prose of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1963), p. 62. 1~21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 "sickness" and estrangement between God and self, still the all important, confused "I" remains th~ center of worship, and without the grace of God it can never be otherwise. The alienation is truly terrible, for it is not estrangement from the abstract, transcendent God of the philosophers, but is estrangement with the All and the ground of our own being. This point being re~iched in the ¯ dread of contemplative prayer, nothing is more terrible than the suffering of emptiness at the prospect of living without God, though the ambivalence of attraction and fear is again experienced--the proverbial "I can't live with him, and I can't live without him." At this point comes the temptation to believe that not even God can be what is needed, that not even he can fill the void, indeed, that he could not be the revelation of love of Jesus, but is instead, uncaring and disfant. "Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, how wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost?.-8 But there is a worse temptation. Maybe He does not exist at all;. and everything is meaningless. Though at first the struggle may be fierce and intense, strug-gling to fight back the chaos, finally one ". loses even the power to struggle._ _He feels himself ready to sink and drown in doubt and despair."9 Transformation While a description of dread needed to be set fo~-th, let us be reminded that this diminishment and apparently disintegrative condition is not the total picture, Much more is happening simultaneously. Does this most horrible of human experiences have a positive value for Christians? What is th,.e. "much more" that is happening? At bottom, it is all the mystery of the transforming cross, and since Christians are used to paradox, it should not be surprising that those who have come through dread speak of it as a "blessed gift." "God in his mercy protects the contemplative in this way, though some foolish neophytes will think he has turned enemy to them.''1° There are several approaches that can be taken in response to the process of dread. One can insulate himself from it by retreating into illu-sions of the world,, getting involved in society's concerns and structures, or in general, by just keeping busy and blocking out any interiority. Or, as many are saying today, one can escape it by "going through it." Thomas Merton wrote that the "chief service of the monk was not only silence, listening, and questioning, but was also b~ing open and exposed to dread."~ Those who are serious about their prayer and faith life, and gradual transformation into Christ, face, and even embrace, the crucible of dread, Slbid., p. 67. 9Merton, op. cit., p. 99. ~°The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 145. ~Merton, op. cit., p. 25. Dread and Christian Transformation / 829 and allow themselves to experience it totally. This is not done stoically. It is not done lightly. There is resistance, for Christians are not masochists; they always struggle against evil. It is the "If it is possible let this cup pass--not my will, but Yours" prayer of Jesus. Even the decision to go through this process is a mystery, and is often not even articulated at the conscious level. There is the sense of continually "letting go" and sub-mitring to the process and moving in the darkness and uncertainty, but if the question were put, "Why are you doing this?" probably no satisfactory answer could be given. This should not be a worry, and can be taken as a sign that it is an authentic transforming process, for it is not something we do to ourselves, rather it is something done to us with which we cooperate. It is the desert experience of the young Israel. Nothing is certain. Help, if it comes at all, comes only at the eleventh hour, barely in the nick of time. It is a period of trials and collapses. But it is the fruitful time of formation (as it was for Israel) and, it was, as it still is, the movement towards the Promised Land. There does not seem to be much of a choice once the process has started. It appears that God has forced us into a radical decision. (In The Book of Revelation he spits out the lukewarm.) We must make a choice. We are forced (as our existentialist writer, Kierkegaard, observed we would be). This makes us angry. We want to sit in the middle, but must choose the dread with its seemingly horrible emptiness and darkness (though we somehow s.uspect: accompanying growth and maturity) or withdraw and drop out of the process, letting ourselves become trapped in our own illusions and immaturity. Our Catholic tradition has always placed a value on suffering (more often than not a distorted value) and somewhere along the way we have all heard that this diminishment is a necessary factor in spiritual growth. If it is the authentic process, and not a pseudo one that we bring or put on ourselves, this can be so, and our faith can be deepened. Merton must be read in context, but he also puts it this way, ". full maturity of the spiritual life cannot be reached unless we first pass through the dread, anguish, trouble, and fear that accompany the inner crisis of spiritual death, where we abandon attachment to our exterior self and surrender completely to Christ.''12 Attributes of Transformation It is time to take up a description of the attributes that the transformation process of dread can accomplish. It brings about many spiritual benefits and new dispositions. Since it threatens faith, it also changes it and deepens it. The doubt and despair serve to purify faith and destroy some of the more human elements of it (i.e., the need for certainty, and a correspondence to t2lbid., p.110. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 one's way of looking at reality, etc.). It is not what it was before. It takes on new dimensions and powers. We can finally experience the very "dearest freshness deep down" of things that Hopkins wrote of in his poem "God's Grandeur." Some time during the process of dread we become more comfortable with it, i.e., with the uncertainty, darkness and emptiness. The dread has moved us mysteriously beyond the need for consolations or gratification of immediate desires, or need to control what is. The process has the power to radically alter attitudes, and once the person has been emptied and humbled through this process that is beyond his control, he can be filled with Christ-like attitudes. His stance before God can include such attributes as opennes, s, pliableness, purity of heart, dependence, defenselessness, emptiness, hopefulness, truthfulness and gratitude. One becomes receptive to the fullness of God through the process. As was mentioned earlier, it is definitely not a time to be trying to regain self-possession, nor is it a time to be making new resolutions. However, it is a time of surrender and a time of letting go of the control and direction of one's life, and of giving it trustingly into the hands of the Lord who has been in charge of the process all ~along. It is the moment to depend only on him and his grace. Again, the experience of dread forces honesty.'It makes us evaluate our commitments and motives and beliefs at a much deeper level. It surfaces questions to ask ourselves that we could not have asked before. It is a blessed time when we come to encounter our real selves, to get to know that person we truly are. It also destroys false conceptions of God, and reveals him as he is in himself. The authentic process reveals sham and posturing. It gets us down to rock bottom. It does not allow hypocrisy, and false religiosity. It makes clear our illusions, idolatries and addictions. It is the experience of being the broken clay pot, for it takes awhy our sense of self-possession or assurance. And though we can often be worried that the dread takes us only more deeply into ourselves, or gets us caught up in the trap of constantly taking our own emotional and spiritual pulses, in the end, the process takes us out of ourselves. The experience, in dread, of alienation becomes trans-formed into a great recognition, need and desire for reconciliation and union with God and our fellow man. It is said that God tests those he loves. This is scarcely of any comfort in the darkest hours of dread, and it is in no way adequate for describing the mystery of the process, but there is some truth to it. The process is a gift of God's enigmatic mercy, and it is God's work, not ours. (In the more traditional vocabulary it is known as passive purification.) Only the false self is destroyed and emptied, but to make room for the Christ-self. Re-men~ ber, we are not masochists or stoics or manicheans--but Christians, for whom each individual, including the self, is precious, not evil. But the true Christ-self cannot be happy or full apart from God, and it is the process Dread and Christian Transformation of dread that intensifies and deepens this realization. The Paschal Mystery is the dialectic that accomplishes this. Thomas Merton writes, This alternation of darkness and light can constitute a kind of dialogue between the Christian and God, a dialectic that brings us deeper and deeper to the conviction that God is our all. By such alternations we grow in detachment and in hope.~3 Our anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowing teaches that this is God's way of preparing, educating, and forming us through the alternation of hiS presence and absence. "As often as he goes, he will come back. And if you will suffer itall with gentle love, ea+h coming will be more marvelous and more joyful than the last.''14 In the process, doubt becomes faith. Despair becomes hope. The chaos and confusion become liberating and freeing. Hatred and anger mellow to gratitude and love. Rebellion becomes surrender. Peace comes in the com-mitment of the self to the loving will of God, and in the death of the false self comes the resurrection of the new Christ-self. The language and purpose of contemplative ~lread has a Pauline cast to it. The dread becomes the process in which the incomplete, false self dies so that the true self can come to be. It is "terrible" as the author of The Cloud of Unknowing calls it, but it is the work of love, nonetheless. The false old self dies, but this can be a joyous death for the Christian, for it is really the fulness of being. Therefusal to participate in this "work of love" results in a self that remains separated and isolated from the ground of its be!ng, God. To choose the destruction of the false self is necessary for the life of the true, resurrected self. It is to reject the illusions of the idolatry of the self. It is to truly believe at last that one is only himself when he is in union with God. "This simple awareness of my being is all I desire, even though it must bring with it the painful burden of self and make my heart break with weeping because I experience only self and not God. I prefer it with its pain., for this suffering will set me on fire with the loving desire to experience God as he really is.''15 Thus the author of The Cloud of Unknowing realizes that the suffering he.endures is really not hell at all "but his purgatory,.''16 He instructs the reader to not be troubled if his emotions or imagination tempt him to give up, for the prize is near. He asks simpl3i that a gift of the self be made as it is, to God as he is. Further, he counseis that there is no need, no matter ho.w it seems, for fear or panic or discoiaragement. His understanding is that it is a time to suffer humbly, waiting patiently in trust. For we do not know what is best for ourselves, but God, in his love and mercy, uses dread to bring us to his fuiness. God is audacious for us, and the process is nothing less than a total metamorphosis. "Now you are on what I might call a sort ~albid., p. 35. t4The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 184. 151bid., p. 174. ~lbid., p. 137. ~132 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 of spiritual ocean, in voyage from the rife of the flesh to the life in the spirit."~7 Though the author of The Cloud of Unknowing refers to this dread as a "hell of purgatory," a twelfth-century Cistercian monk, Isaac of Stella, refers .to it as a "hell of mercy." This is an even more powerful and rich notion. Here I quote the passage surrounding the idea of the "hell of mercy," for it very much embodies the reason and purpose of dread, that is, to destroy the false self, so that the Christ-self can be resurrected, and receive God himself. It also makes clear the concept of purification, not as punishment, but as a gift and work of Love. This passage must be read in the context of the total Christian dimension of diminishment and restora-tion, of cross but resurrection. It is too powerful and beautiful to para-phrase, so I leave it as it was written: "So let us be cruel and harsh for ourselves. I mean for the exterior man, so that we not offend the judge of both the interior and exterior man. If we accuse ourselves in all truth; if we judge ourselves with severity; if we condemn ourselves in harshness, we will not have to fear another accuser; nor will we have to be afraid to meet or confront another judge, or to have to endure or submit ourselves to another chastiser. What do we look for--pleasure or rest? We are on the cross. Or rather, we were in the world; we are in hell-- but a hell of mercy, not of wrath; we shall be in heaven. In the world, we sinned; here, we make atonement; there, we shall rest. There, we were in pleasures; here, in pain and tribulation; there, we will be in glory. There, we were in the dirt; here, we are in purification; there, we shall be in peace. "So let the Father be the Father of our souls and the chastiser of our bodies. Be he the Father of the Son of God in us. Be he the one who feeds and nourishes, the pedagogue and teacher, as long as childhood lasts, for him who i~ the future heir, and who as son, will dwell in his house forever. Be he for the son of man (man) theone who bruises and who humiliates, the one who betrays and seduces, the one who takes everything away, the one who crucifies and buries. If he neglects to act this way towards us, let us be ourselves the murderers of the son of man (man), but feeders and nurturers of the Son of God within us, so that he grow and become un-surpassed, or, as the apostle says, until Christ is formed in us, and we attain the perfect man in the fullness of Christ, who with the Father and Spirit reigns forever.''~8 In this same vein, though.from a different age and manner of expression, Thomas Merton also sums up the real value of dread, "The purpose of the dark night., is not simply to punish and afflict the heart of man, but to liberate, to purify and to eialighten in perfect love. The way that leads through dread goes not to despair but to perfect joy, not to hell but to heaven."19 171bid., p. 184. 181saac de L'Etoile, Sermons (Paris, 1974). pp. 148, 150, 152. ~aMerton, op. cit., p. 110. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, well known to our readers, presently devotes his time to lectures, retreats and chapter consultations for religious and priests. He resides at the Marist Administration Center; 4408 8th St., N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. No finite reality is adequately understood except in terms of its context. Even the God of revelation presents himself in Scripture in the context of a created world. The individual person is understood against the back-ground of his family, and social problems are evaluated in terms of the milieu in which they occur. A sentence is grasped only within its paragraph and the paragraph within the entire article. The classical example of this truth is the biblical statement, "there is no God." This is understood only with the words that precede it: "the fool says in his heart that . " Celibate friendship can be understood only in terms of a complete pic-ture of the raison d'6tre of celibate dedication. To discuss this way of life without a previous consideration of its primary orientation (which can be known only from Revelation) is to present a truncated account, almost necessarily an illusory account. The Usual Explanation The popular explanation of friendship in religious life is likely to begin with our modern and improved understanding of human sexuality. It goes on to say that while there was in bygone days an undue repression both of the reality and its open discussion, we now see a positive worth beyond that of procreation and we freely share our views about the matter. This may be followed by the basically favorable view of sex that we find in the Bi-ble-- even though anything approaching an adequate discussion of virginity 1~34 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 in the New Testament is omitted. At this point we arb likely to meet a disapproving look into the patristic and medieval literatures. Next the writer or speaker may direct attention to contemporary theories of sexuality as they may be applied to the celibate condition. Little or no attention is given to the revealed context of consecrated virginity. Instead we may find a mixture of undoubted truths ("the two sexes are complementary") with less secure statements (physical signs of affection [no limits mentioned] are normal between celibates) and even clearly .false ones ("there is no vocation to celibacy, only that to Christian life"). The legitimacy of celibate friendship is then supported and illustrated by the classical examples of Jordan and Diana, Catherine and Raymond, Jane and Francis. In this usual explanation there will be words of caution, for not anything at all is acceptable behavior. Yet the limits are not clear and some people carry away from the discussion the impression that occasional serious sin ought not to disturb the two friendsunduly, that such is the price of an enriching relationship. Celibate men and women need to mature in their relationships so that they can "handle" their emotional reactions. Religious and priests differ, of course, intheir evaluations of this typical discussion of celibate friendships. Some are highly critical, others are favorably impressed. My own reactions are mixed. Ican identify with some of the ideas in these presentations, but I also find serious shortcomings. There is often a lack of theological accuracy and of a realistic assessment of the human situation. There may be insufficient contact with the biblical word and, especially, there is no adequate context. Celibate friendships are seen as though celibacy itself were chiefly a matter of interhuman rela-tionships and apostolic freedom. Here, as elsewhere in human life, faulty premises yield faulty conclusions. The Celibate Context As a dedicated ~vay of life, a permanent ideal embraced for the King-dom, consecrated virginity/celibacy~ appears for the first time.on the face of the earth in the persons of Mary and her Son. It is a 'theological ~eality in the etymological sense of that word: its meaning is found only in God and it can be known only from his lips. Although they may be helpful in an ancillary way, psychology and sociology of themselves know nothing of consecrated celibacy. The celibate is grasped by the Lord God in a manner so radically new that his whole life undergoes a basic reorientation. All men and women are to be oriented toward God as their raison d'etre, but most reach him q shall use the two terms interchangeably even though strictly speaking they do differ. In every case the adjective, consecrated or dedicated, is supposed. Virginity is the preferred biblical term, while celibacy enjoys common modern usage. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality through the intimate and human sharing called marriage. The celibate on the other hand omits this sharing in order to respond to another more deeply intimate and divine sharing. Even one who may not be able to see the ¯ significance of these profoundly mysterious words can readily perceive their fundamental radicality. It is this fundamental radicality that must be grasped before we can understand what friendship should and should not be between celibate persons of the same or diverse sexes. Until we know how these persons relate to God we do not grasp how they relate to one another. Without this context, discussions of friendship are not likely to be on a much more elevated level than those of the syndicated advice columns found in the daily newspaper. Virginity, a Privileged Sphere of the Sacred Virginity is a vocation, a new vocation, a privileged vocation. To ap-preciate this fact we must refresh out understanding of the biblical concept ofqadosh, the holy, the sacred. We moderns tend to equate the word, holy, with virtuous. For us the holy person is the morally good person: patient, chaste, gentle, honest. For the ancient Hebrew, ttie "holy" is the set-apart person or thing. One was consecrated, holy, not primarily because he was virtuous (though that would be supposed), but because he was reserved for the service of the Lord God. All holiness derives from the utterly holy One. God is totally trans-cendent, totally other, even though entirely immanent in his creation. One becomes holy in this sense when he approaches the burning otherness of the Lord, when he is therefore set apart from the ordinary, the everyday, the merely finite. God's people, for example, are a holy people because they are selected from all the nations of the earth and set apart for him. This is the sense of 1 P 2:9: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light." Continence was practiced in the old dispensation before a priest par-ticipated in the temple liturgy or soldiers went off to the holy war (which shared something of a liturgical enterprise), not because sexual relations in marriage were bad, but because they were of the humdrum, ordinary life. Sexual intercourse was avoided at these times because it was of t, his world, whereas the priest or soldier was to enter the sacred sphere of Yahweh. He was to engage in something qadosh, holy,set apart, and thus he prepared himself by removing himself from the everyday occupations of marriage and daily life. When ther(fore, St. Paul speaks of the virgin as being holy in body and spirit he is not talking first of all of her moral goodness, though that is not excluded. He is saying that she, unlike the married woman or man, is set apart for the sacred sphere of the Lord God. As a virgin she need not be concerned with the dozens of duties that are the normal round for a wife 836 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 who cares for husband, children, household. She can give "undivided attention to the Lord" insofar as she is not burdened with the concern for this world that is necessarily entailed in familial duties and sexual relations. By calling the virgin holy, qadosh, St. Paul is not saying that she is virtuous while the married woman is not. Both are to be morally good. The dif-ference is that, as married, the one lives in the sphere of this world, while the other lives in the sphere of the Lord. This language and thought pattern are expressed by Jesus himself in his priestly prayer at the Last Supper. He says that neither he nor his select disciples are of this world (Jn 17:14, 16). He "consecrates" himself, makes himself holy, set apart, so that they too may be set apart in the truth (Jn 17:19). Jesus belongs to the privileged sphere of the Father in a preeminent way. He is reserved for the Father alone and so he declined an earthly marriage. His food was to do the will of the Father and nothing else (Jn 4:34). He could not have given the attention to this world that marriage requires. The celibate is celibate precisely as Jesus was and for the same reasons. The celibate, the virgin is a man or woman who, while living on planet earth and involved with its joys and sorrows, its hopes and burdens, is none-theless a person set apart. He belongs to the sphere of the transcendent, which is the sphere of the infinite, the other, the Lord God. This is one reason magisterial documents indicate that the primary orientation of re-ligious life is not engagement in an external apostolate but rather prayer, penance, gospel example.2 The religious vows afford a freedom for uni-versal love and apostolic involvement, yes, but that freedom is second to a prior freedom for a direct love-prayer relationship to God himself. The first commandment remains first, and the second remains second. Celibacy, an Excluding Fullness3 Celibacy for the kingdom (the only type we envision here) is not first of all non-marriage. It is a fullness in its own right. In a similar manner the earthly marriage of Susan to Philip is not first of all a non-marriage to Robert or William. A religious or priest does not see his consecration at all ade-quately until it appears as a positive fullness in its own right. The person with the celibate charism has been grasped by the Lord for a special, direct relationship. God takes the initiative and so orientates this person that he (she) "cannot" give a marital attention to another human being. The authentically married person experiences a similar "cannot" in relation to others than his spouse. The married man could physically attempt marriage to another woman than his wife but it would do violence to his being. The ~See Christus Dominus #33 and Renovationis causam, 4~2. aA more complete treatment of this section may be found in my article, "Celibacy As Full-ness," REWEW VOR REL~C~Ot~S, January, 1975, pp. 88-100. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / 83? celibate could likewise attempt marriage but it would do violence to his person. God so captures the genuine virgin that she cannot but focus her being on the Lord's affairs and give him her undivided attention. In spiritual direction of religious one sees instances where this cannot is completely obvious. Virginity/celibacy is an exclusive God-orientation, a focusing on "the one thing," a fullness in its own right. From this positive reality flows the negative, the non-marriage. The healthy celibate appreciates and values the beauty, attractiveness, goodnesses of the opposite sex, but he appreciates and values even more the immeasurably greater beauty, attractiveness and goodness of God himself. The virginal heart is a large heart, a heart so large that earthly marriage cannot fill it. Erroneous Premises Many, perhaps most, significant differences among religious in recent years are fundamentally due to widely different presuppositions. An ob-vious example is one's ecclesiology. If one person wholly embraces the ecclesiology of Vatican Council II and another that of liberal Protestantism, ¯ it can hardly be surprising that they entertain basically different notions of what religious life is. Whatever one thinks about celibate friendships, it is quite certain that his thoughts stem from underlying premises. We may be aware or unaware of the explicit forms of those premises, but there is no doubt that we have them. A good tree produces good fruit and a bad tree produces bad fruit (Mt 7:17). Sound premises, roots, produce sound conclusions (provided the rest of the reasoning process is correct) and faulty premises produce faulty conclusions. Some of our problems in the area of celibate friendships are the presuppositions. It is no doubt worthy of note that not a few of these presuppositions are departures from Catholic teaching. I shall mention here several of these erroneous premises. This is not the place to develop my observations at length. Anyone moderately versed in theology will recognize that with some of them we are dealing with re-jections of the teachings of the Church. After we have cleared the air we shall sketch positively what a beautiful celibate friendship is like. First, the faulty premises. 1 .) "Close celibate relationships have no significant connection with the quality of prayer life." If a connection is supposed, little is made of it. The writer or speaker seems quite unaware of the primary orientation of vir-ginity to prayer, and he makes little of the tie-up between depth of prayer and the reality of friendship. The latter he seems to think ¯is simply a psychological matter which is quite accessible to human reason. 2.) "Genuine love between the sexes is common and easy to come by." We may note about this premise that psychologists themselves point out on purely natural grounds that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Even more to our purposes is the teaching of the New Testament 1~31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 that the new Christic love is naturally impossible, not simply rare. Only if we have been emptied of our maze of selfishnesses and converted by the eternal Word of God and born into his new life can we love others sincerely (1 P 1:22-23). Popular discussions of celibate sexuality seem not to know this. This is a fatal error. 3.) "The religious vocation may be temporary, and hence dating may rightly lead to marriage." I have not seen one sound psychological or theological argument among the many produced in recent years to support the theory of temporary vocation. This is not the place to trace out the solid case for permanent vocation. It may suffice for our purposes simply to state that the Catholic Church all through her history has held that the vocation to the counsels is permanent. 4.) "Genital sexual activity in celibate life is not nece.ssarily repre-hensible." Hence, those who hold this premise feel masturbation, intimate touches between friends, perhaps even sexual intercourse are not always wrong. It may be sufficient to note about this position that most people find it shocking, and that it entails a rejection of a large portion of Catholic sexual morality. One wonders what founders and foundresses would have said about these thoughts of their spiritual children. 5.) "Marriage and celibacy are of equal effectiveness in freeing for the kingdom." This premise is a rejection of Jesus' and Paul's teaching (Lk 18:29-30; 1 Co 7:32-38), as exegetes who have no axe to grind readily point out. The premise is of course also a rejection of the teaching of the Council of Trent and that of Vatican Council II. 6.) "The religious woman should display her femininity, or, as one writer put it, she should look 'sexy' " (in some sense he did not define). Only one who is innocent of real life (what, for example, many men are likely to think and say of this type of "virgin"), would make this sort of statement. One may wonder here, too, what our best examples of deepest feminine beauty would think of this idea: Agnes, Agatha~ Catherine of Siena. Teresa of Avila, Maria Goretti and a host of others. 7.) ,"Almost any friendship between a celibate man and woman is to be viewed as similar to those between saints." Merely to advert to the sen-tence is to see how untrue it is. No comment is needed. Signs of Genuine Friendship Even the most uncommitted scholar, well informed in the area of saints and canonization processes, will agree that the Church does not place her seal of approval on any celibate friendship. This undebatable fact suggests that there are significant differences between the holy and the unholy re-lationship. One may, if he wishes, introduce a third category, the "spiri-tually neutral" friendship, i.e., one in which there is no obviously sinful activity and yet in it no one would be inclined to consider either party especially saintly. It may be doubted in at least many cases whether such a "neutral friendship" would long remain merely neutral. It is likely that it Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality will either slowly dissolve or become more or less unholy. We humans are like that. I shall consider here the signs of the genuine friendship. If some readers are inclined to question these signs, I ask only one favor: read the lives of the saints and then judge whose position reflects their attitudes and prac-tice. All of us ordinary people are subject to error. In matters like this we are inclined either to exaggerate the gospel or to dilute it. And being sinners, ,most of us are far, more likely to dilute than to exaggerate. I trust that no one of us is so arrogant as to suppose that he knows better than the saints how the gospel is to be lived in concrete life. Their lives have the authentic seal of the Church upon them and ours do not. This is no slight difference. We may take it as a general norm that a genuine friendship is immersed in God, honestly immersed in him. It is a living of the universal Pauline principle that whatever we do, eating, drinking or anything else, we do to the glory of God (1 Co 10:31). This is easy to say in the morning offering but it is"not easy to live. Nevertheless I am supposing here that celibate friend-ship is a love of the Holy Spirit and as such is immersed in Jesus' love for all men and women. In a sense it is a participation in that love: "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus" (Jn 11:5). Every celibate is to love as he loved. In that way and in no other. Honesty here is not easy. The first sign of this honest authenticity is that God not only was, but remains the first concern of each party to the friendship. It is not siinply that God was once upon a time their prime concern when they engaged in spiritual direction ora common apostolic enterprise. Right now he is their chief love. They would do nothing, absolutely nothing to displease him or to divide their hearts. This implies that each person is a man or woman of deep prayer. They take contemplative prayer seriously and are at least growing in it. They are not content with vocal prayer alone, even the excellent vocal prayer of the Liturgy, of the Hours. We can see why this sign is crucial when we recall the context of celibacy we considered above. Religious and priests who do not really understand their vocation and love it deeply are hardly capable of celibate friendship. This may be a funda-mental reason why some of the writing and speaking on this subject is so defective: it lacks roots and orientation. The second sign is a growing commitment to the celibate gift. God is a God of fidelity and he expects fidelity in us. The celibate charism is given permanently, not for a few years. Both the charism and a genuine friendship are gifts of the one Holy Spirit. He does not contradict himself. He who gives the permanent gift of celibacy does not then turn around0and chip away at it in a relationship between possessors of the gift. Hence if a priest and/or religious begin seriously to consider a dispensation from vows and possible marriage, the love is no longer a love of the Holy Spirit. The spiritual life is one integrated whole. It hangs together. A beautiful friend-ship strengthens chastity, perfect chastity. It prompts each party to want the celibate dedication more strongly and to be entirely faithful to it. 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 The third sign is non-exclusiveness, non-possessiveness. It is true that the universal love of the virgin does not mean that she (he) does not love individual persons. No one is to love others only as a kind of global mass. Like all others the celibate is to love unique individuals, but unlike the married he loves without exclusiveness. Marital love is possessive, but celibate love is not. Marital love as marital centers on one person and one alone, even though the married are to love others with a general love. Celibate love as celibate is universal, and a deep friendship with one in-dividual does not erase celibate universality. This is why a Teresa of Avila would be happy to know that Jerome Gratian has another deep, close friend. She does not love him possessively, exclusively. A religious or priest who resents another close friend lacks something of the love of the Holy Spirit. Our next sign is closely allied to the previous one. Genuine friendship promotes universal warmth. Not only is there no exclusivity or posses-siveness, but each party finds that he goes out more warmly to all people. Cordiality, warmth, helpfulness is not reserved to one's friend. This person lives the Pauline admonition to the Romans, "treat everyone with equal kindness" (Rm 12:16). Friends ought not to assume easily that they are living this admonition. It takes a great deal of detachment, self-emptying, to go out as warmly to others as to a special friend. We may recall that 1 P 1:22-23 taught that authentic love in community requires a conversion. And we ought not too easily suppose we have been thoroughly converted. Afinal sign is that in authentic celibate friendship the frequency and length of visits are limited. I shall not cite quantitative limits, but I may say that a man or woman of prayer knows instinctively what is too much in the area of time spent together and what is too much in the area of signs of affection. Again one need only think of the saints. Normal men and women who spend too much time together or are too demonstrative in their af-fection soon have a chastity problem. The Need-Relationship Experience indicates that when many young religious find themselves close to another person they quite automatically consider the closeness to be love. This is especially true of young women. When before too many months or years pass the closeness slowly vanishes, they are not only surprised, but sometimes crushed. Many of these relationships are nothing more than need relationships. One individual finds another to be attractive, interested, concerned. And perhaps the other finds the first to be such also. Then one or both find that the other answers real needs for attention, security, warmth, sharing of problems, pains, aspirations. They are close ¯ because needs are being met. This need-relationship is not necessarily bad. But it is not yet love. Love does not dissipate in time. A mere need-friendship does dissipate when the need disappears or is met by another person. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / We annot emphasize too strongly what we noted above as the opinion of psychologists, namely, that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Need-closeness is not rare. Love is. Real love demands I. conversion, being born of the word of the everlasting God. This is why ¯ genmne celibate friendship happens only when deepening prayer happens. This islanother reason, too, why some recent writings on celibate sexuality are so superficial and consequently misleading. / Implications //We are now prepared to suggest implications that flow from our dis-cUssion. of context, premises and signs. Some religious may well be sur- Jprised that I feel it necessary to indicate these implications so plainly. While others who are well aware of our situation may be saddened, they will not be surprised. Our first consequence is that there is no such thing as a valid "third way," namely some sort of combination of celibacy and marriage, that is, physical closeness and intimacy without marital commitment. It should be said, of course, that what has been meant by the third way is itself a fuzzy spectrum of relationships all the way from dubious friendships to uncom-mitted sexual intercourse. And, it may be noted, this spectrum of rela-tionships has itg defenders from one end of it to the other. Why do I say that there is no such thing as a third way? There are two clear vocations on this score, marriage and celibacy/virginity. A third, marital-virginity, is an illusion. The whole twenty-century history of Christian virginity has seen deep friendships and profound love, but the Church has never set her stamp of approval on a third way. A least acquaintance with the saints makes this clear. Further, one need only review all that has been said thus far in this article. None of it remotely suggests a third way. Our second implication concerns dating. I have found that a religious and a priest who go out to dinner socially together (or share some other recreation) are likely to object to calling the engagement a date. I am not at this point overly concerned about the semantics of the matter, but I may note that these people for some odd reason resist terminology commonly accepted in our day. Almost everyone calls this kind of outing between two unmarried people a date. Whatever the name, this practice has its ardent defenders. It is not simply something done through mistaken judgment and then regretted, That it often ends up in marriage is not surprising. (And that this is a normal, good consequence is also defended.) What is wrong about all this? A number of things. First, the celibate charism is a permanent gift. One who has accepted the gift through vow is to honor his commitment. Vows are to be k~pt. The celibate may not marry, and he ought not to put himself in circumstanc'es that normally lead to marriage. If one responds by thinking or saying, "I have no intention to marry and there is no danger in our dating," I would answer that if the two ~142 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 persons are normal and persist in their relationship they are going to have a chastity problem. If they are not normal, they already have a problem. Then there is the question of scandal. One writer, admitting that many people in our society are scandalized in seeing religious and priests dating, expiessed the hope that one day our fellow citizens would come to see that a man and a woman can go out together with some other purpose than an eventual genital relationship. To be more clear, I think he should have said that he hopes the ordinary man and woman of our day will come to see that a platonic friendship is a likely explanation~ of why a priest and sister may date. This hope is naive. Anyone familiar with our sex-saturated world recognizes that this "likely explanation" is becoming more and more re-mote. I have met aremarkable woolliness of thought on this score of scandal. A sister will maintain that if people see anything wrong in her going out to dinner with a man, that is their problem, not hers. They must, she thinks, have unchaste minds to think of anything else of a platonic or merely business relationship. This view is innocent of reality in two. ways. The first innocence regards the types of scandal~. There is such a thing as pharisaical scandal, namely, that which people take when there is no least reasonable basis for it. This kind we may disregard. The other is what we usually mean, namely, when our action is such that in the normal understanding of.people there is basis for seeing something amiss in it. This kind we may not disregard. And this leads us to the second innocence in this woolly view. The person who holds it seems unaware that in our contemporary society a man and woman who.go out together are ordinarily viewed as either a) married, b) thinking of possible marriage remotely or proximately with this person or some other or c) doing something together but only as a part of a genital sexual relationship. It is. true that many people would admit that the two may have only a platonic interest in each other, but that is not the likely understanding of why they date. Now if th, ese people are scandalized when they see two consecrated celibates dating, their scandal is not pharisaical, that is, without solid basis in normal society. They ought not to judge that the two have sinned or plan to, but they are not wrong in think!ng what I have expressed in the above (a), (b), (c) sentence. It is important to notice about this scandal matter that people need not be sure that there is sexual sin between dating religious. Scandal is given if suspicions are aroused through a normal understanding that there may indeed be something amiss. The work of priests and religious for the king-dom is seriously undermined if people begin to think they are leading double lives, posing public!y as celibates and privately living as married or some-thing approaching this. The Church is severely damaged by suspicions like these. Priests and religious have no right to furnish a basis for them. We may be reminded of the splendid example of St. Paul. He refused :to scandalize "the weak" (i.e., those with erroneous consciences about eating Celibate Friendship." llluMon and Reality food offered to idols) even though what he was doing was perfectly per-missible[ He does not callously say "that is their problem." Rather he remarkslthat Christ died'for this weak brother and Paul will never cause his ruin. "That is why," says the apostle, "since food can be the occasion of t my brother's downfall, I shall never eat meat again in case I am the cause of my br~other s downfall (1 Co 9:7-13)¯ Dedicated religious have this same sensitivity. In no way will they sow the seeds of suspicion in the minds of their bro~thers and sisters, whether the latter be weak or strong. Our ~inal implication bears on maturity, chronological and spiritual, in ~ts bearl.ng on the question of deep cehbate friendship. If one reviews what we havelsaid about the context and signs of a beautiful relationshihpe, will easily see" a problem: are young religious, priests, seminarians really de-veloped/ enough, psychologically and spiritually, to be capable of what we are talking' about? It goes without saying that no one can cite a mathematical norm oriage at which people are mature enough to enter upon more than a mere ne, ed-relationship. In any event young people should remember that ¯ a capacity for genuine love among all age groups is not common and they . ought not to be easily persuaded that they themselves are already so capa- . ble. Young people especially are prone to mere need-relationships which they m~stakenly interpret as love. I am not saying that the young cannot love genmnely. But I am saying that no one, young or old, can love w~thout hawng Been converted¯ And no one loves deeply w~thout deep conversion. Thislis why prayer is absolutely crucial to the whole question of celibate friendsliip.' Those who write and speak about this matter and pay scant ¯ I . attention to the prayer-context are s~mply bypassing the core ~ssue. Vt r-ginity f~r Christ has' depths of which psychology has not dreamed. That man or woman alone is capable of a deep friendship who is already deeply (or at least is growing in depth) in communion with the source of all love, the God who is love. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.~.B.T. and Carla Przybilla, O.S.F. Sister Mary Vincentia is Assistant Professor at the National Catholic School of Social Service; the Catholic University of America; Washington, DC 20064. Sister Carla is Executive Director of the National Religious Formation Conference; 1330 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.; Washington, DC 20005. The authors wish to acknowledge and thank Rev. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., for reviewing this article and for his helpful comments. The whole future of the Earth, as of religion, seems to me to depend on the awakening of our faith in the future. Teilhard de Chardin Today, with the growing consciousness of the personhood of woman and with the re-structuring of her roles in both society and in the Church, women religious are providing leadership in spearheading and developing new and exciting ministries designed to meet rapidly changing social needs. There appears to be a new perspective, based on a model of collaboration and interdependence, which captures both identity and purpose, while at the same time engaging in a dialogical process with the world. This vibrant movement, in response to the needs of people, and within the context of the charismatic beginnings of religious communities, is not only transforming the forms of ministry of women religious in the United States, but is also impacting on the orientation and style of preparation required for ministries of the future. The future however, is in the present. A futuristic view of ministry requires preparation for today's demands. We are living in a time of such 844 Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / !i45 accelerat ~d change that it is estimated that people will undergo retraining ~ . for occup, at~onal needs many times during a lifetime. Not only will many religious have to re-tool for today's work but a totally new orientation will be necess,ary to respond appropriately to ever-changing needs. Professional schools, i,n their socialization processes, are emphasizing education geared to the self-directed learner, preparing the adult learner for a major constant in our culture--social change. In the helping professions this means creat-ing a readiness to handle continuous and rapid change as well as skill in generating new models of helping. Incorporated within this orienting frame is the closely related concept of monitoring and assessing service effect¯ iveness. Has this trend fully impacted on religious communities, in their socialization processes and in preparation for second careers? Cer-tainly, it has influenced a number in their approaches to ministry. More still have to ~ confront this major dynamic influencing the mission of the Church in moder~n society. It vitally touches every area of "personpower": re-cru~ tment policies, qualifications needed for the various service modalities, the capacity to ~ntegrate the spiritual and rehg~ous dimensions m service, and the tra~mng modaht~es for new m~mstnes. What are the personal re-quiremedts necessary to meet new and changing situations? A look at the emergln.g~ forms of mlmstnes may provide some answers. As Rahner states, ttiese new models of service, similar to the secular professions, are concretelexpressions of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.~ The p~urpose' of this article is to examine the developing forms of min-istry of women religious and to consider their implications for the so-c~ ahzat~on processes, e.g. the formation programs of religious congrega-tions as ~well as for re-tooling for new and re-focused careers. An attempt also wiillbe made to provide an organizing schema, a conceptual frame-work, to,~ analyze the major components of these socialization processes within a [context of future needs. The data presented here were collected during the preliminary phase of ¯ a larger study which is underway on the new careers of women religious, related areas of role conflict, and coping styles utilized in conflict resolu-tion. 2 Thlis first phase, a survey of 367 religious congregations of women in the United States, sought to locate the population of religious in new works, that is, ~n works which were new to their congregations.3 Communities ~Karl Rahner. "'Practical Theology and Social Work in the Church," Theological Inves-tigations, ~/ol. 10, translated by David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), pp. 267-68. I , 2This study is being conducted by Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. with the Nationa~ Religious Formation Conference, Washington, D.C. Sister Mary Vincentia developed the research design and Stster Carla processed the data for this preliminary phase. The article was written by the former and the final version was completed jointly. 3The istin~ of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, which included major supe-riors of 367icongregations, was used for the mailing. The time-frame of the survey was summer to fall, 1976. 1~46 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 were asked, in an open-ended format, to indicate the new ministry of each sister. There was a 94.60% rate of response which would seem to indicate, along with the many supportive statements, a high level of interest among religious communities in this area. A total of 5,892 religious was reported by their communities to be engaged in new works. ¯ Although this survey was not intended to be an exhaustive study, it was rich in information on developing works among sisters. The data, therefore, were analyzed and classified into broad categories of ministry. These findings would seem to have value in that they provide an empirical base, suggesting future directions and rough indicators for some future projec-tions. New ministries, as used here,, refer to forms which were new to religious communities. In considering the findings, it is important to note that a number of communities indicated that they have no new works, that their congregations have always been involved in what many consider new directions. The non-r~spondent group may also be composed of those who have consistently been involved in what is considered new by religious today. For example, in a recent study on sister social workers profession-ally educated in the United States during the period 1962 to 1972, forty-six sisters or the largest, number trained in any religious community were members of the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity.4 None of these, however, are reflected.in the findings discussed here since social work is traditional apostolate of this community. Similarly, the large num-ber of sisters in this community, and in a few others, in parish work is not represented in the data since, historically, these communities have been engaged in this type of work. New Forms of Ministry The proportion of women religious in the broad categories of ministry are shown in Table 1. This typology follows the familiar classification of works according to the fields of health, education, and welfare (here termed social ministry). Other emerging forms of ministry did not fit neatly into these general categories and, therefore, were presented separately. Parish work, for .example, which involves a plurality of ministries, crosses the categorical boundaries of health, education, and social ministry. A special category was constructed for the spiritual ministries which have been in-creasing over the past few years. They clearly represent a cluster of spiritual and religious functions (such as directed retreats and prayer movements) generally performed in Church-related structures rather than in exclusively non-ecclesial settings. Similarly, supportive Church-related 4Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, A Study ~of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker. Unpublished DSW dissertation, the Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C. 1974, p. 247. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 1t47 ministries are surfacing more explicitly and distinctly associated with some level of Church structure or Church work. An example would be the role of the diocesan consultant. These categories, particularly, give striking evidence of the shifting roles of women in the Church. Table 1 Proportion of Women Religious in New Forms of Ministries According to the Type of Ministry* Religious Type of Ministry No. % Health Ministry I 112 18.87 Education Ministry 1334 22.64 Social Ministry 1912 32.45 Parish Ministry ' 797 13.53 Supportive Church-related Ministries 384 6.52 Spiritual Ministry 266 4.5 I Other 87 1.48 5892 100.00 *Refers to forms of ministries which were new to religious congregations of women at the time of the survey. As can be seen, the social ministries represent the largest group of services provided by women religious among these new forms. Almost one-third of the survey population were engaged in a form of social ministry, 10% more than those in education and close to 15% more than those involved in the health field. An interesting piece 6f data was the small number of sisters actually engaged in such works as business, clerical work, and sales in strictly non-ecclesial setti.ngs. Although a large number of others worked in non-sectarian structures, such as hospitals, they were most frequently ehgaged in pastoral work in the human service fields. The dominant theme which ran through the findings was se~r, vice, often with a highly skilled and profes-sional orientation, within a framework of ministry or mission. From the comments of some communities, form of service and perspective of min-istry were clearly within the context of their charismatic beginnings. The categories in Table 1 will be elaborated more fully in the discussion that follows. New Forms of Health Ministry The largest single category in the health field was pastoral care in Cath-olic institutions--hospitals, .nursing homes, or other group facilities. As Table 2 illustrates, a forceful trend is noted when pastoral care in Catholic settings is combined with pastoral care in non-Church related settings: almost one-half of the new forms of health ministries are in the field of pastoral care. Interestingly, too, more than one-fourth of the sisters in new health ministries are providing nursing or allied medical services in public 1~41~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 or private institutions not sponsored by the Church. Thus, almost 45% of the sisters included in the survey in the health field offer services in other than Catholic institutions. This proportion is even higher when combined with non-Church related community services. Table 2 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Health Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Community-based Health Care (nursing and related allied 202 18.17 services) Health Care in Non-Church-related Institutions* 289 25.99 Pastoral Ministry in Catholic Institutions* 363 32.64 Pastoral Ministry in Non-Church-related Institutions 192 17.27 Other (Physicians, dentists, other specialists/consultants) 66 5.93 Total 1112 100.00 *Refers to hospitals, nursing homes, and the larger group facilities. As would be expected;.a large proportion, or almost 20% are in in-novative community and neighborhood-based health programs (such as public health, visiting nurses, and outreach clinics, both in Catholic and non-Church related settings). This group consists largely of nurses and allied professionals. Interestingly, this trend somewhat parallels that in social work although there was a sharper reversal from institutional to community settings in that field. Close to two-thirds of the sister social workers were in institutional work prior to Vatican II in contrast to over two-thirds in community-based programs after Vatican II: No doubt this trend in the hea!th field would be greater if more Church-related commu-nity- based programs were available within Catholic structures as they are in social work, e.g. Catholic Charities agencies and other neighborhood and parish-based social service and social action programs. Also, it was inter-esting that close to 85% of the population studied provided services within Church structures and only 6% saw services in the public sector as an important future role of the sister social worker. Leadership within the framework of the Church, as long as these structures were available and viable for effective and relevant service, was viewed as a dominant future role. Close to sixteen were physicians or dentists; when combined with psy-chiatrists (see Table 4), we can see a more visible trend in the medical ministries. A small number were speech and music therapists. 5Joseph, op. cit. pp. 102, 174. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View 1149 New Forms of Education Ministries More than one-fifth of the religious in the survey population continued in new and specialized forms of the education ministry. This is not sur-prising since the majority of religious have professional training in this field and many communities hold education as integral to their mission. Most interestingly, however, were the innovative and creative forms taking shape. As reflected in Table 3, close to 40% are specializing in religious education, which would seem to be an important role for the religious of the future. Almost one-third teach in schools in the inner city and urban areas, reflecting the traditional concern of communities for the poor and culturally deprived. Close to one-fifth were in a variety of specialized forms of education to the physically and emotionally handicapped, school drop-outs, minority and bilingual groups, and a range of adult education pro-grams. Table 3 Women Religioas Engaged in Forms of Edncation Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Campus Ministry 86 6.45 Communications 67 5.02 Library Work 56 4.20 Religious Education 530 39.73 Teaching in Seminaries and Theologates 25 1.87 Specialized Forms of Instruction 252 18.89 Inner City Teaching 318 23.84 Total 1334 100.00 A developing trend in communications was discernible, revealing some interesting works. Thirteen sisters were involved in very technical work with the media, TV and radio, while fifty-four sisters worked with Catholic and secular newspapers/periodicals in writing, illustrating, and publishing. ¯ New Forms of Social Ministry It has been made forcefully clear in recent years, by both the magis-terium and the Council, that the social ministries are essential aspects of the Mission of the Church.~ Perhaps the most significant trends in new min-istries are, in this area, not unrelated to the directions in society and de-velopments in the Church. This field, which reflected the largest number of new forms, has been defined variously in the literature. Very broadly, it ~Eugene A. Mainelli. "'The Parish Community Becoming: Theological Reflections," Social Thought, i (Fall. 1975). p. 15. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 is viewed as comprising health, education, and welfare. Most specifically, as used here, it includes those activities which focus primarily on the social dimension of human services: the response to socio-personal needs as well as social justice and advocacy efforts directed toward humanizing and transforming societal structures,r As Table "4 shows, the largest proportion of sisters engaged in social ministries, over one-third, were in social work. These data are consistent with Joseph's findings: as many sisters were professionally trained, in social work from 1970 to 1972, inclusive, as were in the previous decade,s It is not surprising that religious would select this field as it call for skills in working with both' personal and social needs. With the two-fold emphasis today on the person and impacting social systems, it provides opportunity for both service and social action. The sisters in this survey were social workers in school and hospital settings as well as in community-neighborhood pro-grams which reflected reaching out to others in a variety of ways. More than one-half were in Catholic Charities agencies, in both traditional family and child care services, e.g. family counseling, foster care and adoption ser-vices, and in community organization work, crisis intervention, and other forms of outreach. More than 30% of the religious in social ministries worked with minority groups and rural poverty programs, evidencing out-reach as well as justice efforts. Table 4 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Social Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Prison, Probation, Police Work 99 5.18 Social Justice Work 168 8.79 Social Work 651 34.05 Psychiatric, Psychological. Therapeutic Work 82 4.29 Work with Minority Groups 376 19.67 Rural Poverty Work 204 10.67 Alcoholism and Drug Addiction 116 6.07 Youth Work 114 5.96 Day Care Programs 28 1.46 Group Homes and Specialized Care Facilities 32 1.67 Other 42 2.19 Total i912 100.00 Although many in the above categories were actively engaged in social justice, advocacy, and social action--as related to the groups served-- 7Cedric W. Tilberg. "'The Social Ministry of the Congregation," Lutheran Social Welfare Quarterly, Vi (December, 1966), p. 8. 8Joseph, op. cit., p. 90. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View almost 10% of the sisters ,wer~ involved exclusively in these activities. Most of these sisters worked in social justice centers or on special commissions directed to justice and peace. Eighteen, however, were in political min-istries or appointed to government positions at state or local levels, while twenty-three were lawyers, aids, or legal advisors to the poor. A number organized legislative networks to promote grassroots leadership and create political power. Sixty-six worked in halfway houses for alcoholics or parolees or in group homes for pre-delinquent or delinquent youth. Another thirty-two served in homes for the mentally or physically handicapped or the emotionally disturbed. Slightly over 5% of the sisters worked with prisoners/parolees and their families, did probation work, or were on the police force, a relatively new area of ministry and one rich in service potential. The "'other" category consisted of those engaged in natural family planning, Birthright, housing projects, and shop~ for the poor. The liberation of the oppressed, as a pivotal and actigie concern of the Social Mission of the contemporary Church, is vividly clear in these data. Neff Forms of Church-Related Ministry Table 5 shows that almost one-half of the religious working in supportive Church-related works were specialists in the various fields of ministry, e.g. education and health, who acted as consultants to diocesan programs. More than one-third held offices in Church organizations at national and inter-national levels, utilizing the competencies of religious in important lead-ership roles. Three sisters were canon lawyers, twenty-three were identified as vicars for religious, and twelve were in tribunal work, no doubt a significant future indicator for the role of the ecclesial woman, These data represent a growing trend for women to assume leadership positions at all levels in the Church. Table 5 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Church-Related Ministries New to Their Congregations Ministries National and International Offices in Church Organizations Vicars for Religious and Canon Lawyers Marriage Tribunal Work Diocesan Consultants/Specialists Ecumenical Consultants Total Religious No. % 126 32.8 I 36 9.38 12 3.12 189 49.22 21 5.47 384 100.00 Parish Ministry There is a:remarkable movement in the Church toward parish ministry, 1~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 especially among women religious, markedly illustrated in these data.~ The parish may be viewed as the Church in mission; it is here that the Church's mission is concretized. Rahner, in discussing the parish, states: ¯ . . the Church will make its impact as a present reality there where the presence of Christ is made real . Here the Christian of tomorrow will come to realize the true nature of the Church. Of course such a community, which feels itself to be the concrete realization of the Church as achieved through word and sacrament, will be conscious of being united to all other communities which likewise are the same Church . "~ It is in the parish-community that the Christian of the future will experience the Church in word and sacrament. The parish was the largest single category of ministry; 797 sisters were reported as involved in some aspect of parish work. The Parish was actually the only single category in the broad classification of ministries (see Table /), since the data did not lend itself to clearly differentiate among the various forms of parish work. A number, however, did indicate that they were parish associates, assistant pastors, parish workers, home visitors, social ministers, pastoral assistants, eucharistic ministers, parish spiritual directors, and parish team ministers, evidencing the plurality of forms at this level and supporting the need for the team approach. It may also be an index to the role ambiguity often experienced by parish workers and, fur-thermore, may indicate the need for clearer role definitions. Presnail dis-cussed this, detailing the range of roles identified with the parish worker and urging specialization within a framework of the plurality of ministries and personal charisms, competencies, and training. He points to the role am-biguity experienced by the religious educator until the role became more specialized and the boundaries more circumscribed.1~ In recent years, a number of Catholic Charities agencies across the country have reached out to parishes to facilitate social ministries at this level. According to a study that is underway, 206 religious are involved in some way in these parish social ministries, either directly as parish staff affiliated with the agency or as parish workers, not administratively related to the agency but receiving consultation from agency staff.t2 This upsurge in parish ministry is consistent with the findings of Jo-seph. 13 Comparative data, pre- and post-Vatican 1I, on the major apos- ~Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "'Christian Social Action," Careers in the Christian Ministry (Washington. D.C.: Consortium Press. 1976), p, 118. ~UKarl Rabner, -The New Image of the Church." Theological Investigations, Vol. X (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973). p. 11. ~Gregory Presnail, "Guidelines for a Parish Worker," Sisters Today (November, 1971), pp. 416-21. ~zSister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. and Sister Ann Patrick Conrad, M.S.B.T., National Trends in Parish Social Ministry: A Study of Parish Programs Affiliated With Catholic Char-ities Agencies, in process. ~ZJoseph, A Study of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker, p. 241. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 853 tolates of 108 religious communities, were obtained. The most dramatic change was in parish work. The number ~f religious congregations engaged in parish work at this time increased from 17.35% to 44.90%, close to a 30% oost-Vatican increase. Thus, we can expect---on the basis of these data, a continued upswing in parish work with a greater differentiation among ministry roles and a continued use and refinement of the team approach. The challenge remains to identify and elaborate the emerging patterns of parish ministry. The Spiritual Ministries Spiritual ministries, close to 5% of the new ministries, represented an emerging field in which the religio-spiritual dimension is the primary focus. These are closely related to pastoral ministry, but differ in that generally thry' are performed within church structures rather than in a setting in which one of the helping professions is the host-profession such as the hospital or the social agency. These ministries consisted largely of houses of prayer, retreat work---especially directed retreats, and prayer move-ments. Summary A two-pronged trend is reflected vividly in these data: concern with religious/spiritual aspects of the person (as evidenced in pastoral care, religious education and the directly spiritual ministries) and with the social dimension of human need (noted in the large number of religious engaged in the social ministries). Parish work may be viewed as reflecting both trends as the parish is concerned with socio-religious needs of persons through its developing approaches or team ministries. Deepening insight into the Pauline concept of the plurality of ministries is illustrated remark-ably in the growth in ministries at this level, particularly among women religious. The emphasis on social need was not only reflected in the increase in social ministries but also in the service modalities and organizational patterns in the health and education fields. The upswing in parish work, social work, pastoral care in health settings, and religious educationhin that order--would seem to forecast that these will be important future roles of women religious. A Conceptual Framework for the Study of Formation Programs The literature on adult socialization~4 is rich in its implications for for- ~4Socialization is the process by which one learns the ways of a given group. Often, it is defined as role learning. In adulthood, it refers to training for life or occupational roles. Studies have been done on socialization processes in such professions as nursing and medicine. No published research has been located by the authors on preparation for the role of the woman religious. I]54 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 mation programs in religious communities and provides tools for critical examination and assessment. The work of Brim and Wheeler is particularly useful as it identifies core variables which influence socialization out-comes.~ 5 It suggests a broad conceptual model to study the essential com-ponents of formation and aids in raising questions about current structural patterns, Central concepts are: the recruit or socializee: the candidate; the socializing agency: the religious community; the socializing agent: .for-mation personnel; and, the socialization process: the process of formation. The importance of taking another look at formation programs becomes obvious not only in considering the trends in ministry but in recent work-shop experiences of the National Religious Formation Conference. During workshop meetings, both men and women religious were asked to define the qualities needed for the future religious. Most frequently projected characteristics were: (1)self-direction; (2) the willingness to search, risk, and deal with uncertainty; (3) a deepening spiritual life; (4) a sense of rootedness in the charism of the institute;and, (5) a global mission concern. These characteristics and the new ministries suggest the need for an orienting philosophy of learning geared to the adult learner. Cartwell, in an excellent article on current educational models in formation programs, clearly identifies the need for an integrated cognitive-experiential-devel-opmental approach appropriate to today's social and cultural needs.~6 The proposed approach to learning is the adult learning model, androgogy, which prepares the person for self-direction and on-gbing learning. This approach is grounded in active participation, mutual sharing, and a readiness to learn. It recognizes not only the potential of the recruit but also the learned skills and past experiences which are brought to the new learn-ing situation.~r ~ With the trend awayJfrom institutional forms of ministry to community and parish-based work, many religious are moving from highly structured settings to natural ecological settings which are often ambiguous and lack-ing in role clarity. Such settings require that structures not only be created but implemented effectively and that roles be defined and continuously reclarified. Services at these levels demand creative action and continued innovation. Collaborative team approaches are required, calling for a high degree of skill in interpersonal communication as well as in coping with conflictuai role demands. Competency and evaluation (a trend in our so- 15Orville G. Brim and Stanton Wheeler, Socialization After Childhood (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966). ~6Peter W. Cartwell, O.F.M., "Formation--Whither or Whether," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XXXll (September, 1973), p. 1050. ~rMalcolm Knowles, The Adult Learner: Neglected Species (Houston: Gulf Publishing Com-pany, 1973). Preparation ,for New Ministries: A Futuristic View ciety where resources and commodities are scarce) will be essential to assess program effectiveness. Increasingly, then, ministry will require self-directed persons, ready to generate new service modalities, negotiate role demands, and collaborate with others in attempting to find solutions to complex problems. The Recruit-Candidate Very often young people today have broad experiences. Frequently, they are well traveled and view such experiences as important to their on-going development. Generally, those who enter the helping professions have a high degree of commitment to serve the needs of others. Those who would enter a religious community seek to deepen their value-orientation and share similar values with others in community. Many have been ex- :posed to an adult learning style, basically experiential, moving from the realm of the empirical and from skill in doing to the level of abstraction and conceptualization. They freely challenge ideas and existing structures, ex-pecting an openness of response and, themselves, inviting feedback. Where opeaness is absent, confrontation is often heightened. They seek an ex-panding personal development and view some contemporary religious structures as constricting growth potential. The questionmust be raised: Can present structures of many formation programs attract, support, and enhance the goals of these young women? In view of the socialization outcomes required fo~ the new ministries, what personal qualifications are needed in the recruit at entrance?~Selection and socialization processes obviously interact. Etzione states that where both are high, socialization should be effective.18 Space does not permit further discussion of the prospective candidate. It seems sufficient here to raise these basic questions. The Structure Granting the developmental-experiential nature of adult learning, one must consider the environmental or structural conditions which foster it. Organizational arrangements of formation programs will require on-going examination in the light of trends in ministries and related learning needs. A basic assumption of the androgogical model implies change in the self-concept moving from one of dependence, to increasing self-direction.19 When operationalized in structures, this assumption is reflected in mutual trust and collaboration, flexibility, freedom to express differences, and active participation in learning. These structures should be geared to fa- ~SAmitai Etzione, Complex Organizations (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961). ~Knowles, op. cit., p. 45. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 cilitate growth and provide experiential as well as didactic learning oppor-tunities, a direction underway in many communities. Self-concept theory and research have demonstrated the impact of ref-erence groups on the self-concept of the person. Where a person constantly receives negative images, a negative concept of self may develop. In the past religious structures emphasized negative feedback, often forming negative self-concepts in religious. Current structures must be realistic, emphasizing positive as well as constructive negative feedback. Such an orientation contributes to a realistic self-concept and confidence in both self-direction and leadership skills. The Socializing Agent Fundamentally, formation personnel must be comfortable with the self-directed contemporary religious. Question must be raised as to appropriate preparation for formation team members. The predominant emphasis has been largely theological while also drawing from the humanistic psychol-ogies. Since the new ministries require an on-going diaiogical process with the world, it would seem that a broadened training would be required drawing from the social sciences and the secular professions. This would highlight the environment, the interaction between the person and the so-cial context--in this situation, the community. The environmental aspects and their influences on the person need to be emphasized. The self is in constant interaction with social structures, both within and outside the community. Formation personnel need to be more aware of the impact of structures on the person in community and how the person can impact on structure, as a basis for mutual and on-going growth and change. The Process The process of socialization, which seeks to identify how a specific role is internalized, has been studied in a number of professions,z° Greater attention needs to be given to this process in formation programs. The work of Kinnane and Preister suggests that the ultimate direction of socialization should be characterized by a movement from dependence and indepen-dence to interdependence; the development from self-centered behavior to social behavior; growth in maturity; and, the increasing integration of re-ligio- spiritual values in ministry.2t Z°Howard Becker, et ~il., eds., Institutions and the Person (Chicago: Aldine Publishers, 1968). ZlJohn F. Kinnane, Career Development for Priests and Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA, 1970); Steven Preister, "The Professional Socialization of the Seminarian into the Career of Priesthood." Unpublished paper, Catholic University of America, 1976. PreParation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View The formation process involves both formal and informal components. Basically, the formal process occurs in sequential phases, clearly marked by rites of passage or movement from affiliate or candidacy status to the position of novice or of commitment. Informal processes, however, operate and may be identified. It has been observed in one community that religious often proceed from the initial stage with some role ambiguities, to a positive identification with community (often at the beginning of the novitiate) to a negative identification, followed by a more realistic conceptma stage of interdependence in community and the beginning of internalized commit-ment (generally toward the end of the novitiate),z2 Although this was found to be th~ usual process, individual variations in development and regression may occur throughout the process. It does suggest, however, a process of integration and internalization which continues in all adult life. Young religious need to be continuously confronted throughout this process to recognize both positive and negative aspects of the religious community and consider within this context where they are, personally, at a given time as they develop a realistic view of the community and seek to serve within its framework of ministry, they have already begun to internalize their religious commitment. To be fixated in either a positive or a negative phase may well reflect a question of personal commitment within this particular life style. With the complexities of living in society today and the greater demands in ministry, it seems that more attention must be given to the processes of initial and on-going formation. Conclusion In conclusion, religious of the future are now, in fact defining them-selves. This paper has presented indicators for the future role of women religious based on ministries which were identified as new to their con-gregations. An orienting conceptual model was formulated to examine ex-isting struciures and processes of formation programs as well as to raise questions as to how these programs are preparing religious for future roles in ministry. A further question, however, needs to be asked. Although religious communities are intellectually endorsing new ministries, are affective sup-port structures being provided for these newly developing works? These survey findings therefore, compel communities not only to address their newly developing forms of ministry but also to consider the support sys-tems provided for these new directions. 22Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "S~cialization in a Religious Community." Un-published paper, Catholic University of America, 1974. This paper was prepared in con-junction with research on the socialization process of one community. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" Anne Marie Harnett, S.N.J.M. Sister Anne Marie received permission for a "contemplative sabbatical" last year, during which time she resided with, and lived the life of several contemplative communities. Presently she is doing graduate studies in theology and resides at 519 Varnum St., N.W.; Washington, DC 20011. The poet's labor is to struggle with the meaninglessness and silence of the world until he can force it to mean, until he can make the silence answer and the non-being be. It is a labor which undertakes to "know" the world not by exegesis or demonstration or proofs but directly, as a man knows apple in the mouth.1 When I read this paragraph recently, I was excited. It seemed to express what I have been trying to do this year during a "contemplative sabbat-ical." Aboht a y.ear ago, I asked for the opportunity for an extended ex-perience oUsolitude because of a somewhat hazy intuition 'that such an orientation was at the source of any ministry for justice (a large interest of mine) and it was itself a powerful witness to the consumer ~ociety in which we live. ~' I address these reflections particularly to those men and women who" might also feel called to an experience of solitude--to encourage them. I speak to contemplative communities--to thank them for their hospitality to me when I needed to be a "temporary monk." I hope that these few thoughts will encourage contemplative groups of women especially to con-sider this kind of hospitality as a service to the Church. Since September I have been struggling with the meaninglessness and silence--sometimes catching glimpses of the answer and the being--in a seemingly endless game of hide and seek. I have let the various elements of the experience speak to me, wondering at times what all this has to do 1Archibald MacLeish, Poetry and Experience (Boston, 1961), pp. 8-9, in The Courage to Create by Rollo May (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 89. 858 Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 859 with ordinary living, let alone with problems of violence, poverty, injustice, the needs and :,:~oblems of people today. Sometimes I have felt anxious and frustrated: c:,.cu joy-filled, occasionally guilty, generally at peace, "r,. year has been. a tapestry. It has provided me with a variety of experiences resulting in changed attitudes and new and keener aware-nesses. Many of the designs iffthis tapestry have not yet been woven, and like the underside of a tapestry, the pattern is not readily visible to me. Because I am always wary of instant experts, of people who spend a few weeks in a foreign country and then lecture or write about the people and culture of that country, I hesitate to say a great deal even about the early part of my adventure in the "desert"; certainly I cannot yet write about my current "Carmelite phase." I would like however to share my reflections on the short experience I had in a Trappist monastery in Mistassini, Quebec. The monks'there have opened their choir to both men and women, and so I had the privilege of sharing fully in their prayer from Vigil at 3:30 A.M. until Compline at 7:30 P.M. Their Office is beautiful inits simplicity. I found that it not only satisfied 'my need.for beauty in worship but that it completed my own prayer; whatever the mood or message of my prayer might have been. The Hours became~for me a stream into which I could jump at various times of the day, a stream which carried: along with it all my hopes, as-pirations and activities. Because chanting Office at 3:30 A.M. is so foreign to most of us, I would like to say a little abotlt Vigil. It was never easy; seldom .was it bright With praise or, comforting in sorrow or pain. It was to me what its name suggests: watching and waiting. I often thought all of this would be absurd if God did not exist, if he were not God with us and for usl Often too I would think of and so pray for other people who-were up for other reasons: those on night shifts, parents with sick children, street people, those with no bed to go to. At other times I would think of people close to me, some of them watching and waiting in a way only they could know; other~ now fully enjoying him for whom we in that church were keeping vigil. Often too I would just manage to be there. Always I knew that all the stars were laughing at our wonder. I became more keenly aware of the apostolic dimension of prayer, both liturgical and personal, knowing that my prayer and that of the monks and other guests extended far beyond the confines of that church. This is so because of the nature of liturgical prayer, because of the eucharist and our faith in its cosmic dimensions~, but also because of what happens in prayer. The experience of a deep need of liberation and healing, the experience of both the presence and the apparent absence of God, and of his absolute fidelity, the relationship of this prayer to daily life with its demands, calls, and responses--all this is a microcosm of the world today with its own great need for liberation and healing, and its search for God whom so many have dismissed or do not know. ~160 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 This experience in prayer brought me new attitudes toward solitude. For some time I had found periods apart renewing and increasingly nec-essary to my well-being. So when I went to Mistassini I considered it under this primarily physical or geographical aspect. Now, while I realize the necessity and appreciate the value of periods of physical solitude, I have come to think of it more as "an enclosure" I carry around with me. It is an inner attitude in line with the thought of Thomas Merton expressed in Contemplation in a Worm of Action. As I understand it, he sees solitude as a probing for truth, first of all in oneself; it is the acceptance of one's identity and of one's lot as given by God. While probing for truth and forming convictions, one seeks the courage to live, to witness in accordance with these convictions. It involves making decisions, consonant with one's inner reality and in the light of God's truth and love.2 I became more aware of the fact that my search and probing is a pil-grimage. Like Abraham I have set forth in the desert hearing the call, "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). While my predominant mood as I set out on this pilgrimage was one of joy in God's presence, yet solitude sometimes brought me fear of the future, an angst fear. This reality I found also described by Thomas Merton: "The man who wants to deepen his existential awareness has to make a break with ordinary existence, and this break is costly. It cannot be made without anguish and suffering. It implies loneliness, and the disorientation of one who has to recognize that the old signposts don't show him his way, and that in fact he has to find the way by himself without a map.''3 Perhaps I will always have to live with this anguish because the old signposts are in fact gone, and the new ones are very hazy. Certainly they will never be as clear-cut and sharply defined as they were in the past. Very likely the way will never be clearly mapped out. Yet I have become more at home with my anxiety and at times even welcome it as an experience of my powerlessness, as a call to total de-pendence on God. Recently I found a passage in The Courage to Create by Rollo May which describes in psychological terms this aspect of solitude. The ex-perience of encounter, encounte¢ implying a deep commitment, always brings anxiety because of the shaking of the self-world relationship which occurs in the encounter. "Our sense of identity is threatened: the world is not as we experienced it before; and since self and world are always cor-related, we no longer are what we were before . The anxiety we feel is temporary rootlessness, disorientation; it is the anxiety of nothingness.''4 In mature creativity anxiety must be confronted if we are to experience joy. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Image Books, 1973), Chapter III, "The Identity Crisis," pp. 75-100. aIbid., p. 126. ~Ibid., p. 107. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 861 I can live with anxiety and anguish, confront them and experience joy because of my faith and trust in God, and because of the love relationship I experience with him. The anxiety is then transformed into resting in him. It' is living in that marvelous gap between what my faith sees and feels and what God knows and is actually accomplishing in me; between my desire to live as he wants me to live, to be the person he wants me to be, and the fulfillment of this desire. It is a living of the words of Isaiah, "See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the desert I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers" (Is 43:9). During the summer just before my sabbatical year I was a journalist at our general chapter which was one of reflection and discernment on our charism and our response to it in the world today. During the c.hapter our foundress was very much alive and present to us; she continued to be present to me during these weeks of solitude. As I reflected on my life as a woman religious and on hers, I saw that she had creative imagination'~ which she used in service to the Church. She consulted the signs of the times and, with eyes wide and in perfect freedom, said yes. This yes meant leaving a respectable and secure position, setting herself and her two com-panions up in an attic, opening a small school with no financial means, embarking on unknown seas in an as yet unfounded community. She said thisyes daily depending totally on God in faith and love. It seems to me that this is the kind of response to which God calls us today: the witness of a life--creative, integrated, with a willingness to risk, dedicated to the gospel. As I write these reflections in my room in the Bronx Carmel, I am looking at a little collection of prints tacked on my wall: La Misereuse accroupie (a woman crouching, possibly in prayer) by Picasso, Christ Mocked by Soldiers by Rouault, The Burghers of Calais and La Pensde by Rodin, the South Rose Window and Lancets from the Cathedral of Chartres. Beside them is the quote, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." The collection symbolizes the strands of life that have brought me here and the threads continually being woven into my solitude, my experience of God. The Christ who is mocked is the crouching woman, the attraction of La Pens~e, the glorious center of the rose window. He is the reason for loving the questions and for being patient with the incompleteness of the answers. He is somewhere in the agony, the stolid acceptance, the chains and the resistance symbolized by the Burghers of Calais. At the same time he is in the beauty and achievement of ihe ensemble. My encounter with this reality brings me back to labor and struggle with the meaningless, the contradictions and the paradoxes. Again I am knock-ing on silence, waiting for being; above all, I am living in hope. ~Leonardo Boff, author of Jesus-Christ Liberateur, says that imagination is the creativity to see humankind become better and richer than the present cultural environment. The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Elders Jeanne Schweickert, O.S.F. Sister Jeanne is Vice President of Ministry for the School Sisters of St. Francis. Her office is located at 1501 South Layton Blvd.; Milwaukee, Wl 53215. Over the past several years many old people have entered my life in new and powerful ways, the young old, the middle old, and the old old--and as they touched me I experienced the paradoxes of their lives: the hopeful expectations of some, the disillusionment of others; the longing for (he great past and the eager awaiting of death; the joyous celebration of life and the loneliness, fear and despair of day-after-day. It became more and more obvious that as the people I met approached old age, as they moved into retirement, they experienced traumatic mo-ments in their lives, moments that challenged their very personhood. Some time ago I decided to take council with some of the elderly sisters of my community. I invited them to get in touch with their own experience of retirement and share with me what they recalled happening inside them at that time. The following are a few of their comments: "Sometimes it feels like your personhood is diminished ." "I want to be seen first as a person, and then as a patient . " "Institutions make it difficult to be personal ." "You can't make decisions for yourself ." "I felt dethroned, becoming an observer rather than a participant . " "I was frightened of being a captive of the rocking chair and treated as a child kept busy with games and crafts . " "The real pain of not being active is that your opinion is never sought . " These are but a few of their comments; they are the more painful ones. 862 The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Eiders / 1~63 However all of these perspectives reinforced for me again the perception of retirement as a time of moving away from something that had meaning rather than moving toward something significant in life. In his "Preface to a Practical Theology of Aging" Don S. Browning emphasizes that we must challenge both the idea that a person is only of worth or contributing when he is gainfully employed and the idea that the last stages of life should be a time of irrelevant comfort and preadolescent indulgence. Al

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

Issue 61.4 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Identities Spirituality Community Living \ Profiling JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 Review for Rellgious hdp people respond aria bkfa thful ~ ° ~ to God's ~niversal call to holiness ~ by making available to t~em the ~piH~l legades that flow~om the'charisms of CathoUdeOnsecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone:314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \Veh site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See iuside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to COl)}, any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 contents 342 feature Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life Patricia Wittberg sc oudines the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past and describes the role of a person who would be responsible for catalyzing a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions today. 352 364 spirituality Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst George Aschenbrenner SJ describes four steps that are part of a discerning life and three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. Desert Spirituality Ernest E. Larkin OCarm examines the ancient traditions of desert spirituality and contemplative prayer and proposes ways to adapt them to our times. for l~eligious 375 community living Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report Barbara Zajac makes a sociological survey of sisters in one religious community to explore how they define and create "community." 395 Expert Practitioners of Union: Forming, Living, and Sustaining Community Joel Giallanza CSC reviews the complexities involved in defining or describing religious community and suggests strategies to form and live and sustain community. 407 profiling Merton and the Enneagram: The Ritual Enactment of His Myth Suzanne Zuercher OSB examines Thomas Merton from his journals, considering him as an enneagram 4, his true self more acknowledged over the years, then anguished over, and ultimately embraced. 419 Liberal or Conservative: Temperaments and Faith Edward Krasevac OP proposes that awareness of temperamental affinities for liberal/conservative positions can give us a greater and sometimes much-needed sensitivity to what others are saying and give us at least a partial understanding of why we b~lieve what we believe. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Departure 435 Book Reviews j~uly-Aug~tst 2002 prisms ~hen we say "We had an extraordinary time," for example, at a family reunion or at a church conference, we imply that the event was better than usual. The ordinary, by contrast, seems to be of negligible value. Ordinary means normal, hav-ing the implications of the usual routine. Often when we say that our time has been ordinary we signify that it has been just "more of the same." When the church makes use of the phrase ordi-nary time to describe a part of the liturgical year, we tend to .bring our everyday meaning to the phrase. We think of the routine of following one of the synoptic Gospel readings in weekday and in Sunday Eucharists. Church ordinary time seems not to emphasize cele-bration, just "more of the same." The church, how-ever, intends only to identify this part of the liturgical year as those weeks of the year proceeding in a long, numerical order (deriving from the Latin ordo) that are distinct from the holyday or holiday weeks iden-tified as Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter. And so there are some thirty weeks, liturgically, of "ordinary time" in every church year. But beyond the fact that ordinary time provides us with weeks in a numbered order, I believe that the church in her liturgy plants the seed that ordinary time is meant to be a time of wisdom. Wisdom might be described as "putting it all together," living an integrated life. For us Christians, wisdom means that we put our life together in the light of our being followers of Christ. The scrip-ture readings that flow through the Sunday and weekday read-ings for Mass and for the Liturgy of the Hours are both an inspiration for and a measurement of our living and acting as children of God. Jesus, as we see him living everyday life in the Gospels of ordinary time, remains the paradigm of what it means to be a human being, one created in the image and likeness of God. Being true God and true man, Jesus shares with us, through the Spirit, how to live our lives wisely in our own every-dayness as sons and daughters of God. We are baptized in Jesus' name; we are fed with his Body and Blood. The Son of God, Jesus, incarnate God--infinitely beyond Adam and Eve's mere creation in the image and like-ness of God--is our Brother. With him, we Christians experi-ence the new creation in his life, death, and resurrection. What our Scriptures in the church's ordinary time impress upon us is that we do not turn to the Gospels just for the high points of suffering or triumph or just for some code of rules. The Gospels are written to enter us into Jesus' wisdom way of living. Like St. Paul, we spend our lives trying to make it ever more true that "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me." The church presents us ordinary Christians with a chal-lenging paradox. Ordinary time is wisdom time. Because we are being formed daily by the word of God and nourished by daily bread, we dare to say with Jesus: "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ July-August 2002 feature PATRICIA WITTBERG Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life This year my congregation is celebrating its 150th anniversary. In special symposia and lectures, in liturgies and panel presentations, we have been encouraged to reflect about who ,we are as a community, who we have been--and who we will be. Since I have been researching relationship between religious congregations and their sponsored ministries, these events have spurred me to reflect on what it has meant--and what it will mean--that we are an apostolic congregation. I have, however, found it unexpectedly difficult to do this. How does our charism differ from that of an active monastic or evangelical order? In what way do our apostolates define who we are as a community, especially since very few of us still minister in the schools and hospitals we traditionally staffed? These are important questions to ask--and to continue asking--as we rearticulate our apostolic identity for the coming century. But I ,have come to believe that we lack an importfint kind of resource person who could facilitate our reflections. To the best Patricia Wittberg SC last wrote for us in September-October 2000. Her address is 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Review for Religious of my knowledge, no religious congregation makes provision for such a person in its reflection processes. There is not even a name for her, so I will call her--however awkwardly--an Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer, or AIC for short2 In this paper I will first attempt to oudine the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past. Next I will describe the kinds of activities an AIC might undertake to catalyze a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions. Who We Were: Shaping a Reciprocal Identity Throughout their history, apostolic religious congregations have developed in an intimate dialectic with the institutions they created, staffed, and administered. On the one hand, Catholic hospitals, schools, and social-work agencies derived their religious identity primarily from the presence of religious congregations. Religious nurses, teachers, and social workers, all fully habited, served as living icons of the spiritual character of these institutions. As owners they also made the key decisions and policies. Their presence on the staff and in the administration meant that the culture of the congregation infused the entire institution. Without pointing to the congregation's presence, it would have been hard for a school or hospital to articulate what made it Catholic. Until the mid 1960s, however, the two were so intertwined that the question never even arose. In a similar manner, religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. As Margaret Susan Thompson has pointed out in a previous issue of this journal,2 most U.S. women's apostolic congregations did not have a distinctive initial charism: rather, they have a "deep story" developed through years of lived experience. The distinctive identity of my own congregation was forged as sisters worked and lived together in our hospitals in Dayton and Albuquerque, Religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. Wittber~ ¯ Reci~n'ocal Identities as they made bulletin boards together for our elementary schools in Detroit and Chicago, and as they cared for children in inner-city settlement houses and orphanages in Denver and Cincinnati. Young women got to know us through our ministries, and those attracted by our witness in these apostolates joined us. The congregation filled with new entrants who came expecting to perform institutional service, which further tied our apostolic identity to these works. Without citing the particular places where we served, it would have been difficult for many of us to articulate exactly what being an "apostolic" community meant. A Parallel: Mission-Effectiveness Offices in Catholic Institutions Most religious communities today have loosened, and some have completely severed, their ties with their institutions. Within their hospitals, colleges, and other agencies, this has led to some serious institutional soul-searching. Bereft of the iconic presence of the religious order, these institutions were in danger of losing their distinctive religious character. "Isomorphic" pressures from government regulations, professional associations, and economic competitors threatened to make them indistinguishable from other private schools or hospitals) The leaders of these organizations realized that retaining a distinct religious identity in the face of such pressures would require a deliberate effort. An institutional religious identity could not simply depend on the private spirituality the individual workers might bring to their jobs. Such spirituality was likely to remain private to each individual, since there are strong American cultural norms against sharing one's spirituality in the workplace. A school's, a hospital's, or a social agency's institutional religious identity had to be developed and shared in a way that would be transformative: grounding the daily operations of each department, underlying the administrative decisions, and spurring an ongoing, institution-wide search for new and creative ways to be a Catholic (or Jesuit or Vincentian) organization. Many religious hospitals, colleges, and other institutions, therefore, created special mission-effectiveness positions to address these goals. The person filling this role--often the last remaining member of the sponsoring congregation still in full- Review for Religious time ministry there--has typically been responsible for activities such as the following: ¯ orienting new staff and administrators to the charism or ethos of the sponsoring religious community (Jesuit scholarship, Vincentian caring, the spirit of Mercy); ¯ organizing periodic retreats and seminars for long-standing staff and administrators, in order to keep the spirit of the founding congregation fresh and alive; ¯ conducting various spiritual "leaven" activities: leading daily prayers over the public address system, organizing liturgies, providing short reflective prayers before meetings, disseminating newsletters or daily bulletins, erecting and maintaining religious iconography, and so forth; ¯ creating psychic and physical spaces where staff and administrators feel encouraged to share their spiritual journeys; ¯ estab-lishing awards for staff and administrators who most typify the founding spirit, and publicizing the winners of these awards; ¯ writing, updating, and promulgating the mission statement; ¯ raising ~ssues of mission and ethics at meetings of the board of trustees and other instances when key decisions are made; ¯ acting .as liaison with the sponsoring congregation, to help define what the implications of congregational sponsorship are for the institunon; ¯ serving as the religious-identity spokesperson to the media, overseeing public relations activities connected to the institution's religious identity. This is the ideal, of course. Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. A recent study found that "even in colleges that maintain the vice-presidential rank for the mission-effectiveness officer, there is no guarantee that the position will enjoy institutional prominence . Frequently the position operates on the .periphery of the college, resulting in compartmentalization rather than integration of mission concerns into daily senior-level academic or administrative decision making.''4 Mission statements may be mere words, Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. July-August 2002 PVi~tberg * Reciprocal Identities uncoupled from and alongside the day-to-day running of the institution. But at least the concept of mission effectiveness exists in our institutions, and we can readily articulate the kinds of activities such a position would involve. Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer: An Unknown (but Necessary) Role The same is not true for the position which I have termed the Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer. In fact, the apostolic congregations I know of do not have such a person. But, if mission-effectiveness offices are important for maintaining the religious identity of a school or hospital in the absence of its founding religious congregation, an apostolic-identity office should be equally important in helping maintain the apostolic identity of a religious congregation that is uncoupled from its institutions. In this section I will try to explain why I believe this to be so. When apostolic religious congregations withdrew from their institutions, they lost a key component of their former identity. Monastic and evangelical congregations, which had been inappropriately conformed to the apostolic model in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, could--and often did--simply revert to their original identities. But, to the extent that apostolic congregations had drawn their identity from their specific institutional works, they have had to devise a new articulation of who they are as a group and why they exist. "Isomorphic" pressures have also influenced this process. These pressures do not come from government regulations, professional standards, or economic pressures dictating what kind of identity an apostolic congregation should assume. Rather, they come from the ideals or "templates" current in the church and in society, which presume a primarily spiritual basis for the identity of religious groups. These spiritual foci commonly fill the void left by the loss of a congregation's institutional apostolate. Some apostolic communities have thus become more like small Christian communities, faith-sharing groups, or even parishes. The members minister in various locations and professions, pray privately every day, and meet regularly as a group for shared prayer and/or socializing: Other congregations Review for Religious have formed intentional communities that more closely approximate the monastic model: the members live and pray communally, but leave for separate ministries during the day. In either case, the conKregation begins to draw its identity more and more from the common spiritual activities of its members, and less and less from any common apostolic character. New entrants are attracted by the spirituality of the congregation, not by its distinctive common apostolates --which no longer exist. The metamorphosis continues. If apostolic religious life is to retain its distinctive identity, apostolic congregations must take deliberate steps to foster it. As with the religious identity of our former institutions, this will not happen automatically. Nor can we assume that our congregation is apostolic simply because we, as individual religious, give witness to God's love in our individual apostolates. (Surely all Christians are called to do that!) A congregation's apostolic identity must be transformative of the entire congregation, grounding the daily operations within the motherhouse, provincialates, and local houses, und.erlying the decisions of the council or leadership team, and spurring the community on its search for new and creative ways to be an apostolic congregation. This is where an apostolic-identity office would be useful. Since I know of no congregation that provides for such a role, the following list of suggested tasks is deliberately modeled on the activities which mission-effectiveness offices perform in our sponsored institutions. Within a given congregation, therefore, the AIC might be responsible for some or all of the following tasks: ¯ Orienting new members to the apostolic tradition of the congregation, as part of the formation program. This might include workshops or presentations, along with arranging visits to the former institutions and interviews with retired sisters who used to work there. ¯ Organizing periodic retreats and seminars for the professed and associate members of the congregation on the way(s) the congregation currently expresses its apostolic identity. This might include facilitating volunteer opportunities (whether single days throughout the year or six-week summer experiences) at some sites. Or theologians might be invited to community gatherings to discuss the various theologies of the interaction July-Augt*st 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities between spirituality and the apostolate. Or the clients served may be invited to give input on how they see the apostolic witness of the congregation and how it can be improved. ¯ Conducting various apostolic "leaven" activities within the congregation: circulating specially written prayers for specific apostolates and/or designating specific days of prayer for them; writing feature articles on the apostolates in the congregation's newsletter and/or disseminating a special newsletter on the apostolates; organizing the collection of money and goods; erecting and maintaining displays of apostolic artifacts at the motherhouse and elsewhere; initiating letter-writing campaigns to elected officials on apostolic issues; and so forth. ¯ Creating psychic and physical spaces where members are encouraged to share the insights, joys, and sorrows they have derived from their apostolates. The Daughters of Charity, with whom I currendy live, have a special monthly apostolic reflection wherein each member of the local house shares some incident from her ministry through which God has spoken to her that day. In a local house of another congregation where I once lived, we spent an afternoon and evening visiting each sister's work-place so that we could have a mental picture of the setting in which she spent a good part of her day. ¯ Establishing awards or other forms of recognition for individual members whose apostolic works witness to the character of the congregation, and publicizing these awards in the congregation and in the surrounding neighborhood or town or city. ¯ Leading reflections and other activities on the apostolic aspects of the congregation's mission statement (or facilitating the composition of such a statement if one does not currently exist). ¯ Raising issues of the congregation's apostolic identity at council meetings (which implies that the AIC is a member of the council). ¯ Initiating a congregational reflection to define exactly what the "sponsor" relationship requires of the congregation. As at least one critic has pointed out, the duties and obligations of sponsorship are often specified for the sponsored institution, but rarely are similar duties and obligations spelled out for the sponsoring congregation,s The MC might encourage meetings of both the leadership and the membership to outline the responsibilities the congregation has toward its institutions. Once these are determined, the AIC might be the one to see that they are met. Review for Religious ¯ Serving as a liaison with the various sponsored ministries. If the congregation has a separate board of sponsored ministries, then the AIC should be a member of it (and perhaps chair it). ¯ Serving as the apostolic-identity spokespdrson for the congregation to the media, overseeing public-relations activities connected with the congregation's apostolic identity. Again, this is an idealized picture. As with the mission-effectiveness offices in our former institutions, the activities of the apostolic-identity office may be marginalized in a given religious community. Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Others may wish to forget about their jobs--especially if they find them draining and exhausting--and focus on more spiritual and recreational matters during the congregation's brief time together. Still others, formed in the days of common ministry within large institutions, may not - feel the need to discuss how apostolate is related to religious life today. And, since an apostolic-identity office is such a novel concept, many may not see why one is needed at all. Surely our congregation is already top-heavy with leadership? Why do we need to release another member from active ministry to do this? Perhaps the demise of the apostolic form of religious life is inevitable. Large hospitals, colleges, and other institutions may have become so bureaucratized and professionalized that they can no longer credibly represent a corporate Catholic vision of education, healthcare, or social service (although, of course, individual teachers or nurses--lay and religious--may still bring their private spiritualities to their jobs in these institutions). Fast-paced American culture, steeped in workaholism, may make it difficult to stop and be reflective about the work we do. There Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Ju~-dugu¢ 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities may be a greater need for religious life forms focused on community and spirituality than on work--especially work in large institutions. Certainly monastic and contemplative religious communities are showing stronger growth than most apostolic ones.6 Religious life may thrive in monastic, evangelical, or future undreamed-of forms, even if its apostolic version becomes extinct. Perhaps an AIC would be a useless relic of a time already past. Or perhaps not. Perhaps what the world most needs is the witness of a group whose common vision for a transformative spiritual identity permeates the offices, factories, and marketplaces where its members work. Perhaps the reciprocal dialectic of religious community and sponsored ministry, each forming and transforming the other, is a longed-for alternative to the prevailing, "Enronized" corporate culture. Perhaps apostolic religious congregations possess the seed of a new corporate ministerial presence in the world, over and above the scattered individual ministries of their members. If so, then this vision, this dialectic, this presence, must be fostered and nurtured to growth. An AIC would have her job cut out for her. Notes i This is a terribly unattractive name, of course, but I am unable to think of any other. If this article persuades any congregation to establish the office of apostolic-identity catalyzer, they might consider naming it after a founding member who exemplified the apostolic dedication the congregation wishes to foster. 2 Margaret Susan Thompson, "Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June, 1999): 230-250. 3 According to sociologists studying organizations, "isomorphism" refers to the many pressures, both external and internal, which lead them to adopt similar practices. External pressures would include government regulations, professional accreditation standards, and the demands of customers/clients. Internal pressures would include ways of thinking that administrators develop from all of them being trained in the same schools, clinging to established practices in times of uncertainty, and needing to project an image of competence. See Walter W. Powell and Paul J. DiMaggio, eds., The New Institutionalfim in Organizational Analysis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991). 4 Dennis H. Holtschneider CM and Melanie M. Morey, "Relationship Review for Religious Revisited: Changing Relations between U.S. Catholic Colleges and Universities and Founding Religious Congregations," Occasional Paper No. 47, Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges. s Melanie M. Morey, Leadership and Legacy: ls There a Future for the Past? A Study of Eight Colleges Founded by Catholic VVomen's Religious Congregations, dissertation, School of Education, Harvard University, 1995, p. 203. 6 "Monasteries Enjoy Boom, with Some Help from Marketing," Religion Watch 17, no. 6 (April 2002): 2-3. Promissory In early March buds begin to swell on my peach tree. It is too soon. This uncertain month delivers snow and fro~t with its warm, sweet winds. But there they are, small, swelling promises of succulent fruit, nature's resurrective fiat silently shouting down my wintery worry with summer's certainty. Bonnie Thurston July-Aug~tst 2002 GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst spirituality These are not easy days for the diocesan priesthood. Sexually inappropriate behavior has been making rousing--and saddening--copy in newspapers and magazines. This behavior can be, must be, viewed from a number of different perspectives. I mention just a few: the horrendous injustice and injury done to the victims; the sickness, often, of the perpetrator himself; the lack of honest dealing with sexual urges; the unjust accusation of some priests; the betrayal and undermining of the trust of many members of the church; and the faithful, generous service of many unheralded diocesan priests. I do not deny the seriousness of the present situation, nor am I insensitive to the many serious repercussions of the publicity. We all have much to learn from this difficult time for the diocesan priesthood. Seminary formation programs--indeed each individual priest--must honestly and carefully look at both sexual orientation and the swirling interior cauldron of sexual impulse, fantasy, and urge. Sexuality George Aschenbrenner SJ was cofounder of the Institute for Priestly Fbrmation at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, and.is director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 223; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565. Review for Religious is only one aspect, but always an important one, of the discerning presence 6f the diocesan priest in the midst of a local people. This article is not about the sexual aspect of discernment, but implications for that area of human experience will be easily recognized. I focus on a central constituent of diocesan priesthood, namely, the priest's discerning presence in the midst of a local people. (In a recent book I develop this and other charisms that are needed in diocesan priesthood.)! The desires and needs of his people seek, from the diocesan priest, discernment, the art of holiness, but these desires and needs may not be easily detected. Holiness, in itself, does not seem something most people are daily concerned with. But reflection may suggest otherwise. Though often thought of or spoken of in other words and with a deceptive indirectness, the longing of the human heart for more--for something beyond what we have and appreciate, beyond our present knowing--stirs in all of us from time to time, especially in quiet moments. If we sometimes find this longing in ourselves, we must assume it in others as well. And, when the glow has faded from life and still we cannot say or put into words what we are missing, we and others may recognize that this longing for more is really a desire for an ever greater goodness, for holiness, in fact a desire for God. The ordinary people of a parish feel this in many ways, but may seldom try to express it. They desire holiness, a relationship that gets them out of the narrow confines of their own self. They seek greater meaning, more happiness, and greater love in the humdrum of ordinary living. Other people in the parish are more explicit and direct. They want to pray better; they want to know God's love more; they want their faith to be more alive. Though some may have a counselor or friend with whom they speak of these concerns, the principal person to whom people bring such stirrings and longings is their diocesan priest. They look to him for help, for answers, for the solution to their dissatisfaction. But what can the priest do? What answers does he have? He is presumed to have the graced art of daily growth in holiness. This is precisely what we mean by discernment of spirits. It is a very human process, God's subtle inspiration enlightening us to interpret, make sense of, the fire of God's awesome love present in the ordinary daily experience of us all. In various ways the human psyche is always encountering our Ascbenlrrenner * Diocesan Priestbood loving God. And these experiences are indeed profoundly human, and yet so much more. In faith they are experiences of a love promising a joy that alone can satisfy our longings, to some real extent here and now, but fully only on the other side of death. This discerning art of holiness is not a catalogue of answers to be learned and then distributed on request. Rather, it is a life to be lived in the uniquely personal part of our hearts, and yet with extroverting implication for all our human brothers and sisters and for our union with them in the transformation of our whole expanding universe. This article, then, is not a minicourse on discernment, nor is it a review of the answers a priest will need for all the people's questions. Rather, I want to present something of what is involved in a priest's discerning understanding, in his radiating the fire of the Holy Spirit for the people of his parish. I will describe four steps that are part of a discerning life and then three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. As a spiritual leader in the midst of the parish, the priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. This charism prepares the priest to play two important roles of service among the people: as a guide into the mystery of God's fire of love and as a soul doctor for those being healed and purified in that same fire. Discernment: God's Story of Mature Faith Growth Holiness and growth in union with God always involve the full human person alive in his or her concrete circumstances. A person's spiritual maturity, then, involves good actions, but also much more. It involves feeling and emotion, but also much more. Together with concern for actions and feelings, spiritual maturity must go down into a person's inner core. It is from this core that God's love should radiate into holy action and feeling so that people can readily become aware of God's love in the world. This radiation is an invitation to notice and welcome God's love in every situation. Discernment of spirits means achieving such recognition. Sometimes discernment is mistakenly seen as one of any number of approaches to mature spiritual development. Indeed, Review for Religious some schools of faith growth have their own terminology. Under these different articulations, however, is one fundamental process of growth toward mature faith, a sorting of inner experiences. For this reason, discernment of spirits is the story of personal faith growth, God's story of it. This process has two roots: our human reality within God's creation and God's revelation in Jesus. Discernment of spirits is God's story of us, narrated both in our makeup as human creatures and in God's love for us all in Jesus. If only this love shone clearly, brilliantly, beautifully in every situation! At times it does, of course, but at other times the radiance of this love is stained by smog or hidden by a heavy cloud of evil. If all were goodness, grace, and beauty, how wonderful--and surely no need for any careful sorting in such a good world. Or, if all were evil, darkness, and wickedness, we would live on the brink of despair--but, again, no need for any sorting or sifting. But, when the world of human beings is ambiguous and mixed, and still we are c~lled to find the goodness in it and to display it in ourselves in our daily lives, then a discernment of spirits within ourselves assumes an essential importance. We must learn to distinguish our selfish impulses from the radiant inspirations of the Holy Spirit of God. Most people have not developed the skills for expert discerning of spirits, but, if they do no discerning at all, mature faith eludes them. The priest, then, the spiritual leader and soul doctor in the parochial community, must do the hard work of learning the theory and practice of soul doctoring, of discerning holiness. In the midst of such careful inner sorting, we must never forget this: God desires and is committed to each of us in Jesus more than we can fully realize--and the Holy Spirit is constandy active in our hearts and our world. Christian holiness always has its initiative in the fire of God's loving desires for us. It is never a figment of our imagination or a product of our willpower. It is the mystery of God's precious gift for us all. But each of us must The priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. 3~uly-du~lst 2002 Aschenbrenn~ * Diocesan Priesthood learn to recognize, receive, and nurture the gift. And we need a guide to lead us, in some special ways, into the fire, into the radiant glow of that mystery: God's love burning bright in Jesus. The Material of Discernment God wants each of us to imitate.Jesus uniquely. The great challenge and invitation that haunts us all is to discover our true self in Christ. For each of us God intends a unique revelation of Christ. Though the enterprise has very complex aspects, the point is as simple as it is startling: God wants each of us to imitate Jesus uniquely. The very self that God intends each of us to be is a unique, living imitation of Jesus. And that life of ours is meant to shine for all the world. This true self, this unique revelation, this treasure is camouflaged in the spontaneous interiority of our daily consciousness. This pearl of great price, this treasure beyond all value, must be searched for and recognized when stumbled upon. Into the daily spontaneous consciousness of the priest and of his people come many images, feelings, thoughts, impulses, and moods, sometimes quietly, some-times shockingly. This inner world has a variety of seasons, bright hopeful springs and dark threatening winters. We might wish we could glimpse our true self in Christ conveniently and directly, avoiding tentative efforts to interpret these various elements in ourselves like the weather. But we do not even have anything like a satellite picture of our ow~ inner world. God takes the complexity of our human condition seriously, and so Jesus usually comes to us at the place where our own consciousness tangles with today's large or small historical realities. To try to avoid this encounter would be to deprive ourselves--and other people, too--of our unique opportunity to reveal Jesus Christ as God intends, that is, in daily circumstances that without our presence may lack the glow and radiance of fire. Whenever one person avoids these opportunities, the radiance of us all is somehow dimmed. The diocesan priest, doctor of souls that he is called to be, must not fail to uncover the treasure in these moments; others, seeing it, will carry the glow far beyond him. Revie~ for Religiou~ This discerning search for the treasure of our true self can be described in four steps, steps easier to describe than to apply to real circumstances. My intention is to describe the steps so that the priest can learn to recognize them in his own experience and then make them his own. This discerning process can then help the priest, the soul doctor, to guide people in discovering and welcoming the mystery of God's love in their own hearts and lives. Turned toward God This first step is most important and profound: an identity in Jesus Christ. Until this identity has been cultivated enough, serious discernment is not possible. A serious turning to God readies the heart for discernment and so initiates any trustworthy searching for the treasure of God's personal, uniquely specific love. This turning is a real change that grades the ground of our heart to a new incline: away from ourselves and toward God. It is more than a passing fancy or a momentary quirk. The realization that we are conceived, marked, and shaped from the dawn of our existence by a God who always and only loves, this realization takes root and changes the landscape of our daily lives. This realization of a Love greater than the love we have for ourselves stops us in our tracks. It invites an about-face. It gets us out of ourselves. A whole new vista opens up. We have discovered and been turned toward Someone more beloved than we are to ourselves. Is this Love for real? Can this Beloved be trusted? What are we to make of all this, of these subtle perceptions. As we pay closer attention to them, the realization can come that receiving and responding to such Love assumes an importance beyond all else. The ground under our feet shakes and radically shifts. At this juncture, there is a clarity; something has clearly changed. A central question has been posing itself in our heart for a long time: Am I the ultimate meaning of my own life? As we heard that question, the winds of our contemporary culture kept howling their answer: "Yes, of course! Of course I am the ultimate meaning 'of my own life! If not I, who else could be?" But now that yes is radically shaken and splinters into a clear no. The tree of my life is changed. I am no longer the ultimate July-Augwst 2002 Ascbenlrrenner ¯ Diocesan Priesthood meaning of my own life. Now my life's meaning is God's Love-- as promised and present in the risen Jesus. A new sun has risen, and it will never set. Now life becomes, more and more, fascination with this mysterious Beloved and radical openness and readiness for whatever that Love draws me to. Something has deepened and developed. An early seedling of religious intuition has become the fragile sprouting of a realization that by being tested becomes stronger and more deeply rooted. An early surmise and semiconscious intuition becomes a resolute desire of will. No tall grass shivering in the wind, but a tree, deeply rooted and still growing. This resolute desire shapes and casts our lives in love: first, God's ever faithful love in the risen Jesus and then our own love, our carefully discerned response of love. From now on, life is about love, at times tough love, but love nonetheless, and always. Make no mistake about that! In some important way, we are no longer in charge of our own lives. God is! Life is not yes to self, but yes to God, as shown in Jesus ("with him it was always yes," 2 Co 1:19). Facing Our Spontaneous Life Insofar as the countercultural movement to God's love has begun to take serious rooting in our heart, a second step beckons. Only honest facing of our inner spontaneous life makes it possible for us to find, in faith, trustworthy understandings about God. This statement is true, but it prescinds from the ingenuity of human consciousness for dishonest avoidance and selfish projection. We must learn, as best we can, to stand clear of these deceits and deceptions, whether conscious or unconscious, if we are to discern God's loving desire in our hearts. This is no easy matter, and invites the priest to an asceticism leading to truth and love. Sometimes this asceticism, always motivated by a growing desire to live in God's consoling love, will involve unlearning some previous training. An overly rationalistic view of Christian spirituality downplays, even scorns, the role of spontaneity and feeling, while on the other hand a supersensitivity to feeling and sentiment can smuggle into Christian spirituality a presumption that proclaims, sometimes quite unwittingly, that whatever we feel is God's will for us. In both of these instances, a previous Review for Religious learning must be honestly acknowledged, judged as incorrect, and gradually changed. As difficult as this change may seem, especially when the previously learned viewpoint has taken deep root, such a conversion is always possible for two reasons: first and foremost, the mystery of God's steadfast desire to get through to us and, second, our own soul's desire for ever greater radiance. If the priest stays in close touch with these two desires, he will be capable of whatever transformation is necessary because it will really be the work of the radiant Holy Spirit of God beckoning him beyond his own depth and into the realm of greater mystery in faith. A Wisdom of Interpretation in Faith In the process of the discernment I am describing here, for someone clearly turned toward God and honestly sensitive to the flow of inner spontaneity, the issue becomes a matter of meaning: Where is God in all of this? The answer requires a certain wisdom and ability to interpret. But interpretation could spring from any number of different vantage points, for example, from lived common sense, from majority cultural opinion, from professional human development, or from Christian faith. All of these different "wisdoms" might overlap to a small or large extent, but each would produce a different conclusion when used as the central focus of interpretation. In discernment the focus is profoundly one of Christian faith, a faith radiating with the experience of Jesus Christ and revealed in the Holy Spirit. How God is present here, now, offering a love beyond all loves--that is the central concern for a person turned toward and identified in God. As we have seen already, God is always present in all of our present historical world and in all of our spontaneous inner experience, but never simply and completely present to us. That treasure of a love beyond all value, that revelation of our own unique imitation of Jesus, must be sought in the mixture and confusion of our inner lives. An enlightenment of the Holy Spirit springing from our experience of God's faithful love alone--that is the gift needed at this point. Such enlightenment and wisdom differ subtly, though sharply, from enthusiastic generosity and simplistic sincerity. By themselves, without graced wisdom, these two qualities lack a North Star and can be dangerously ~Tuly-Au~st 2002 Aschenbrenner * Diocesan Priesthood misleading. The wisdom referred to here has a profound paschal orientation and is found more and more decisively present and operative in Jesus as he moves into the depths of his Passion all the way to Calvary and into his resurrected glory. This wisdom and enlightenment is hot the result of taking an academic course or reading a book. And it is not some sleight of hand or guesswork either. It is a grace the priest must pray for regularly. It has a firm context, and this helps the priest to be sure about the giftedness of his insight. The insight is tested in relation to the polestar of our identity in God's love. The. presence of the Holy Spirit is revealed in anything that conforms to our resolute desire to keep God's love, not self-love, as our focus. And anything that violates this focus is not an inspiration from God, but a nudge, large or small, toward self-idolatry. A pleasure-pain instinct in all of us tries to tilt us toward self-idolatry. This instinct of liking pleasure and fearing pain is understandable and healthy. But, when we let it assume a priority and centrality, when it becomes the focal light for our interpretation, then we become narcissistic. This pleasure-pain principle, in itself, is never fully identified with the paschal enlightenment of God's love. It was not so identified in the experience of Jesus. The pleasure-pain instinct did not plot his course to his beloved Father. Escaping 'the dominance of this instinct demands an asceticism. We are not to renounce this instinct pure and simple; rather, we renounce it as the polestar of our identity. Developing in faith our interpersonal relationship of love with God in the beauty of Jesus will not completely get rid of this instinct, but will weaken it. God's love ~n Jesus has become the treasure beyond all value, and what a grace it is to know indescribable pain when deprived of that treasure. To learn how to stand with Jesus, sometimes in pleasure and at other times in pain--this is the mature wisdom of a person consciously living in God's love. It is to claim the treasure intended by God before the foundation of the world: a radiant true self uniquely imitating the mystery of Jesus. Tactics for Intimacy with God The final step in this process is decisive tactics in accord with the paschal-faith interpretation of the previous step. For Review for Religious someone whose heart is resolutely set on following the lead of God's love, anything experienced as an incarnation of that love (often called consolation) is to be embraced, claimed, and lived, and anything that deflects us from God's love and toward self-idolatry (usually called desolation) is to be rejected and courageously withstood. In this step the issue is courage and decisive generosity, something possible only when illumined and strengthened by paschal wisdom. The issue is whether we will follow, and how wholeheartedly, the revelation of the Holy Spirit. This is the time for the soul's character to be healed and for faith to be annealed in the fire of the Holy Spirit. This process helps the hidden self grow strong, so that the priest can be a discerning presence in the midst of the people. Discernment, a life of mature spirituality, always acknowledges, distinguishes, and then interrelates three different dimensions of human existence: external behavior, what I call the core of the soul, and inner spontaneity. To develop and live out of the core of our true self is never easy, if possible at all in our post-modern world, but is always crucial for responsible, mature living in faith. Today's culture has great need of doctors of the soul who can facilitate the development of this core sense of true self through the integration of these three dimensions of human existence. Though our external behavior is perceptible and often consumes enormous energy, it is nothing more than a superficial part of our being. The activity on this stage poses a question of meaning, a question that it cannot itself answer even though it may seem to contain adequate answers for others and even ourselves. In our daily activity we touch and influence many people. As the New Testament reminds us, the activity of sincere loving reveals the genuineness of our faith. In the midst of our busy lives, the question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? Some careful reflection is needed to answer correctly and accurately. The question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? 2002 .~chenbrenner ¯ Diocesan Prie~thood A Hidden Self Grown Strong The soul's core is the unique and deepest part of every human person. This core plays a crucial role in the discovery of our true self in the beauty of Christ. A deep-hearted personal world, a treasure beyond value, is gradually revealed, acknowledged, and then laid claim to, though this whole process is much more one of receiving than of making. This inner core has a depth and a simplicity that is beyond words. As we grow in our appreciation of this personal center, its presence dawns, alluringly shrouded in mist and mystery. In the shifting mists of this mysterious realm, a noisy world is hushed. God breathes eternal love and life into this core of our soul moment by moment and on into eternity. This same creative love, unique to each of us, is in all of us. Our experience of God and of ourselves becomes ever more profound, personal, and unique. Even as you now read, this profoundly personal inner experience, this quiet steady conversation of love at our deepest core, gives the lie to feelings of suffocating loneliness. It gives the lie to the hateful notion that anybody is rotten to the core. Because of Jesus' love, a buried treasure, a pearl beyond pricing, a hidden self waits to be discovered in each human being, to be embraced, and to grow strong. Spontaneity takes place in the "skin" of our soul, in the rational and affective human experience of us all. As mentioned earlier, this experience of spontaneity conceals the deep treasure of our true self in Christ. These spontaneities of thinking and feeling may skitter across the skin of our souls, but do not touch the core. Spontaneities of impulse, image, and mood can flail and crackle and roar across our lives like an electrical storm. Such skitterings, such storms, coming and going, can bother or frustrate or enrage us. But they do, finally, pass. This level, spontaneous unintended experience, has the unpredictability of shifting sands and is not capable of the rock-like dependability of the core of the soul. This skin of the soul poses its own question: Are we simply and wholly identified by what we spontaneously think or feel? Though "what I feel" is never equal to "who I am," in the midst of a temporary storm we can all too easily judge otherwise. These spontaneities, though, really are on a different level. They are part of a process of integration, of coming to spiritual Review for Religious maturity, but they have their meaning only in relation to the soul's core. The presen.ce of these three dimensions of our persons and the four-step discernment process for integrating them should be familiar to the priest. Such integration is the way to mature faith and to appropriate activity that mature faith leads to. This integration is sometimes easy and obvious, sometimes confusing and excruciating. But doing it in love, doing it in our own unique imitation of Jesus' way of loving us, makes it possible, encouraging and strengthening us. This is the realm of service for a doctor of the soul. If the seminary communicates this and if it continues long after ordination, the result of this integration, this purification, will be like gold, bright and not sadly tarnished. To his service of their souls, the priest will bring a radiance that can illumine and develop the bright potential of their own lives. This radiance will be God's love shining from the face of the risen Jesus, still serving in our midst. Notes I George Aschenbrenner SJ, Quickening the Fire in Our Midst: The Challenge of Diocesan Priestly Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2002). 2 See George Aschenbrenner SJ, "A Hidden Self Grown Strong," in Handbook of Spirituality for Ministers, ed. Robert J. Wicks (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1995), pp. 228-248. "Hidden Self," pp. 236-240. In the Words of Meister Eckhart The soul loves the body tenderly, even when, like a child on edge, it runs rambunctious through desire collapsing at last and won&ring why. Maryanne Hannan ~Tuly-dugv~st 2002 ERNEST E. LARKIN Desert Spirituality Booth Christian Meditation and centering prayer come out f early monasticism, which itself is a development of desert spirituality? Christian Meditation is the prayer of the heart described by John Cassian, the historian of desert spiri-tuality, who brought the wisdom of the desert fathers and moth-ers of Egypt and the Middle East to the West. Centering prayer comes out of the Cloud of Unknowing, a 14th-century English text that enshrines the contemplative traditions of the desert. It is no accident that both these contemplative prayer forms came to us by way of Benedictine and Trappist monasteries. Desert spirituality was the beginning of Christian monasti-cism and the matrix out of which Western monks developed their lifestyle. Contemplative prayer was at the heart of their life, and desert spirituality was the context. This article proposes to examine those ancient traditions and adapt them to our times. Desert spirituality is a technical term that has biblical and early Christian roots. The desert experience is a staple of both the Old and the New Testaments, for example, in the Exodus story, in the life of Elijah and the prophecy of Hosea, in John the Baptist, the forty-day fast of Jesus, and the three-year novitiate of Paul in Arabia (Ga 1:17). This desert experience was devel-oped into a coherent spirituality by the desert fathers and moth- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us twice in 2001. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Review for Religious ers in the 3rd and 4th centuries of the Christian era. These fer-vent Christians fled to Egypt and the Middle East to escape the decadence of an effete Roman empire. The wastelands offered a stark and untrammeled setting for a life of penance and prayer. Its rugged emptiness and its silence and solitude invited the flight from the world OCuga mundi). A special appeal to heroic souls was the belief that the demons infested the wastelands and could be met there in open combat. It did not take long for the desert dweller to discover that the demons were within and to be engaged on the battleground of the soul. Life in the desert was simple. Manual labor broke the monotony of the silence and solitude of the cell and provided .its own asceticism as well as sustenance and something for almsgiving. Desert dwellers spent their days in soul searching and the pursuit of the living God. Community life, especially when the solitary life prevailed, and outreach in ministry were clearly sec-ondary and not really part of the inte-rior struggle. Continuous prayer was the focus, and the abbas and the ammas spent their time in lectio div-ina, reading the psalms and the breviary, celebrating liturgy, and cultivating the prayer of the heart. These are the main fea-tures of desert spirituality. In this setting Christian holiness was a kind of white mar-tyrdom, a total giving over of one's life to God, the shedding of all self-indulgence in favor of a single-minded search for God. The desert was a graphic symbol of the emptiness of life and the otherness of God. The emptiness translated into purity of heart, a heart freed from sinful affections and centered on God. Thus the beatitude that best sums up desert spirituality is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God." Contemplation is the goal, and letting go of all lesser aims and surrender to the living God the condition. This general principle is abstract and can be lived out in an imaginary as well as a real desert. The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. There is, however, still place for the physical desert in ordinary Christian life. We examine this role The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. ]My-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality in the next two sections of this paper, and we will return to the symbolic desert in the third section. Our first question is this: What can the desert do for me? In other words, why should I go out into the desert? The second question is a prophetic one: What can I do for a desert that is now under attack by the forces of neglect or consumerism? How do my efforts to protect the environment or my failure to participate affect my personal life? After these two reflections we will return to the overall princi-ple of desert spiritfiality, the call to emptiness and encounter with God. What Can the Desert Do for Me? In Scripture the desert is primarily the wasteland, and it leads to the garden of the promised land, the desert come to life, as in Isaiah 35:1-2: "The desert shall rejoice and blossom . The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon." Both the bleak image and the flowering one apply to the physical desert as we use the term today. The desert means the wilderness, the great outdoors. This includes barren wastelands like sand dunes or the scrubby flatlands of Texas or Arizona, but also verdant gardens, scenic forests, majestic moun-tains, and rolling plains. The desert is all the places on this beautiful earth that are still largely untouched by city sprawl and offer themselves as a refuge for weary people. These lands can be gift for our spirits. They refresh us and challenge us. They beckon us to "come aside and rest awhile," away from the noise and congestion of the city with its polluted air and harried traffic. The desert is the place to hike a trail, fish a stream, pic-nic with friends, or just smell the sage and be with one's long thoughts. " Except for some few families that have declared their inde-pendence and homesteaded in the wild and some rare hermits who have also settled there, people today only visit this desert; they do not dwell there. They go out for physical exercise and emotional refreshment, for meditation and for fun. They enter desert places hostile to human habitation very gingerly, armed with water jugs, proper sun gear, and ideally with companions. Some visit these "fierce landscapes" (Belden Lane) for excite-ment, others to deal with a crisis, a limit experience, a sorrow Review for Religious that overwhelms them. Perhaps unconsciously they are looking for an environment that mirrors their troubled soul. A good example of this kind of match between soul and terrain is a retreat for middle-aged men described in a recent publication.2 It was conducted by Richard Rohr and designed to help men from many walks of life through their midlife crisis. The retreat took place at Ghost Ranch in northern New Mexico in the sum-mer of A.D. 2000. The men were challenged to let down their defenses and face themselves squarely. The retreat turned out to be a harrowing rite of passage. The torrid summer heat and the bleak lonely emptiness of the desert combined with soul-search-ing introspection and dramatic rituals to test the most stout-hearted. More often retreats or "a day in the desert" are spent in more friendly spaces. An attractive pastoral setting calms the soul and provides the quiet that people need for facing the real issues of their life. God seems closer in pristine settings. One popular formula for such outings is the poustinia, a concept pop-ularized by Catherine de Hueck Doherty. Poustinia means her-mitage, and folks become poustiniaks for a day, bringing along only a Bible and a bit of bread and cheese. The poustinia can actually be a back room or the attic of one's home, but there are advantages in going out to the woods or the seashore. Getting out in the country, breathing in the fresh air and fragrances of the meadows, walking around the lake or trudging along paths in hilly terrain, can be healthy physical exercise and spiritual refreshment. These are ways of slowing down, of refus-ing to be a couch potato and insuring the balance of mens sana in corpore sano (a sound mind in a sound body). Grace builds on nature, so a healthy body and soul are a good basis for the life of God in us. A good health regime works directly against anx-ious, workaholic tendencies or the equally bad habit of inertia and laziness. Recreational activities also develop the playful side of our lives. This is our contemplative side. Visitors to the desert know that God is everywhere and that they do not have. to go up to the heavens or across the sea to find the word of God. "No," Deuteronomy says, "the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe" (Dt 30:11-14). But the desert facilitates the search. The wide open spaces, the silence and solitude, reveal God. July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Silence is the best conta.ct point with God, since God is always present, though beyond speech, images, and concepts. The desert fosters this silence, this emptiness, the letting go of every-thing that is not of God. The desert is built for kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus, who was perfectly open to God and was therefore exalted with the pleroma, the fullness of the resurrec-tion (Ph 2:5-11). The desert way is the way of emptiness and fullness. These reflections belong to the first step on the spiritual journey, the appreciation of creation. Original blessing pre-ceded original sin, and immersion in creation and appreciation and love for this gift ought to precede the work of redemption. This is the thinking of Teilhard de Chardin, Matthew Fox, Francis Kelly Nemeck, and Marie Theresa Coombs. More recently Dorothee Soelle sees "being amazed" as the first of the three ways or stages of the spiritual life? Instead of the classi-cal ways of purification, illumination, and union, she proposes "being amazed, letting go, and resisting" as the three steps. Amazement and appreciation help us take an objective stance before the earth, and this makes it easier to let go, the second of the three ways for Soelle. This leads us to involvement, to compassion and commitment, regarding the world. She calls this resistance, because it involves working against the threats to the environment and society. That is to say, we resist and work for justice in all areas of life, such as the economic and the eco-logical orders. The unitive way calls to action as well as divine union. What Can I Do for the Desert? The work of saving the earth is a challenge and responsi-bility for people everywhere today. The call resonates among informed spiritual persons. They have listened to the new cos-mology presented by scientists like Brian Swimme and the "geologian" Thomas Berry, and they have heard the plaintive warnings of the environmentalists that the earth is wounded and in danger of collapsing. The universe has become part of today's spiritual journey. The whole universe and its crown, homo sapiens, are seen as one vast living organism in which they depend on each other and rise and fall together. In the past the Revieva for Religious earth was looked upon as an appendage of humanity. Humanity alone counted, and the rest of creation was expendable. Human beings pursued their own desires recklessly, without thought about the effects in the environment. They could trash the earth, abuse it or destroy it, without worry because there were always other virgin territories to exploit in the same way. This was an affront to creation; we see it now as an affront to human life as well, because, in the words of Edward Abbey, "the wilderness is not a luxury but a neces-sity of the human spirit just as vital to our lives as water and good bread.''4 The uni-verse is an integral part of our human life. We are partners, and we participate in growth or decline together. In the abuse or destruction of the universe, we are diminished and dehumanized. The commission in Genesis 1:26 to have "dominion" over the earth did not give humans the right to abuse it. We are only caretakers, not absolute owners; we cannot take the myopic view of looking for an immediate return in pleasure or profit with no thought about the long-term loss to creation and the short-changing of future human beings. One reviewer of Thomas Berry's latest book, The Great Work: Our Way into the Future, quotes Berry and then adds some strong words of his own: "'What happens to the outer world happens to the inner world,' Berry avers. 'If the outer world is diminished in its grandeur, then the emotional, imaginative, intellectual, and spiritual life of the human is diminished or extinguished.' Our inner being will die if we continue to transform natural beauty into the soul-deadening, concrete-laden, box-store landscapes of a consumer society." s The obligation to safeguard the environment has three aspects: personal, societal, and spiritual. Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. Some of that concern is cosmetic, like cleaning up after using the land and properly dis-posing of the debris, especially nonbiodegradable material. Respect and moderation mean that we do not harm the plant life by careless trampling, that we obey rules about camp fires and camping, that we leave the natural beauty intact without pil-fering plants or otherwise harming the vegetation, that we Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. July-Aug;ust 2002 Larkin ¯ Dese~t Spirituality carefully control toxic substances like pesticides or poisonous chemicals. These are cominonsense suggestions. The societal obligation may take the form of joining groups like the Sierra Club that are dedicated to the environment, or of lending one's name to, say, Robert Redford's campaign to save the National Arctic Wildlife Refuge. Systemic problems can be addressed only by group action that can effect structural changes. We need to support these causes. There is no other way to stop the pollution of our waterways and atmosphere, to keep indugtrial wastes out of our rivers and lakes, to find ade-quate ways of dealing with nuclear waste, to stop the destruction of the ozone layer, to save the rain forests and wetlands, and to halt the woefully unbalanced overconsumption by the few. Elizabeth Johnson writes: "Every year, the twenty percent of Earth's people in the rich nations use seventy-five percent of the world's resources and produce eighty percent of the world's waste." 6 There is a special spiritual component today because of the crisis in saving the earth. Time is running out, and experts say that there are only twenty-five or thirty years left to turn the destructive spiral around. The problems are over-whelming, and the laborers are few. We can organize and we can work, but the odds are against us. At such times we need overt divine help. Specifically the challenge is to pray con-templatively, to face the societal impasse which Constance FitzGerald, in a famous article several years ago, connected with the dark night of St. John of the Cross: The dark night occurs as impasse in all sectors of human life, whether prayer, human relationships, or societal renewal. One response to impasse is trusting acceptance, silence before God, and lov-ing surrender, which bring wisdom and strength and which are qualities of contemplative prayer. We take our insoluble problems to God. We wait with faith and trust, ready to spring into action in changing what we can deal with and accepting what we cannot change. Contemplative prayer is an admission that our problems may be beyond human resources. But our prayer is full of hope, because contem-plation may stretch our imagination and inspire new creative ways of dealing with the problem. Solid prayer will certainly strengthen our resolve to continue the struggle. The popu- Review for Religious larity of contemplative prayer in our time may well be con-nected with the magnitude of the problems of this age. Desert Spirituality in Its Purest Form We return now to the traditional meaning of desert in the spiritual life, namely, desert as physical place and as symbol. The desert of the first abbas and aromas was the real wasteland. Anthony and Pachormus spurned the fleshpots of the Roman cities and went to the bleak deserts of Egypt to be alone with God and to keep careful watch over the movements of their hearts. The purity of heart they sought meant that they tried to choose only the good, to do everything right, in perfect measure, for the right reasons. They prayed and fasted to put to death the old man within themselves, so that the new man could come alive. They underwent this discipline for one reason: They wanted to see God. This goal was not face-to-face vision, as heaven will be (1 Jn 3:1-3); nor was it seeing God as an object, the way I see a person in front of me. Neither was it simply a new understanding, a new image of God, or a new perception. It was a seeing that meant presence, companionship, walking with God. It was contemplative union with God. Contemplation follows purity of heart as night follows day. We have a window into the thinking of the desert fathers and mothers in the first conference of John Cassian.s The imme-diate objective of life in the desert was purity of heart; this he called the skopos (English "scope"). The skopos is oriented to a further good, which he calls the telos, the end or final purpose. An example of these two aspects of human endeavor is the life of the farmer. The farmer prepares the soil, plants the seed, hoes and manures the field. All this is his immediate task, his sko-pos. But he does it all with a view to the harvest, which is the telos, the real purpose of his work. If the skopos of life in the desert is purity of heart, the telos is the fullness of the kingdom of God, the resurrected life. This program of seeking perfect purity of heart in order to find God can be applied to every Christian life. Purity of heart-- as freedom from every actual sin and as right relationships with self, others, the world, and God--is the immediate task of the daily struggle. Purity of heart is more than chastity; it is all the Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Purity of heart is all the virtues in perfect integration. virtues in perfect integration. This marvelous condition is often set in negative terminology. It is called detachment, or indif-ference, or freedom from sinful habits. But it is a very positive condition identified with biblical faith. This faith is the response to the word of God wherever it is recognized. It is the faith of the Virgin Mary in St. Luke's Gospel. At the annunciation, for example, she is perturbed at the angel Gabriel's message. How can she, a committed virgin, be the mother of the Messiah? When the angel assures her that God will provide, she gives her full assent to that word. She lets go of her own project in favor of God's word. A high degree of purity of heart means a heart full of faith. It means a heart full of love. The pure of heart are loving per-sons. They will see God, that is, they will know and love God, as described in the First Letter of John: "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love . No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us" (1 Jn 4:7-8, 12). For the desert fathers and mothers and espe-cially for theologians like Evagrius and Gregory of Nyssa, see-ing God meant contemplation. This gift was the reward for the purification, and it consisted in experiencing union with God. This contemplation was not one particular experience, nor an altered state of consciousness. It came out of transformation. By allowing one's life to be brought under the movement of the Holy Spirit, one was born a new person, a "new creation" (2 Co 5:17). This new creature lived in the world of God and expe-rienced God in the whole gamut of his or her worldly occupa-tions. Contemplation was thus a way of life, not a particular experience. The Carmelite Application The evolution of desert spirituality suggested in this paper has special reference to Carmelite history. Carmel came out of Review for Religious the desert, born on Mount Carmel, home to the Old Testament prophet Elijah and to hundreds of hermits at the time of the Crusades. The Carmelites were one group of such hermits; they sought a rule of life from the Latin patriarch of Jerusalem, Albert of Avogadro, who held the office between 1206 and 1214. The result was the Rule of St. Albert, a contemplative and eremitical document that was simple, practical, and eminently scriptural. The tides of politics and war, however, forced the Carmelites to leave their sacred mountain and go back to Europe as early as 1238. The eremitic style of life underwent change in the direction of community and ministry, eventually making the order a mendicant one like the Dominicans and Franciscans. One of the early general superiors, Nicholas the Frenchman, tried to stem the move to the city. In 1270 he wrote a strong let-ter, called "The Fiery Arrow," calling the men to return to the desert. But the mendicant form of life had struck a chord in their hearts. They continued to foster their contemplative long-ing, but now they carried the desert in their hearts. The desert was a symbol now rather than the physical reality. A second charter of the order, called the Institution of the First Monks, dated 1370 and written by a Catalonian Carmelite, Philip Ribot, presented a symbolic life of Elijah and the example of the Blessed Mother as both a description and a defense of the new lifestyle. The book incorporated the thinking of John Cassian, especially on the structure of the religious life as the search for purity of heart and contemplation. The desert spirituality of Mount Carmel was adapted now to an active apostolic life. Henceforth Carmelite spirituality was at home in communities of active religious and lay people as well as cloistered contem-platives. The reform of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross two centuries later built on this document and renewed and perfected the eremitical-contemplative ideal of Carmel. They did so, not only by promoting desert houses of total contem-plative life, but by organizing a way in which every Carmelite house could be, in the words of a great Carmelite of the next century, John of St. Samson, another Mount Carmel. The desert spirituality of Carmel's beginnings had become democratized and available to all who espouse the ideals of the Carmelite tradition. 3 73- --- July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Notes t Christian Meditation and centering prayer are two popular forms of contemplative prayer, designed by John Main OSB and the Trappists at Spencer, Massachusetts, respectively, the former promoted by the World Community of Christian Meditation under Laurence Freeman OSB and the latter by Contemplative Outreach, whose leader is Thomas Keating OCSO. 2 Donal O'Leary, "High Noon at Ghost Ranch," Furrow 52 (January 2001): 27-35. 3 Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), pp. 88-93. 4 Cited from his Desert Solitaire by Thomas J. McCarthy, "The Ultimate Sanctum," America (9 April 2001): 6. s Stephen Bede Sharper, "A New Heaven and a New Earth," Christian Spirituality Bulletin 8 (Fall-Winter 2000): 15. 6 "God's Beloved Creation," America (16 April 2001): 9. 7 "Dark Night as Impasse," in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984). s Conferences, of John Cassian, trans. Colm Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), pp. 37-43. Devotion I am twelve, have read of the child Virgin martyrs, and decide it is High time I practice such virtue. At My next confession, after the usual Childhood sins, I say I want to Vow myself to God like a saint. The Assistant pastor, thinking fast, replies That at present I don't know The vocation God has chosen For me, but I may promise him My chastity until I take that vow, Or those of marriage. Satisfied, I rejoice in God's favor, and Make my promise. Mary Hanson Review for Religious BARBARA ZAJAC Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report For much of the 20th century, sisters who performed charitable service works lived in convents near the institutions they served. As missions and roles changed after the Sister Formation Conference (1950s) and Vatican Council II (1960s), so did the living arrange-ments, often necessitated by travel considerations. Congregations such as these had called themselves "communities" when they held common missions and residences, and they continue to use this term today even though--wearing few or no common ~ymbols, ministering in widely diverse occupations, and residing in locales favorable to their mission assign-ments- many are barely identifiable as members of a group of sisters. Puzzled that this topic received little attention in sociological literature aside from Wittberg's analyses (see Bibliography), I found myself raising several research questions about the meaning of "community." Does it mean a location-based entity? A process? A set of relationships? A task force? A par-ticular goal or ideal toward which people strive? As part of a larger study (Zajac, 1999b), I studied Barbara Zajac first contributed to our pages in 1999. Her current address is Department of Sociology; Indiana State University; Terre Haute, Indiana 47809. July-Aug£ust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living one religious order of apostolic sisters. Though from their founding the group provided chiefly educational and medical services, individual sisters now select their own mission assign-ments, which include traditional teaching and parish pastoral work, professional careers such as psychologist and speech pathologist, and social activism and feeding the homeless and hungry. Throughout California over a two-year period (1995 and 1996), fifty members of this congregation were interviewed indi-vidually and in-depth. Although the sample was volunteer and purposive, it is considered fairly ~:epresentative of the order in general (see Zajac, 1999a). Additional information was obtained from the group's monthly magazinE, religious periodicals, and selected participant observation. The group is given the pseudonym Sisters of Reconciliation of JesusI (SRJ). Similarly, individual names and identifying factors have been disguised or altered. What Community Means It is evident that there is no widespread consensus about the word community. Putting feelings into words was difficult for the sisters, and they responded in words they were comfortable using. Some began with what I would call generalized notions of community, and others described what community involves or how it can be formed and lived. Still others spol~e of mani-festations of community and of how community is maintained. Nearly everyone cited some of the qualities I will describe under manifestations of community. Anything approaching near agreement on most of the gen-eralized notions of community was absent. Some sisters attached the term to a specific location, while others denied the impor-tance of a spatial component. Some described community as an ongoing process that is never completed, or as an ability, agree-ment, or commitment. Others mentioned the people involved and the human connections among them. A number of the sis-ters spoke of community as a bond or tie among people, a togetherness, while others used such phrases as "a living-out of the vows," "a unanimity of vision and purpose," and "the charism [of the Sisters of Reconciliation] lived out." Regarding Review for Religious the often mentioned familial nature of community, there was much disagreement. Some denied that it is a family, some described it as "like" a family, and others claimed that it is "more than" a family. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle, being invested in the group or having a sense of ownership about it. Some explained the factors by which they create for themselves a sense of "community," ger-mane to the can-be-done category. While at least one sister cited similar ministry as the key to community, others thought the key is personal characteristics such as being open to others, try-ing to understand them, and being thoughtful, prayerful, and considerate. Many said that much communication is needed, and a great deal of give-and-take, exemplified in being open to others, trying to understand them, and allowing for the flow of communication, with its misunderstandings, disagreements, and concurrences. Others talked of the mechanisms by which community can be sustained, such as living or working together, "making it happen," or constantly articulating the meanings. The latter suggestions are rather nonspecific, but the next item is quite different. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle. Manifestations of Community Nearly everyone listed one or two qualities in the category called manifestations ofcommunity. A good many used a small number of emotionally laden terms, heartfelt terms: empathy, interconnectedness, sharing. Others used different words, but their intent seemed similar enough that I could not justify putting their statements elsewhere. Examples of this are "living together, not singly" and "working on things together." In this "manifestations" category many talked of the people they encountered, or of the work as being a continual process; some continued an articulation of "what community means to me." Human behaviors and interactions, with their sentiments July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living and attitudes, make up the heart of community. Empathy is expressed especially through concern and caring, through notic-ing and having interest in others. One person termed this a "feeling for" others, and many called it "support." Such senti-ments are displayed in such particular behaviors and actions as showing respect and appreciation or at least acceptance; if not, the reality of the sentiments is questionable. If empathy is pre-sent and expressed, the members of a group develop and main-tain an interconnectedness, an interdependence, a mutual sense of belonging. They develop a social solidarity. Empathy, empathic behavior, and interdependence work together in what is called sharing, which seems to be central. Nearly all the sisters interviewed mentioned the sharing of something, whether faith or prayer, tasks, worldly goods, help-ful services, or expressions of caring support. Sharing faith and the spiritual life was mentioned most frequently, and, along with it, the emotional support this sharing provided. Things like housework, goods, and ministry are shared differently, depending on the specific living arrangements (to be described shortly). The sharing of spirituality and various works rein-forces caring sentiments and behaviors and the sense of being interdependent. It is through sharing even ordinary things that crucial personal connections are created and sustained. Representative Community Groupings Three types of community living groups will be described: a self-named "intentional" community, what I term a residen-tial community, and a community of one. These are composite portraits. They do not describe every type of living situation, but seem representative of the arrangements of active Sisters of Reconciliation. Intentional Community "House of Peace" is the sign next to the doorbell of a large house in a run-down neighborhood of the central city where poverty is endemic and violence is the norm. The home of five SRJs, this intentional:community was formed with express pur-poses in mind. The sisters deliberately chose its location amid Review for Religious widespread desolation in order to identify with and serve the poorest people of the city. The members were selected for their personal and professional qualities, namely, a desire for an intense spiritual life and an unwavering dedication to the mis-sion of the Sisters of Reconciliation in serving the city's need-iest people. There are five regular residents. Sister Elaine Sherman runs a transitional housing program for homeless families. Sister Mary Anne coordinates the sisters' social-justice efforts. Sister Ruth Patrick, retired from a full career of teaching, daily trav-els twenty miles each way to where she cooks and serves meals to transients. Sister Bertina Marie, who is bilingual, is a com-munity activist and pastoral minister in the Spanish-speaking community. Sister Jane Th~r~se, who has not yet taken her final vows in religious life, teaches religion in a local Catholic high school and hopes to study divinity in the future. The house is also the home base of a sister working in a residential house for adolescents and of sisters visiting temporarily from mission lands or elsewhere. Sister Ruth Patrick, the oldest sister and the one longest in the SRJs, was the driving force for starting this new house. She had been aware of the brewing turbulence in religious life since the 1950s and thought then that the sisters ought to be living more adult lives than was possible while rigidly observing detailed rules and daily schedules in sequestered convents. She wanted to live out her own values explicitly, holding prayer in common, sharing with the poor, living very simply, and being concerned about others and accountable to them. And so she looked for sisters that she felt had a strong sense of the SRJ mis-sion and were dedicating their lives to living it. She looked for sisters who knew themselves well and.knew what would equip them well for their ministries. She looked for sisters who were aware of what would personally empower them and what might drain them of apostolic energy. She looked for sisters who were willing to give support to others and to receive it as well. Such sisters she approached with her proposal. Perhaps most important, these women must be open to new forms of prayer such as sharing of the heart rather than recit-ing formulaic prayers at specified hours. This prayer involves common reading of a passage from the Bible' and then individ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ual reflection and comment on what the reading means to each one, how it applies to her own life. It demands a willingness to be open and vulnerable to other people. This sharing of faith and spirituality is not for everyone. Some older sisters, in par-ticular, have been reluctant to engage in it. Now, when a new member wishes to join the house, she comes and talks with the existing group about her hopes and ex.pectations for common life. She learns that, in addition to sharing faith and emotional support, the group divides up the house chores, such as bookkeeping and paying the bills, shopping for food and preparing meals, cleaning and yard work. She learns that she is to live on the allotted personal budget and to reserve some of that money to support foreign missionaries. She learns that "one person's guest is every person's guest" here. Although a sister may dislike or resent such an interview before being admitted to a new house, she needs to remind herself that the present residents consider it crucial that new residents know and agree to support these values and their explicit expression. Sister Elaine, who came to religious life through her vol-unteer work and not directly from her Catholic schooling, explains more about this group's dynamics~ Although they min-ister in diverse fields with varied schedules, they reserve one night a week as their community night, when all will be present for prayer, eating, and sharing. Her social-work background leads her to describe the difficulty of working with people "who are blocked up" by past traumas or interpersonal issues. This form of life, this "microcosm of society," is a difficult life to live. It must enable sisters to go out and minister to the world. They must learn to be communicative and must get to know each other's histories. Since there are various workable arrangements for getting through days cooperatively and smoothly, the sisters must con-tinually strive to accommodate themselves to the others in the group. Sister Elaine thinks that an all-female group can be "really beautiful and powerful or really terrible," depending on how they handle interpersonal relations. The key thing, in her experience, is to keep talking to each other and "not whine." She admits that she had to learn some of these things herself in community living and that it is still sometimes difficult to keep her own "space." She is one of those who prefer not to talk to Review for Religious anyone for a few minutes after arising in the morning, so she now showers at this time to maintain her internal quietude. Pastoral ministry to the poor and immigrant Spanish-speak-ing community is Sister Bertina Marie's specialty. While her day is occupied with teaching English as a second language and running a community center with various offices and activities (Head Start, legal clinic, medical outreach services, and chil-dren's programs), she is an integral member of the House of Peace. Seeking more ways to live out the SRJ vision, charism, and values, its members extend love and hospitality to sur-rounding neighbors. The sisters offer their house as a site for Neighborhood Watch and other meetings. They make sure that flowers are always growing in their yard to symbolize nonvio-lence in a locale where drugs, gangs, and hostilities abound. Sister Bertina Marie stresses the integration of the house goals with individual ministries: all identify with and serve the poor, value deep prayer life in common, and support others with goods and hospitality. Sister Mary Anne, the government-affairs coordinator for the congregation, spends her.time researching, writing, lobby-ing, and educating people about political issues that affect the poor. Working for such structural change where results come slowly if at all is for many an enervating and thankless task. She talks of recognizing one's own needs as well as those of others, and of balancing community life with ministry. She speaks from experience. At one time she held a position that "totally consumed" her. She thought she was in a vocation crisis and should perhaps leave the community. She was so burned out that she" had nothing to give to anyone and did not even want to "bring Jesus" to the people she worked with. An extended retreat, however, provided her with reflection time to realize it was her ministerial position that needed to be changed, not her SRJ affiliation. Now she highly values living with oth-ers who think as she does, all of them giying and getting real emotional and spiritual support. "Community has been a gift to me," she recalls, mention-ing the friends she has made and how they "move together in growth." She says she was one of the first to propose and pio-neer small-group living and that her experience with eight oth-ers proved its value for her. Being honest with each other and .~tuly-August 2002 Zajac * Three Forms of Community Living "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I can be a failure and I'm still loved." sharing their deepest values were what she had been seeking. When all members had the "same thirst for God and the desire to live out a faith life in mission," they found they did not fight over little things, but rather worked them out, a quality that is sometimes missing in residential communities. The youngest member of the House of Peace commun!ty is Sister Jane Th4r~se, thirty-something, planning to take her final vows within a year. She was attracted to this house for sev-eral reasons besides its location near where she teaches religion to inner-city children. She was pleased that there were a vari-ety of ages together there and liked their outreach to the neigh-borhood. As a newer SRJ, she appreciated this group's willingness to work with younger members and pass on wisdom and insight from their experience. Sister Jane Th4r~se cites a sentence to describe the com-munity's value to her, a line from the SRJ constitution: "With the strength that comes from our life together, we turn to serve the world in need." "This was not only memorized," she says, "it was lived." She remarks that the constitution holds that SRJs share "all that we have and are," including personal uncertainties, frailties, and inabilities, all of which she knows firsthand. Before her current ministry she was locked into a miserable sit-uation where she had no power or auth.ority. She says that, although her sisters in this local community were in no position to give her help or even offer constructive criticism, speaking about her difficulties and receiving support in return were cru-cial to her fulfilling that assignment. Such unconditional accep-tance comes from being a member of the community. She says, "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I carl be a failure and I'm still loved." The ability to be vulnerable and to share one another's gifts helps her "to find God active in the world." In addition to these regular residents, House of Peace is also the local community for Sister Mary Kimball, a member of the SRJs of the East Coast. In Califoi'nia to gain experience in a new ministry, she runs a home for truant and delinquent high Review for Religious school girls who show academic or other creative potential. Because this ministerial unit requires her live-in presence, she affiliates with the House of Peace local community. Ordinarily she will be there every Monday evening to share dinner, prayer, and occasional social activities. Being a member of this group keeps her from feeling isolated and abandoned and allows her to give and get support within the context of her commitment to the mission of the SRJs. Residential Community The convent of St. Junipero Serra sits amid a pleasant res-idential neighborhood in the west side of the city. Next to the Catholic church and school, it once housed sisters of the con-gregation responsible for running the school. Now no sisters teach there. Not needed for parish activities, the building is rented to the SRJs for a reasonable fee. The residential com-munity is home to seven SRJs engaged in various ministries; the youngest is in her forties, and two are semiretired. This convent is run by group government, explains Sister William Joseph, who teaches math at Sacred Heart College for Women, established by the SRJs. Group government, originally an experimental form of living, applies now to almost all resi-dential groups and means participatory decision making in mat-ters that involve all members. The group collectively determines the extent of common prayer life, shared meals, other domes-tic activities, and group celebrations. "Respect" and "acceptance" are two words frequently heard in this group because, as one explains, "not all things can be shared well." This group has decided to share morning prayers Mondays through Fridays, and to gather one evening a week to share experiences and discuss the business of the larger con-gregation. They support the large community of sisters at events and serve as a "presence" in the parish. The group evening may be for holiday celebrations or indi-vidual birthdays or religious feast days. At the time of Sister William Joseph's interview in early January, there was a tall dec-orated Christmas tree in the common living room where we talked. She told me that this community would be celebrating its Christmas that evening, exchanging gifts. During the previ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ous week, all were out visiting their families, so a common celebration was postponed. Sister William Joseph was one of those who did not want to break up the convent into smaller residential groups in the 1970s. She has always appreciated the exposure to many other sisters and did not wish to lose contact with those she might not encounter in her ministry or in small-group living. She says she has always had to "stretch herself" for others, but adds that this is part of the commitment they make to each other. Similar is her opinion of all the congregational events this house supports; she really does not care for so many meetings and events, but attends as part of the duty she upholds. Sister Adia Marie Buckley, too, is involved in academics. An administrator at the same college, she speaks about reli-gious- life community a little differently. "Although there must be people with whom one lives and with whom one must main-tain friendly relations," she says, "community extends to much more than this." She explains the kinship sense she feels with the broad congregation of other SRJs in the United States and else-where in the world, and with affiliate members, former mem-bers, and sisters in other orders. Sister Catherine Tivnan, who runs an office at the congre-gational headquarters, explains why she chose this house: "They're kind of middle-of-the-roaders, and I thought I'd fit in with them. I thought this was what I was looking for in peo-ple, for not heavy-duty intensive living, but just a nice, com-fortable place where I would fit in and would be accepted." By "not intensive" she explains that in some places there are peo-ple who "dissect everything and practically have a magnifying glass on everything you say and do." She says she does not mind such psychological probing on occasion, but cannot take a steady diet of it. She gives an example. A sister with whom she used to live would read every article in the Sunday newspaper and then want to discuss it with anyone in the room at the time. Eventually Sister Catherine would explicitly refuse to talk with her. She preferred to look at the paper rather quickly and then move on to other activities like walking by the beach or going to a movie. Sister Elizabeth Conan is a registered nurse and medical instructor who teaches away from home two or three evenings Review for Religious a week. Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a plaid shirt, she tells me that she does less of the cooking for the house than some oth-ers because of her split work schedule. Her family also occupies her attention for about one day a month because of some difficult illness. She loves spending time with her sisters in com-munity, however, including their times of play. She likes to barbecue in good weather, and she says that at times she will just put out a sign-up sheet shortly beforehand, rather than planning everything well in advance. "Dressed to the teeth" was the impression Sister Margaret de Lorca made when I met her in her office at the parish hall. She explains that, coming from an artistic family, she had always enjoyed the use of color in her surroundings, although she did not wear it during many years of teaching in the traditional habit. Working part-time now, Sister Margaret works in religious edu-cation, organizing prayer groups, directing occasional retreats, and providing individual spiritual direction. She tells me that the sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. They initially prayed together in the evenings, but found it too difficult because of their divergent schedules. She contrasts living here in a small group with living in the congregational center, which is home to about a hundred sisters and was her home for two years. Even though residents here have to work to find time to be together, it takes a lot less energy to relate to this group than it would to everyone in the large community. Life was stressful for her there because, in walk-ing down a hallway, she would commonly encounter ten or twelve different people. By the time the tenth person said "How are you, Sister Margaret?" she would be exhausted. She is "not an extrovert," but also "not a strong introvert," so daily relations with six other people are plenty for her. Another member of this group is Sister Margot Monroe, an educational psychologist who does counseling for individ-ual schools and has a private practice for handicapped children. The sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. July-dugv~st 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living Though she loved the children she encountered in her teaching career, she became frustrated by the time required for extracur-ricular events like sports and cheerleading. She wonders if the congregation made a mistake leaving teaching en masse, and thinks the sisters should have taken more risks in starting new schools and programs.' She also expressed her frustration about the church, where "the hierarchy has not accepted our SRJ growth" and women religious are "only tolerated in the church and not really accepted." This leaves her in the painful posi-tion of being more removed from general church affairs than she would like to be. She feels similarly frustrated in her residential community, where not all have grown theologically and personally to the extent she has. Some of the sisters are not accustomed or very open to sharing, which she finds particularly "life-giving." "People can fulfill all their responsibilities," she explains, "and still not share who they really are." Although she tries to encourage certain ones to be more open, she does it in a gen-tle manner. Still, she finds this group to be a little shallow: "I feel I have community with the people I live with, but it's rather superficial. We're nice to each other. Our horarium for the day is not problematic at all, but I wish we had a depth of sharing that would bring us all to a different place." She believes, however, that living in this house is a trade-off. These people are not her best friends, of which she hag a num-ber outside this convent. While she gains depth and stimula-tion from her outside friendships, here she has the freedom and flexibility to come and go as she pleases without making com-mitments for large blocks of personal time and energy. The final resident of this group is also semiretired. Sister Patricia Louise, in her nineties, likes to cook and works in the parish food pantry. She says that "the diversity of ministry now militates against close community life," which they had when all worked together. This way is "harder but healthier"; it keeps people in contact with diverse fields and offers stimulating con-versation. She says: "It used to be that, if you all taught in the same elementary school, your conversation was always about families in the school, problem kids, what was going on in the parish. But this way we also know what is going on at the col-lege, at the high school, and at the hospitals." Review for Religious Despite their interdependence in the common life, how-ever, they are independent about their use of free time. She says that everyone is very "embedded" in what she is doing on her own and that not living with one's best friends is really an advantage. She adds that she never wanted a residence that was "like a hotel" and prefers the interdependence she finds here. Even though these women do not have "a lot of involvement with each other, what they do has value." A Community of One Sister Zo~ Warnercalls herself "a community of one" because no other sisters live or work with her and she does not have weekly contact with members of her congregation. Fifteen years ago she went out on her own with the blessing of the com-munity (but no funding) to create St. Martin's Children's Center, a temporary residential and resource center for children in fam-ilies undergoing major upheavals in their lives. Like an available set of grandparents, this center can care for up to fifteen chil-dren for a maximum of thirty days each, although the staff tries to restrict it to fewer children and shorter periods of time. Sister Zo~ lived in this large residence with a dog as her sole com-panion while the structure underwent remodeling and opera-tions eventually got underway, and she still lives there. Her purpose in inhabiting the building before its operation was to become a "presence" in the town and to begin to get a "community focus" on the center. She is referring not to the SRJ community now, but to the neighborhoods, businesses, and voluntary groups which support the center's activities. Her strat-egy evidently worked, because, as people came to know her and her plans, they wanted to participate and give support in vari-ous ways. One measure of that support is financial. Sister Zo~ "lives on faith" to provide the center's operating expenses of almost a half million dollars a year, because it has no regular income. Contributions tend to be sporadic yet somehow ade-quate for their needs. She says: "The Lord provides when we need it. from the little things to the big things . We just watch the mailbox and say our prayers. We have never run out of money or closed our doors due to lack of funds." Although she hopes to obtain the services of a part-time grant writer later July-Auffust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being." this year, she has done this and all other duties herself, includ-ing caring for the children and teaching life skills to the parents. Although a few Sisters of Reconciliation have come to work with her for brief periods over the years, Sister Zo~ now sees none of them frequently. Yet her connection to the SRJs is strong, and "our sisters., very much know I'm a community member." She explains that her SRJ area superior holds general gatherings three or four times a year and maybe a day of prayer once in a while. By participating in these activities and attend-ing the funerals of older sisters, Sister Zo~ carries the SRJ charism with her and uses it to create a sense of community with whomever she is working: "There's something I have learned., that, no matter where you go, you bring the sisters with you or you bring your experience of community." In addition to SRJ gatherings and ministry associates, Sister Zo~ has a couple of good friends she sees regularly. One of these is a nun from another congregation; the other is a priest friend. This little group frequently celebrates Sunday Mass in the residence of the non-SRJ, and they sometimes follow it with a potluck dinner, occasionally bringing in other friends or neigh-bors. She had to create this new sense of community herself, however, and she attributes this ability to her long-standing experiences with the SRJs: "By coming out here, community wasn't provided for me. I had to create it, and I used the skills, the tools, the experiences that I had had for all those years. to create a life that was community-oriented. But I had to take the reins and take the initiative and have it happen." Would she like more contact with other SRJs? She says that, although she does not require it, she would welcome another sis-ter if one were to want to live and work with her, and perhaps this new person would help care for her when she gets "old." She emphasizes, "Community is not based on the number of times you see people, but on the feelings and interests to see, hear, and share with others." She also takes he~" identity as an SRJ seriously, having followed the advice of her novice mistress never to abbre-viate the word sister, but always to write it out as part of her name Review for Religious and identity. Sister ZoE puts this together with her feelings about community: "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being, and I am a Sister of Reconciliation." "Good" and "Bad" Community Some sisters gave examples of either "good" or "bad" com-munity experiences, which sometimes held more feeling than the brief descriptive words suggest. One sister said that real community spirit was truly shown when her very good friend died suddenly. She received about a hundred sympathy cards, which told her that the loss of this friend was about more than "my private grief." Another sister described spending some time at a residential therapeutic community for religious congrega-tions. The therapy included the sharing of their life stories, a "first" for this particular sister, where the sharing of those "sad and joyful feelings" created a strong bond within the group. Still another told of the difficult period when she lost her job because of organizational restructuring, but still had had the full support of the community: "I was very glad I was a com-munity woman because otherwise I would have had to get a lawyer. In community I just shared what happened, and they journeyed with me through it." Sister MaryJoyce described her experiences in one of the first experimental communities of group government in 1969. In this new group for which everyone had volunteered, there were between ten and fifteen sisters at various times over several years, and they were trying out new approaches to teaching as well as living. This situation was "life-giving": the participants were all "high energy" types and risk takers as well. They all cared for each other and the outside world, and were concerned about where people were with God, faith, and prayer. Sister Kathryn Ann described something similar. When her ministry took her away from others in her own order, she lived in an apartment house that people came to call The Nunnery because in addition to herself there were six sisters from another con-gregation, a priest, and a brother, all in individual apartments. Although they "lived singly" and ministered in different places, they got together frequently for prayer, meals, and Mass, often signaled by a knock on the wall. July-Angvtst 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living 3.90 Sister Mary Magdalene has had her share of feeling less than appreciated by other SRJs, yet had a wonderful experience when she lived in a rural area with three other sisters, all teachers, who endured together the crisis of the school's closing. Although one of them was the principal of the school and also the supe-rior of the convent, they interacted as equals and "were just peo-ple together," frequently cooking and sharing meals on the weekends in an era when most convents still had cooks. Although they were together in the school, they also spent outside time together, but "it wasn't mandated. It was a choice we were mak-ing." This relaxed atmosphere where everyone's talents were recognized was contributed to by a pastor who was supportive and friendly and occasionally took them all out to dinner. Another sister, Sister Peg, described an aspect of her first job as a hospital chaplain. Living in an apartment across the street from the hospital, she provided hospitality for visiting sisters and especially those recuperating from surgery or illness. The informality and spontaneous "ease with which the sisters moved in and out of my life" was an exciting and fulfilling period. These positive experiences of community do not necessar-ily require other sisters or vowed people. Sister Benita Rogers shared one such experience when she was leaving an ethnically mixed parish that she had brought together over a number of years. Addressing a large parish group, Sister Benita, who does not speak Spanish, expressed her desire that perhaps now the diocese would assign a bilingual person as her replacement. A Hispanic man stood and spoke for the group: "It doesn't mat-ter whether or not you can speak Spanish. You have the corazon, the heart. That's how you've communicated. You've read us with your heart." It is the major congregational gatherings, however, that sev-eral sisters cited as the "best expression" of community spirit. One of these celebrations is the Congregational Days, when all sisters from the West come together with former sisters as well as affiliate members to celebrate the SRJs as a whole. The other is the jubilee celebration, held anr~ually on the feast day of their patron. Families and friends are invited to participate in the joyful celebration of the anniversaries of their vows as Sisters of Reconciliation. Among these hundreds of people there is a won- Review for Religious derful "spirit that you can almost touch." Everyone feels a part of this group energy and spirituality. It leads people to say that "the most profound experience of community is to experience us praying together." Although Sister Rafaela says she "has never had a bad com-munity experience," this is not the case for many sisters. Sisters described instances where they felt alienated, isolated, or at least not fully appreci-ated in the community, both in their local group and in the larger group. Often the difficulty stemmed from some-one's personality or behavior. When people are too busy to notice others or care about what they are undergoing, those others can feel "deadened" and not supported, making them withdraw from the group. On the other hand, those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. These people are usually those who have "not done their home-work" regarding their own interpersonal issues. Sometimes, carrying unresolved emotional traumas from their early life, they attempt to hide with the aid of alcohol, a too busy sched-ule, or emotional distancing of others. When people are "afraid of their own spirituality" or are "not willing to be honest" with each other, communal sharing and support are undermined from the start. Sometimes there is a plain lack of openness to others. Sister Joan Claire Mendoza described such a case. She lives in a large convent with eight or nine other sisters, four of whom work in the attached school, while the rest work in various other min-istries. They are together for morning Mass and one evening dinner per week. Although these sisters are "polite" to Sister Joan Claire, it is clear to her that they really do not want her there. Three of them maintain very close relations and actually "make up their own community." Fortunately, Sister Joan Claire has developed a personal and professional network of friends and colleagues from whom she receives most of her emotional Those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. -201 --- . J~dy-dugust 2002 Zajac " Three Forms of Community Living sustenance. Another sister described a similar case. She felt so rejected that she was "not even sure she was still an SRJ." Others expressed their isolation when they felt that their talents, gifts, or ministry were not appreciated. If community members remain or act unaware or. uninformed about them and their work, those living in common as well as those minister-ing on their own can be affected. Sometimes the personalities of the people living together are too divergent or their schedules too diverse to allow for harmonious living. Highly divergent worldviews in people can also make daily life uncom-fortable. In other instances a quiet person is misconstrued to be someone quite alien to her real self. One sister said she had been surprised to learn that her housemates had thought she was very self-confident and did not need any help or support. In another convent she had been perceived as a threat to others because she had more education than most of the others. The biggest obstacle to community, however, one sister said, occurs when people do not maintain confidences. This causes a shat-tering of trust and pushes people back to isolation. A few sisters expressed frustration or anger with the com-munity at large. One told of an instance when her mother was dying. Although everyone knew about this, there was little inter-est, caring, or support shown. Another sister said that several years ago she was angry with the general community for giving financial support to a foreign political group that she thought was wrong. Another sister said that sometimes lack of equality really bothered her. Because of her age she had been denied permission to study for an advanced degree, yet in that very year three sisters older than herself were approved and funded for graduate education. When this woman protested this as unjust, she received an apology from the president of the con-gregation, but still no approval for further study. In this article we have examined how sisters in one reli-gious community define and create "community." There is lit-tle general consensus about the term, although some common values are evident. In general, all agree that something must be shared and that there is a feeling of interdependence or inter-connectedness. How and what things are shared, however, varies according to the type of living group that is chosen. Individual Review for Religious sisters' stories were interwoven here into three composite pic-tures of community living: intentional community, residential community, and a community of one. Also, some examples of what creates "good" and "bad" community were given. The various types of community exist in various circum-stances and are experienced in various ways by individual sisters. There seems to be no one right way. There is a considerable diversity of views, activities, roles, and living arrangements. This diversity contrasts strongly with the pre-Vatican II con-vents, with their physical proximity to the apostolic work the sis-ters did, their thorough discipline, and their homogeneity of life conditions. Note ~ I later discovered that this was the original European name of a congregation now in the United States with a different name. Bibliography Beane, Marjorie Noterman. 1993. From framework to freedom: A history of the Sister Formation Conference. New York: University Press of America. Eby, Judy, RSM. 2000. "A little squabble among nuns"? The Sister Formation crisis and the patterns of authority and obedience among American women religious, 1954-1971. Unpublished doc-toral dissertation, Saint Louis University. Emerson, Robert M., ed. 1983. Contemporary field research: A collec-tion of readings. Prospect Heights, Illinois: Waveland Press. Merton, Robert K., Marjorie Fiske, and Patricia L. Kendall. 1990. The focused interview: A manual of problems and procedures. New York: Free Press. Powdermaker, Hortense. 1960. Stranger and friend: The way of an anthropologist. New York: W.W. Norton. Quifionez, Lora Ann, CDP, and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN. 1992. The transformation of American Catholic sisters. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Vatican Council H: The conciliar and postconciliar documents and More postconciliar documents. 1975, 1982. Edited by Austin Flannery OP. Northport, New York: Costello Publishing Co. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. 1990. Dyads and triads: The sociological impli-cations of small-group living arrangements. Review for Religious 43, no. 1 (January-February): 43-51. July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Li~ing ¯ 1993. Residence stability and decline in Roman Catholic reli-gious orders of women: A preliminary investigation. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 32: 76-82. Zajac, Barbara. 1999a. Becoming a nun: A general model of entering religious life. Review for Religious 58 (July-August): 403-423. --. 1999b. Community suicide: Secularization in Catholic nuns with the manipulation of ritual and symbol. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of California, Riverside. Wounded The unseen spider ripped my flesh, and drew blood, nourishment, afresh, and left a black-red crater there: pink, puffy, filled with pus - not fair. A round wound one inch wide oozing fluid down the side. I've been a meal for a foreign beast, stamped with a bump, a spider's feast. This tiny spider sucked sustenance from me, drew life, left a mark, for all to see - how dare he! Am I any different? Don't I do the same? Feed on the Christ, wound him, without shame? Michael J. Lydon Reviev; for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Expert Practitioners of Union in Community Once upon a time community was uncomplicated, ever a delight in which to witness and work, a constant joy to be and build. Beg your pardon! Are we talking about reality here? Yes, but only by flashback to the language and imagery of a different era. Let me explain. In researching various writings on religious community--most of them published from the 1930s to the early 1960s--I wondered if the lived experience of community during those decades matched the somewhat romantic and idealistic rhetoric about it. I decided that it prob-ably did not; rather, the rhetoric offered encouragement and hope as supports for the lived experience. Religious knew then and continue to experience now the complexity of community life. The word community itself has a complex meaning. It means more than religious living in the same residence. We know that community members may be scattered across cities and even across continents. Another facet includes the personalities and perspectives of the members. Similarity and unanimity are no guarantee that a community is healthy and thriving or even that the members know one another more than superficially. Community encompasses the members' cultures and customs and their ages and attitudes. And so we can ask: How do we recognize one another as members of the Joel Giallanza CSC last wrote for us in May-June 2000. His address is Province Center; 1101 St. Edward's Drive; Austin, Texas 78704. July-August 2002 Giallanza ¯ Expert Practitioners of Union community? Community also encompasses the unique heritage and history of each religious institute and the cast of charac-ters who have lived that heritage and been a part of that history. And there are our own experiences in life and ministry. The complexity of religious community does not diminish its potential for living up to the rhetoric of earlier eras. In truth, it has all the potential with which humanity was invested by God at creation. And yet, when we discuss the many factors currently influencing religious life, the task of formulating an all-encompassing definition or description of community is quite daunting and sometimes discouraging. This perception, this temptation to invest less time and energy in such discus-sions, can have a detrimental effect on the quality of community we hope to build for the future. These present reflections are intended to resist that temptation and to encourage continu-ing efforts to form and live and sustain community. Forming Community In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (hereafter VC), Pope John Paul II writes: "Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion as 'witnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design'" (§46). This is a significant challenge; to be "true experts" at almost anything in our world is a considerable achievement. Being expert practitioners in the spirituality of communion calls for more. John Paul's understanding of communion is incarna-tional: communion does not exist apart from those who strive to live it daily. The etymology of the word "expert" provides an important insight. Often the term is used in a static way, indicating an acquired ability needing little if any further development. The root meaning, however, is quite dynamic: an expert is one who tries and who learns by trying. As a person's ability matures, there are always new approaches to try and new things to learn. The words experiment and experience have the same root. One way, then, of becoming experts in communion is through our experiments and experiences in community. We must keep try-ing and keep learning. Community is never finished. Review f

Issue 60.2 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Making Connections Livin g S p i r i tu ally C o,mmunjty Living Refl:ections MARCH APRIL 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 2 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to boliness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms :of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis Universi .t-y by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° \Veb site: u~'w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary'~ Seminaw; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Perlnission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) coutained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law, All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm ¯ Judy Sharp " James and Joan F~lling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos AI Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg sC MARCH APRIL 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 2 118 139 Feeding the Beast: Postmodern Anxiety and Generational Challenges Christopher Robinson CM reflects on the question "Who are you and what do you mean?" asked by a postmodern consciousness or sensibility. Community and Communion: Making the Connections Doris Gottemoeller RSM presents four dimensions of a powerful analogy between Eucharistic life and religious community life that sheds light on both and shows between them a common spirituality. 152 Contemplatiori to Attain Love: A Paradigm for Apostolic Prayer Gerald M. Fagin sJ explains the four points of the final exercise in the Ignatian Exercises as a description of the prayer of an active minister. 162 What to Know about Discernment Ernest E. Larkin OCarm provides a succinct explanation of the cognitive, affective, and mystical ways of evaluating our experiences which we identify as discernment. Review for Religious 171 179 Apostolic Community in the Assumptionist/Augustinian Tradition John L. Franck AA sees, with St. Augustine, that religious communities work to shape our very lives and thus our very work in the world. Mission and Community in the Neighborhood: A Personal Reflection Catherine M. Harmer MMS shares her experience of being a religious community m(rnber living and participating in the community and ministry of neighborhoods. 187 196 201 Taking the Psalms to Heart Francis Dorff OPraem walks us reflectively through St. Romuald's Brief Rule so that we may live the psalms wholeheartedly. The Cross of Auschwitz: A Lenten Reflection Dennis J. Billy CSSR enters us into the silence of Auschwitz and its mystery of evil met by the mystery of the cross. The World Will Be Saved by Beauty Joan L. RoccasalvoCSJ revives, in ways both simple and subtle, an awareness of, a yearning for, the several transcendentals that have their warm, bright oneness in God. epzr me s 116 Prisms 206 Canonical Counsel: Incorporation into an Institute of Consecrated Life or a Society of Apostolic Life 212 Book Reviews March-April 2001 As John Paul II closed the holy doors at St. Peter's in Rome on January 6, the day that the Jubilee of the Year 2000 ended, he issued an apostolic letter titled "At the Beginning of the New Millennium." Similar to the apostolic letter issued in November 1994, "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," this letter challenges all Catholic people in the everyday practice of their faith. The pope acknowledges that in the first letter it was easy to name specific themes and suggest certain practices as he outlined a program of preparation for us Catholics as we looked towards the new millennium. Now that we are living in the new millennium, it appears more difficult to suggest some sort of schedule for a seemingly unending roll of future years. Not to be daunted, the pope sums up his approach in his call to contemplate the face of Christ, with the manifold ways that this face appears to us in all life's circumstances. He grants that he is not inventing some kind of new program, but rather looking afresh at the program found in the Gospels and in the living tradition of the church. What receives strong emphasi~ is the pope's desire for us to make our own a spirituality of communion. This phrase, spirituality of communion, the pope had identified in his 1994 ap6stolic letter, Vita consecrata, as describing the mission especially appropriate to Review for Religious members of consecrated-life institutes. No matter the charism that specifies the mission of particular religious lifeforms, the pope had requested that all men and women vowed in conse-crated life embrace a spirituality of communion. Religious were encouraged to consciously work at a communion spirituality as an essential part of the gospel spirituality which all share. This spir-ituality of communion needs to inform their community life and their mission. By his extension of the call to a spirituality of communion to others, John Paul II has not taken away his invitation to those living the consecrated lifeform to be grounded in a spirituality of communion. Proclaiming now that all Catholics have a respon-sibility to work at developing this spirituality of communion for our times, the pope underlines a special charge for those vowed in consecrated life to both educate and form others in the Catholic community to understand and live this spirituality of communion. He tells us that this effort will make the church "the home and school of communion." Such creative energy is a spirituality that enhances our awareness of the trinitarian God dwelling within us and embracing us with a divine life of communion. It is a spirituality that makes come alive our real-ization of the mystical Body in which we see our brothers and sisters truly living a life that is "part of us." It is a spirituality that brings us to see and appreciate the gifts of others not only as gifts from God to them, but also as gifts from God and them to us. It is a spirituality that teaches us how to make room for all our brothers and sisters, so that we truly exclude no one from the table of God our Father and accept what it means to bear one another's burdens. What is so often lacking in the services that are provided secularly (and perhaps we need to examine our own ministries too) is not the actual "body'-' of services but the "soul" people must put into those services. We must take any "mechanisms" of service and put a soul into them, a soul that gives them full meaning through fullness of communion. In a postmodern culture, a wise and holy man has proposed linking our Catholic growth in holiness with the special needs of our new millennium. The spirituality of communion he proposes is a privileged and relevant way of imitating Jesus, our incarnate and redeeming Lord. David L. Fleming Sy March-April 2001 CHRISTOPHER ROBINSON Feeding the Beast: Postmodern Anxiety, and Generational Challenges A little story in Charles Lamert's 1997 book on post-modernism seems pertinent to many current discussions on the past, present, and future of religious life: One fine morning the residents of a small village woke to find a very big but not unfriendly beast well settled in the center of their small town and mundane lives. Being by nature trusting and kind, the people repressed fear and welcomed the beast. In spite of its enormous height and girth, and the mass of its settled flesh, the beast posed no threats. All he did, in the most matter-of-fact way, was say "Feed me." The villagers complied. Upon devour-ing what he had been fed, he simply repeated his demand, without inflection, "Feed me." Eventually, without vote or complaint, feeding the beast came to be what the village was about.' Concern about the future of religious life and its unique contribution to the church has been around for as long as I can remember. It has become, for some of us, an all-too-real version of the village beast. Let me try to clarify just exactly what I mean. In the preface of her recent book Finding the Treasure, Sandra Schneiders says that "virtually every Christopher Robinson CM is completing a doctorate at Louvain with a focus on the theology of religious life. His address is Leopold I Straat 41; B-3000 Leuven; Belgium. Review for Religious question raised today leads directly into the issue of what religious life is and means.''2 The questions I raise here are directly related to what religious life actually is, as distinct from what religious may do. The question of meaning is related, as Schneiders shows, to the pervasive postmodernism in Western industrial countries. At least in the United States, this has affected the young people; they have been socialized from birth with a postmodern consciousness. Whether or not religious life in the West continues depends upon having a plausible description of it that is intelligible to those who are significantly affected by this consciousness. My hope is that either we can befriend these questions of being and meaning, our village beast, without constantly serving it or we can actually turn the tables. The village beast might be capable of feeding us. .What Is Our Village Beast? In the context in which I found it, the story of the not-unfriendly lumbering beast refers to the effect that some ques-tions of meaning have upon the people who entertain them: "Before long, it grows to become that which preoccupies, even defines, the villages.''3 Today many of us are preoccupied with the nature and meaning of religious life. The question of who we are and what meaning we offer to the church and the world is not a non-friendly one, even if it is consuming our energies. It is not non-friendly because postmodernism, the sensibility operative in the West, is not by its nature hostile. Though postmodernism has been defined in many ways and will continue to present itself as a sensibility worth studying, here I wish to highlight its more pos-itive attributes without discounting negative ones. Postmodernism is playful, it deligt]ts in the unique, it is non-linear. It is suspicious of universals and of supposed evolutionary trajectories that are bound to arrive at bigger and better things. For it, there is no self-evident center of all meaning. Postmodern sen-sibility distrusts global institutionalization and celebrates nonuni-formity. Intrinsically pluralistic, it rejects exclusivist claims and triumphalist truth statements. Schneiders emphasizes three postmodern characteristics that are necessary for locating religious life in the contemporary con-text. She says that postmodernism is "a child of and a protest against modernity.''4 In other words, postmodern sensibility rejects the unifying yet reductionist approach of modernity that subjects March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast reality to what can be proven, manipulated, or categorized by an objective scientific method. Postmodernism is radically conscious of how science has both enhanced human life and brought enor-mous risks to it and the environment. It insists that modernity has not lived up to its claims of creating a better world through rationality. Second, Schneiders points out that the postmodern con-sciousness has eroded or simply refused to acknowledge the foun-dations upon which many modern projects have risen: "Who is to say that any construction of reality, any set of beliefs or mode of behavior, has universal validity and therefore any claim on me?''s On the negative side, this position means that postmodern thought is relativistic. On the positive side, postmodern thought has effec-tively eroded the foundations of ethnic hatred, anthropocentrism, sexism, and so forth. Third, postmodernism rejects the idea that there is a grand story, a metanarrative, that can provide universal meaning for all people of all times in all places. The metanarrative purports to present the ideal of what all people should be; persons who are not in the story are hounded until they come around to the group's way of thinking. Postmodernism's suspicion of the grand story subverts such use of force to make all people over into a general-ized image, an image devoid of particularity or difference. On the negative side, postmodern consciousness may produce alienation because no acceptable common story bridges the distances between people.6 Meaning and Being Our village beast is more complicated than the brief question "Who are you and what do you mean?" The beast is this ques-tion as asked by a postmodern consciousness or sensibility. The question threatens because many religious congregations and communities (if not all) are firmly rooted in modernity, not post-modernity. Consequently, the beast appears threatening but is not unfriendly. The postmodern question is really not unfriendly because postmodernism is not necessarily antagonistic and may be favor-able. For example, postmoderns are captivated by the unusual, and what could be more unusual in the contemporary world than a life characterized by celibacy? Postmoderns reject the negative Review for Religious and sometimes disastrous effects of metanarratives because meta-narratives envision all people as the same. Religious men and women have a similar view that often puts them on the margins of society for rejecting metanarrative rhetoric that would keep the alienated far from the resources they require for self-actual-ization and fulfillment. Such rhetoric includes the opinions that "if they would only work hard enough they wouldn't be poor" and "if they would stay at home and have children they wouldn't be harassed." Particularly in the Western world, certainly in the history of the United States, religious communities have consis-tently promoted human well-being through education, healthcare, and social service regardless of the creed of those receiving assistance. What could be more postmodern than that? Religious often find themselves in prophetic positions in relation to the univer-sal church. Such elements of decentralization are, in a way, the human side of the gospel message lived out through the charisms of particular communities made up of particular persons. The explicit goal, obviously, is not to decentralize the church. But the human face, voice, and touch provided by dedicated religious create a space in which people hear the gospel in unique and specific ways. Such efforts and understandings of decentralization are postmodern. So what is the problem? The postmod-ern phenomenon has entered our lives and, in a manner neither unfriendly nor always unattractive, asks: Who are you and what do you mean? The problem is that we continue to feed the beast, this lumbering postmodern.collection of con-tradictor~ images, with rationalizations that stem from modernity. Of course, feed it or not, it is not going to go away. The beast story describes the lives of the villagers as mun-dane. Postmoderns have critiqued modernity for exactly that, being boring and mundane. Universals are boring. Nondifferentiation has no room for distinctive and entertaining attributes. Whether or not the perception is true, the postmodern West sees religious men and women as being just like everyone else, and so we are largely Postmodernism rejects the idea that there is a grand story, a metanarrative, that can provide universal meaning for all people of all times in all places. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast invisible. We have done a good job of assimilating and affirming the world. We live individual lives in individual ways in individual spaces. Postmodernism consciously ignores anything that is "the same" in favor, of the new, distinct, unusual, entertaining, distracting, and so forth. There is a dangerous .and antihuman element to this that includes consumerism, materialism, trivial distraction. There is also something of positive value. I have not claimed and would not and cannot claim that, because of postmodern consciousness, religious need to create distinctive-lifestyle enclaves that provoke the curiosity and interest of the others in society. To keep the postmodern sensi-bility entertained, we would have to have general chapters and assemblies adopting new gimmicks every six months. The question of our invisibility is, however, a serious one. Because postmod-ernism disdains rationalistic answers, seeing them as dank mush-rooms emerging from metanarratives, it is not going to wait for an explanation from us about our lifestyle. As soon as a religious begins, "Well, you have to understand that once upon a time the Second Vatican Council created a spirit of openness to the world that we as religious had forgotten," the postmodern mind closes down. Even for the educated young adult Catholic, Vatican II is "that great thing that happened sometime in the middle of the last century. Have you read it? The language is hopelessly gender exclusive." The revolutionary event that altered the course of religious life is now considered a metanar-rative from a time long past. Add to this that the same Vatican is now the source of documents like DominusJesus that remind every-one that there is only one true and universal Christian church. " Truth claims aside, such statements sound to the postmodern mind like metanarratives. Postmodernism is fast paced and will not wait for us to explain endlessly our being and meaning through solemn discourses, province plans, and mission statements. This is particularly true when the observable reality does not live up to the written ideology. We appear as more of "the same." Modernity Is Still Operational There is a certain logic to keeping our roots in modernity. First, our charisms, congregations, communities, and reforms are based on great stories, not the least of which are the gospel nar-ratives. Second, it is Vatican II that ushered us into the modern Review for Religious world. Ironically, it did so just as the world was on the brink of postmodernity. The call to return to the charism of the founder resulted in a great deal of historical research and theological reflection. Much of this was dependent upon the historical-crit-ical method that typifies modernity. Third, through our com-mitted lives we are striving in God's name to make the world a better place for everyone and everything. Without nuance this can be translated by radical postmoderns into a universalizing, nonparticularizing amalgamation of all peo-ple into one standard of living, one creed, and one political system. So the village beast that has lumbered into our midst is the postmodern question of being and meaning. It is a not-unfriendly thing, but it is a very intimidating, beastly thing. From the modernist perspective, reli-gious and their communities have welcomed the beast into their villages. It has been ana-lyzed, considered, weighed, measured, and .continuously fed with the best sociological, historical, and systematic information in the hope that it will remain docile or maybe even go away. But our numbers continue to shrink, morale among the membership is precarious, and questions about our congregations; future often preoccupy at least some of us. The popular perception today might be that feeding this beast is what we are all about. It seems we have'not found a solid faith-based solution to the vocation crisis through the human sciences--which, to the modern mind, have always served humanity well. Postmodernism is a sensibiiity. The West itself still operates according to the rationalism of the modern era and will most likely continue to do so, with some revision. And so we religious are challenged to find our own methods of drawing together the best of both expressions of reality: postmodern sensibility and the dependability of a reformed modernity. This is not as difficult as we may imagine--given our access to resources, the security of our traditions, the creativity among us, and the presence of the Spirit of God, who called us into being in the first place. The challenge, however, is to discover how the village beast, the ques-tion of being and meaning, has begun to create internal conflicts The village beast that has lumbered into our midst is the postmodern question of being and meaning. t23 -o- ~lqarcb-Aptql 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast within congregations and communities, particularly between moderns and postmoderns. The Village Beast Is a Member of the Community The postmodern questions about meaning and being will not simply disappear. There are two ways of dealing with the ques-tions, two ways of feeding and befriending the village beast. Oversimplifying for brevity's sake, I would say that postmodernism is present in religious life in two different forms. Religious over forty have assimilated surprising amounts of postmodern sensi-bility, and religious under forty were practically born with a post-modern consciousness. Accordingly, many believe that the vocation crisis is a solvable problem while others see it as a sign that reli-gious life is incomplete or inadequate for the present age. These are modern assessments. We are working against ourselves if we seek answers in modernity when we ourselves have assimilated or have been socialized by postmodern sensibilities. We will not accept modern answers if we are postmoderns ourselves. Community leadership, usually held by persons over forty, seeks modern rational avenues for vocation initiatives or charism rein-terpretation while living mostly postmodern lives themselves. Being born into the postmodern culture is distinct from assim-ilating it. Se~in D. Sammon FSM, in his "Last Call For Religious Life," expresses well the internal and external collisions occurring in religious life between Baby Boomers and the Thirteeners, those who constitute the thirteenth generation produced by the United States.7 Others have referred to this cohort as Generation X or Gen-X, although Thirteeners is a more accurate term for those born between 1961 and 1981. Identifying the tensions that exist between generations is, I believe, as important as identifying the darker side of the postmodernism that has crept into religious life through assimilation. Postmodernism as Assimilated The Future of Religious Life in the United States (FORUS), a study by Miriam Ukeritis CSJ and David Nygren CM, alerted congre-gations to many things, two of which I will emphasize here. First, the data showed that many individual religious have attitudes and lifestyles, values and behaviors, that reflect cultural assimilation. Review for Religious This cultural assimilation is not necessarily indicated by the clothes we wear or the style of housing we have adopted, but it is observable in attitudes. The individualism indicated by the FORUS data in areas of career, self-determination, and affective-support systems reflects current postmodern sensibilities. Many religious find that their ministerial careers, whether parochial, diocesan, or institutional, require dedication and energy that prevent their participation in projects and activities within their congregation,s Their primary relationships begin to reflect their ministerial setting. In this, Baby Boomers and Thirteeners share a similar postmodern attitude. Sammon notes, "Most Thirteeners feel that the people with whom you have day-to-day contact and share meaningful conversations and a sense of closeness consti-ruie family. They trust their friendships over all other relation-ships.'' 9 FORUS indicates that day-to-day contact with their community is, for many, minimal or nonexistent. Assimilation is not necessarily a good or a bad element pre-sent in contemporary religious life. It is data. The interesting thing to consider, I think, is that many religious over the age of forty have accepted various attitudes and lifestyles that reflect postmodern culture and yet continue to live under a rule that assumes only the modern. For example, religious who live alone and work diligently within a nontraditional ministry might, in spite of efforts, find it difficult to follow various aspects of their constitutions, such as communal prayer, daily Eucharist, annual retreat, and general chapters. True to postmodern sensibilities, the same religious might also defend their right to exercise their ministry in ways that elude strict modern principles. They do not abide by their constitutions or statutes or provincial norms with exactitude because, in their assessment of their specific ministerial context, it simply cannot be done. In other words, the postrnodern question "What are you and what do you mean?" cannot simply be answered by handing over the constitutions. Members of teaching communities (founded to teach the chil-dren of immigrants) who are now pastoral administrators cannot point handily to a founding story to explain their doing this particular ministry. The members each have different, unique stories that are loosely connected to their community's charism as reinterpreted by its mission statement over the past twenty or forty years. This, in my view, is evidence o.f postmodern assimilation. I25-- Marcb-Ap~ql 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding. the Beast L Postmodernism as Culturally Intuited Add to this the complicated problem of generational corn-munication. What those over forty have assimilated through expe-rience and reflection, those born after 1961 know intuitively. Their entire way of interacting with the world is steeped in postmod-ernism. Sammon clarifies this issue when discussing the current tensions between the Baby Boomer generation and Thirteeners: Many midlifers judge Thirteeners to be a disappointing ¯ bunch: ill-informed, intellectually dull, politically inactive, religiously conservative, and hopelessly materialistic. [Thirteener~] have grown tired of hearing their foiebears take credit for things they believe their elders did not do: invent rock and roll, start the civil-rights movement, stop the war in Vietnam, reform the Catholic Church single-hand-edly with Vatican II. The vast majority of Thirteeners ques-tion the self-perception of a number of boomers that they and their middle-aged compatriots have been the most creative, idealistic, morally conscious generation in the his-tory of the nation and church, if not the world.~° Those in midlife have assimilated certain postmodern sensi-bilities without having been to the manner born. This is why their sense of individualism and meaning can be distinguished from that of Thirteeners. Many midlife religious, looking back on their for-mative years with love-hate nostalgia, may find themselves won-dering why their younger compatriots have not had to work very hard to get to where they are: The latter were not put through rigorous formation practices, tests of blind obedience in trivial matters, the wearing of strange garb; they have not feared the imposition of some penance for having a particular friendship as we were! Such memories and ~eflections would indicate, to a degree, the older generation's dependence upon a grand story or metanarrative. The younger generation have not "earned their place"!--which is an assessment based on modern values, not post-modern ones. On the other hand, midlifers, with their assimilated postmodernism, refuse to alter certain lifestyle patterns that appear to be departures from the constitutional religious life they still see value in. Thirteeners are genuinely suspicious of any all-encompass-ing story that is supposed to somehow explain reality for them: What lies behind this aversion is [Thirteeners'] opposition to the sixties idealism of their older brothers and sisters. Young people of the 1960s won many gains for those who previ- Review for Religious ously had no voice. The decade failed, however, to achieve its promises. One generation's gains eventually became the losses of another. With their high ideals, baby boomers (born between 1943 and 1960) undertook organized social actions--but with what results for the generation that followed? An AIDS epidemic rather than sexual liberation; nuclear anxiety rather than peace; skyrocketing college tuition instead of low-cost education. Xers quickly came to the conclusion that they had been left with a culture in crisis,n Tension and Deeper Irony There is yet a deeper irony contained within this tension. Efforts in the 1960s to raise social consciousness were truly suc-cessful. Now it is quite common for parishes and parochial and public schools to engage in ~fforts on behalf of the poor and dis-possessed, the underrepresented populations, and also to be con-scious of global justice issues. The irony inherent in this dynamic is simple: Thirteeners are not interested in religious life for the good works the previous generation did accomplish and still strives to accomplish. Their postmodern minds and hearts take their awareness of the need for ecohuman well-being for granted and assume that efforts for such well-being will continue. What the Thirteeners want and seek is the spirituality and the communal life that have consistently been the essential meaning of conse-crated religious life, whether contemplative, monastic, mendicant, or apostolic. Sammon says, "Xers ultimately have a yearning, both implic-idy and explicitly, for an almost mystical encounter with the human and the divine. They find the religious more readily in personal experience and regard their own experience as superior to the accounts of others or truths handed down by way of creed or cus-tom.'' 12 A ramification of this sensibility is that Thirteeners who are currently members of or interested in some religious congre-gation remain or join because 'of who the community are for them, not what works they perform. This does not mean that the work is not important or attractive or life-giving or God-sent. But rarely does a community member do a ministry that could not be done without the benefit of religious life. The focus on practical purpose is a trait of modernity that the older generation of religious retain. On this front, there can be little agreement between Baby Boomers March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast and Thirteeners, both of whom exhibit the extremes and incon-sistencies of their cohort characteristics. The difficult task, in my opinion, is to admit that the post-modern village beast is in our midst, in the form of the tension between the assimilated postmodernism of the Boomers and the socializing postmodernism that has enveloped and permeated the Thirteeners from the day of their birth. It is present in the ways that religious have--for forty years and counting--been assimi-lating various cultural sensibilities such as individualism and careerism. It is present each time younger religious hear with skep-ticism of the solidly valuable accomplishments their elders are justly credited with. The postmodern questions of meaning and being are not merely coming at us from the larger society. They are a part of who we are. I mentioned earlier that many of us, of several generations, are concerned and sometimes even preoccupied with the question of our future as religious and members of vowed institutes. Our future relates directly to the question of who we are and what we mean in the contemporary world. The several generations approach and answer these questions differently. Taming this beast so that it does not define us--becoming what we are all about, becoming our very identity--requires two things. We need to understand explicitly and clearly the culture in which we find our-selves without making knee-jerk negative judgments, and we need to engage in unavoidably difficult conversations about genera-tional tensions. The Media as Language In contemporary American culture, postmodern sensibilities are inculcated most clearly through the mass media. The obvious places to start identifying postmodern tendencies are television, popular music (especially so-called alternative radio stations), movies, videos, and cyberspace. This may appear to be old news. But I mean more than simply watching or listening and letting a previously adopted metanarrative do the interpreting. We should not approach the media with dismissive attitudes. The media are the languages of the culture. Languages themselves are not flawed, unjust, shallow, or materialistic, though much that fills the media is all of the above. Still, there is a message to be heard beneath the glitz and glitter, the shallow sounds and images. In recent years the Review for Religious number of films without a "happily ever after" ending perhaps indicates a low-grade belief that the metanarrative that brings everything neatly together in the end is over. Many popular songs contain spiritual images, perhaps indicating that Thirteeners and their children are not as materialistic as people imagine. Many websites come up if one types in the word God, too many to inves-tigate in a single sitting, and they run the gamut of traditions and expressions. If we understand the media somewhat, or at least are alert to the undercurrent messages they may be communicating, we can begin to tame the question of meaning among ourselves. Patricia Wittberg SC has claimed that religious life's attractiveness for potential members relates directly to how well we understand and con-verse about our specific culture's areas of social discontinuity. Her claim, supported by others such as Sammon, is that Thirteeners particu-larly are looking for community and spiritual-ity. This seeking shows perhaps the deepest anguish of Western industrial culture and calls attention to the dark side of postmodernity. On the other hand, specific works of religious communities are directed at poverty, abandonment, alienation, and other symptoms of a society's anguish--but such symptoms are not the anguish itself. This anguish is expressed by a society's operative language; in our case, this is the media.'3 Understanding postmodernity involves engaging the media. One example among many is the ability to live and relate vicari-ously or virtually. In this world of what has been called hyperre-ality, the communication accomplished through media images is perceived as more real than the things themselves: reality is what is communicated in this hyperreal or superreal way. Charles Lamert, noting the effect on viewers of a movie like Dead Man Walking, asks: "What is the power of the movies to evoke deep feelings in such an artificial environment, bad popcorn and all? Somehow this is a medium that by projecting images before us causes us to project ourselves into those images, drawing out feel-ing from our unconsciousness . When a movie is over we leave, and leave behind the feelings."~4 In other words, because our primary means of gaining infor-mation and making sense of our culture is the media, our sensibility Understanding postmodernity involves engaging the media. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast might last only as long as what is immediately before us. The feelings have been real. Television sight-and-sound images of Balkan ethnic cleansing produced real horror, genuine sadness and empathy. But, simply by watching CNN, we cannot say we have experienced ethnic cleansing or known anyone who has. We do, however, tend to base our belief about the world and our involvement in it on these feelings evoked by real experiences that in fact we have not experienced. Consequently, we are living virtually. Engagement and Risk Virtual living can be translated into virtual ministry if one is not careful, and so it is essential to be aware of this dynamic in order to respond to society's deepest anguish, recognizing that longings for the spiritual or the transcendent, and for a real and not merely a virtual community, are true 10ngings deserving of true ful-fillment, not virtual fulfillment. I recently removed my name from a list-serv so as to distance myself from the temptation to live vir-tually- isolated from the real. One list member wrote, "All of you are my community." Of the more than one thousand subscribers, I have never consciously met a single one in person. The feelings shared, the stories told, and the wisdom exchanged were valid and also hyperreal. I was personally moved by many of the stories and certainly prayed for many who requested prayers. The dark side of postmodernity, however, its alienation factor, is in the inevitable realization that this "community" of mine consists of more than a thousand persons with whom I have never had a face-to-face con-versation and never shared a meal. Religious life offers people real, not hyperreal, community and a real context in which to explore spirituality. From the mod-ern perspective, the ability to connect and interact electronically with thousands of people is a miracle. For those born into post-modernism, it simply is not real and cannot provide real commu-nity. Perhaps it is now time to ask whether offering invitations to religious life's real community may not itself be a valid ministry-- as valid as any other social-welfare ministry! My own congregation has been reminding my confreres and me that, as a society of apos-tolic life, we live in common for the sake of the mission. What I am suggesting is that, in light of postmodern questions of mean-ing and being, we notice that common life itself is a mission in a culture that hungers for real community. Review for Religious We can come to a clear understanding of this culture and its anguish only if we understand its language. We cannot use the various forms of media well enough to change the image of con-secrated life in the popular mind if we do not speak this language. It is futile to use postmodern media to send modern messages. Resisting the temptations inherent in the media culture (such as virtual living) and simultaneously becoming fluent in mediaspeak are the means to make the postmodern beast begin feeding us. Intergenerational Dialogue This leads us to the complicated issue of intergenerational dia-logue. We feed thevillage beast through our intergenerational struggles. Baby Boomers have indeed assimilated much of the media culture, but have done it selectively. Thirteeners, on the other hand, learned to communicate under the broad umbrella of the media; for them it is not a learned or second language. Consequently, differences in communication become apparent when identity and meaning are discussed in relation to the vocation crisis. If we cannot in some way formulate a cohesive self-image and rationale for existence among ourselves, no amount of media expo-sure can change the pattern of decreasing membership. I believe that for some communities and congregations, if not most, the intergenerational challenge is greater than the reality of overall diminishing numbers. Sammon states, "So great is the suspicion about Xers among a few midlife priests, sisters, and brothers that they would go so far as to risk. the future of their congregations rather than admit a significant number of them to membership. Xers in religious life find their situation equally oppressive.''~s The generations share the suspicion equally. Boomers accuse younger religious of conservatism, materialism, and an absence of passion about social issues. Thirteeners are weary of being measured against a supposed Vatican II norm of authenticity, namely, the Boomers' sense that their own Catholic understanding of the contemporary world is better than their elders' understanding of it; the Thirteeners are also weary of the ineffective ideological psychobabble they perceive in many for-mation programs. It is important, then, to find concrete ways in which both groups can genuinely share each other's wisdom. Recalling Patricia Wittberg's use of social-movement theory to examine religious life, one can say that a group or a community March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast succeeds when it speaks to a specific discontinuity present in soci-ety. For Boomers, discontinuities include poverty, oppression, dis-crimination, sexism, and racism. Baby Boomers, having lived their formative years during an age of idealism and social activism, speak well to these discontinuities, tl~ese signs of deeper anguish. Thirteeners, having spent their formative years recovering from effects of some misplaced 1960s idealism, have unavoidably embod-ied the anguish itself in their longing for transcendence and com-munity. The original anguish and its subsequent effects are elements of the same reality. Schneiders says: "The distinguishing characteristic of reli-gious life (in any of its forms) is the exclusive commitment to the God-quest that precludes any other primary life commitment, such as that to spouse and family, profession, or project . For religious the love of Jesus, unmediated by any other primary com-mitment, is the constitutive factor in life.''16 Whether one's energy is centered on social discontinuities themselves or on consequences of efforts to deal with them, the primary commitment to God in Jesus Christ through the Spirit provides common ground. Schneiders goes on to explain that the fundamental call to religious life belongs to the nature of charism on the first level. This call as "lived in and through the love and direct service of the neighbor" belongs to the nature of charism on its second level.17 While it would be scientifically inaccurate or simplistic to divide the Baby Boomer and Thirteener generations into clear categories, I tend to believe that one generation can more properly be described as on one level, the other on the other. Schneiders locates religious life on the margins of culture: The relation of the religious to culture is one of voluntary marginality rather than total absorption. By not undertaking one's species role as reproducer of the race, by not partici-pating in a capitalistic economy by the acquisition or use of wealth for personal purposes, by not exercising political power for individual goals, the religious situates herself at the edges of the systems that make the culture function. From this marginal position, religious share in the "hermeneutical advantage of the poor," the vision of the sociocultural sys-tem from the standpoint of those who are not primary ben-eficiaries of that system but often its victims.~8 In other words, the me.aning of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the site from which to begin genera-tional dialogue. Whether initially motivated by a longing for corn- Review for Religious munity and transcendence or by a love for justice and for the socially disadvantaged, both Baby Boomer and Thirteener reli-gious are characterized by their voluntary marginality in rela-tionship to the culture that produced them. This is common ground, which we call the evangelical counsels. The Unity between Postmodernism and Modernity My point here is that discovering the common ground between generations provides the space in which to discover the other's world. This is of utmost importance, given these genera-tions' responsibilities for taking religious life into the future. There are two ways of approaching this common ground. The prophetic character of Baby Boomers, which gets them involved in the social activism, corresponds well to Schneiders's views of the centrality of the vow of consecrated celibate chastity. The existential angst of the Thirteener generation corresponds well to Michael J. Himes's reflections on the vow of poverty last year in this journal.~9 Granted that trying to offer a clear-cut typology is risky at best, it can serve as a point of departure for some interesting discussion. The particular strengths of the Baby Boomer generation and of the Thirteener generation are all-too-able to keep the ques-tion of being and meaning at bay and thus to keep anxiety about the future our primary concern. These strengths are likewise capa-ble of eliminating any future whatsoever for many religious con-gregations. But let us look more closely. Schneiders says, "The constitutive feature of religious life as a state of life, in other words, that which both organizes it as a form of life in the church and distinguishes it from other forms, is lifelong consecrated celibacy." She adds, "Celibate solitude is the root of immediacy to God as a mode of Christian experience and of social marginality as a position in the world which, oper-ating together, ground religious life as a prophetic lifeform in the church.''2° During the renewal efforts that followed the Second Vatican Council, many religious congregations and communities took being prophetic as that which distinguishes religious life. Engagement with the world had been motivated by the zeal to continue the ministry of Jesus Christ, particularly among the most abandoned. In order to be prophetic, religious entered into study, discernment, and activity that placed them truly on the far margins of contemporary society and away from the large institutions which Mard~-.4pril 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding tbe Beast had previously defined or identified them. This was in line with the social activism of the generation and found support from many quarters. The movement was into the world, into social justice, into solidarity with the materially poor and into a variety of direct-service ministries. How does this connect with Schneiders's views on consecrated celibacy? First, one's commitment to the God-quest is clear within such a consecration, at least theoretically. Second, making Jesus Christ the center of one's life includes loving the people whom Jesus loved, particularly the most abandoned. Finally, the prophetic witness of consecrated celibacy needs to be concrete and incar-national. This appealed to a generation that had not been as close to the breakdown of marriage as the Thirteeners were. For them the consecration to celibacy involved a far greater prophetic com-mitment than to marriage. There is a twofold dynamic operating here. On the one hand, committing oneself to God stirs up zeal for justice and people's welfare, and, on the other, seeing the image of God in those who are served stirs up zeal for the commitment. Combining Strengths The Baby Boomer generation has been and is an active, "doing" generation. It believes that it can make a difference and is willing to live consecrated celibacy for the sake of those whose lives are improved by their commitment. The vow enables the religious to serve more people expeditiously and well. This, in a sense, touches again upon the issue of modernity. Baby Boomers were socialized within a modern world that was on a continuum towards better and better things. The utility of the vow is consis-tent with this mentality. For its part, the Thirteen generation is characterized by its existential poverty. This is altogether distinct from the issues of either material poverty or affluence. By existential poverty I mean that the Thirteener generation has been given no great social quest, does not believe in unlimited linear progress (because modernity has failed it), and perceives that it has not contributed greatly to the larger social reality. Sammon claims that Thirteeners appear to be "the cleanup crew of this century: whatever conse-quences America must face, they'll bear the brunt of it.''21 The resulting attitude constitutes a certain existential poverty. This generation has no grand story to tell, it has grown up living virtual Review for Religious instead of actual reality, and it has been left to confront the future with something less than hope. Members of this generation have experienced a great deal of death by way of suicide, drugs, and local violence, such as drive-by or school shootings. Although often caricatured as a materialistic, spoiled genera-tion, middle-class Thirteeners were provided with a great number of things by the previous generation, who considered such accu-mulation a sign of success. They watched as success ripped fami-lies apart, leaving them the first victims of what some have called America's divorce epidemic. Sammon states, "They are., the first generation of Americans whom other people took pills not to have. From the very beginning of their lives, this message was passed along to them: Children are avoidable or, in the case of abortion, disposable.''22 These social perceptions include an intuitive sense of the poverty of the human condition. Material well-being is a secondary issue. Michael J. Himes has proposed that "poverty is the key value in the vows . It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me.''23 Thirteeners have internalized the entire postmodern critique of modernity's limitations. Regarding relationships, Thirteeners draw on their experience of watching their parents divorce. Regarding beliefs, Thirteeners have carried the brunt of religious pluralism, picking up the notion that every belief is as good as the next because none can be proven and all have been touched by some kind of scandal. Regarding institutions, ,they are aware that the social-security system may ~ail and leave them without its benefits; they know that a good university education may not provide a lifelong upwardly bound career. In their perception of the world, everything is suspect because everything is radically limited. I would suggest that Thirteeners, through their sense of rad-ical existential poverty, have something important to contribute to vowed or consecrated life. It is no wonder that they turn instinc-tively towards community and spirituality. They do not appear to be seeking definitive answers because they would not believe them anyway. But their ability to live with ambiguity without idealism provides a different edge to prophecy. As Himes says, "Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfillment is what is character- The Thirteen generation is characterized by its existential poverty. March-April 2001 ,Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast istic of being a human being.''24 Fo~: the Thirteener who has made the God-quest her primary life-commitment, the clear message is that only God provides fulfillment, not the promises of modernity or the fleeting, noncommittal character of postmodernism. So what does feeding the village beast have to do with the above generalizations? Those who feel an affinity with Schneiders's sense of consecrated celibacy can say, "I am a person whose pri-mary affective life-commitment revolves entirely around Jesus Christ. Because of this, I continue to do what Jesus did in order to announce the good news to the poor." Those who resonate with Himes's view can say, "I am a person whose primary affective life-commitment revolves entirely around Jesus Christ, who taught us that only God can satisfy the deepest of human longings. I gladly live a life proclaiming this message, particularly to those who are most abused by the lies of materialism and the false belief that it can provide fulfillment." These two essential stances can help keep beastly postmodern anxiety at bay and not allow our lives to be consumed by obsession about our future--or about whose vision of the future is most accurate and correct! The challenge, then, is to find ways of sharing equally valid expressions of our primary life-commitment. One emphasis is no less valid or worthy than the other; both of them result from generational experiences, perceptions, and worldviews. We can begin honestly and peacefully to identify in ourselves and in one another which tendency manifests itself in our lives together, together in our communities and in our ministries within the larger church and world. No One Answer From the perspective of modernity, we are challenged to come together to discuss the constituent factors of our form of life, par-ticularly as they are embodied in ourselves. From the postmodern perspective, we cannot allow one emphasis or one manifestation to be considered the grand story, the metanarrative which will solve all problems. There is no one answer, there is no universal solution, and in a sense there is nothing to be repaired. As Schneiders points out, religious life is a lifeform, an organic reality that has the abil-ity to grow, develop, change, and move through space and time. I have covered a great deal of territory in this reflection. It began by identifying a dynamic that is operative in many congre- Review for Religious gations and communities, namely, a preoccupation with our future. One of the reasons that we are confronted by this village beast is the presence, in different degrees in two generations, of a post-modern sensibility, a sensibility most clearly evident in contem-porary society's operative language, the media. The postmodern question of meaning and being presents itself not only from outside our community boundaries but also within the community itself. The Baby Boomers retain the idealism of their modern upbringing, but have indeed assimilated selectively some aspects of the postmodern sensibility. Thirteeners, on the other hand, were socialized into postmodernism from birth. Consequently, the question of meaning and being takes on different characteristics for the two generations. In order to stop being menaced by challenges that our future presents, I believe that all the generations in religious life, par-ticularly Baby Boomers and Thirteeners, need to discover the common ground of their basic life-commitment. I believe that the language used in this discovery will indicate that the prophetic activism surrounding the idea of consecrated celibacy, as out-lined by Sandra M. Schneiders, can peacefully coexist with the language of existential human poverty, as outlined by Michael J. Himes. The question about our future may lumber around and not go away altogether. This not unfriendly village beast may continue to say, "Feed me." But feeding it must not be what we are all about. Notes J Charles Lamert, Postmodernism Is Not What You Think (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1997), p. 5. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000). 3 Lamert, Postmodernism, p. 51 4 Schneiders, Finding, p. 111. 5 Schneiders, Finding, p. 113. 6 See Schneiders, Finding, p. 113. 7 See Sefin D. Sammon FMS, "Last Call for Religious Life," Human Development 20, no. 1 (Spring 1999): 12-27. 8 David J. Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger Publishers, 1993), p. 158. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast 9 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 15. t0 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. " Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. 12 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 13 Patricia Wittberg SC, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 81-85; Sammon, "Last Call," p. 20. 14 Lamert, Postmodernism, pp. 29-30. 15 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. 16 Schneiders, Finding, p. 313. J7 Schneiders, Finding, p. 314. 18 Schneiders, Finding, p. 327. 19 Michael J. Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 21. 20 Schneiders, Finding, p. 129. 2, Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 22 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 23Himes, "Returning," p. 21. 24Himes, "Returning," p. 22. In a Time of Trial In my Friday-grief I seat myself by your shrouded body in the dark stone-stopped tomb while I await the sudden trembling of the earth, the harsh scraping at the entrance, the rustle of spice-scented linens, and know that I can now step out with you into the sun-drenched dawn of an Alleluia-day. Franklin Cullen CSC Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER I Community and Communion: Making the Connections p~.pe John Paul II speaks of some aspects of the Eucharist in ta consecrata, his postsynodal apostolic exhortation on the consecrated life: By its very nature the Eucharist is at the center of the con-secrated life, both for individuals and for communities. It is the daily viaticum and source of the spiritual life for the indi-vidual and for the institute. By means of the Eucharist all consecrated persons are called to live Christ's paschal mystery, uniting themselves to him by offering their own lives to the Father through the Holy Spirit. (§95) These words of the pope describe an ideal that seems far from the daily experience of most religious I know. It is not that we do not affirm the ideal. But the realities of community and liturgy seldom come together in the life-giving way envisioned in Vita consecrata. The reasons are many and complicated, and the solutions will require imagination and passionate desire. Here I want to explore some factors that inhibit the integration of Eucharistic devotion and community life, to identify some values common to both, and to name some steps we can take to reanimate our communal and Eucharistic life. First let us describe the present reality of Eucharistic practice among religious. I will focus in this section only on common, Doris Gottemoeller RSM presented this paper first at the Eucharistic Congress in Washington, D.C., on 7 October 2000. She is Senior Vice President for Mission and Values Integration at Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. March-April 2001 Gottemoeller * Community and Communion L J Religious community is meant to be a tissue of daily relationships, the context in which we realize all the other dimensions of our vowed life. observable practice. Let us begin by looking at large community houses such as motherhouses and retirement communities. Many of them still have the benefit of a daily Mass, but a significant number can no longer count on the daily presence of a priest. Since these sisters tend to be old and infirm and unable to go out to a parish, they substitute a communion service on the days a priest is not available. Sisters in smaller local communities seldom live in traditional parochial convents; even if they minister in a parish, they may well choose to attend Mass at a different parish. Where two or more sisters live together but work in different ministries, they may well attend different parishes. In short, the practice of a community attending Mass together is becoming increasingly rare. A few sisters minister in settings too far from a resident priest to expect to attend Mass more than once a week, if that often. In some cases, what counts toward the choice of where to worship is convenient location, convenient time, and a congenial celebrant. At times anonymity and speed are the operative criteria for selection. Add to this general picture of behav-ior some frequently expressed thoughts and feelings: "I cannot attend Mass daily and have it be a real celebration. IfI go less frequently, each cel-ebration becomes more meaningful." "My ministry requires me to work long hours, and there is no liturgy that fits into my sched-ule." "The Church's exclusion of women from presiding at liturgy and the use of exclusive language in readings and prayers make Mass attendance too painful for me to endure." I make no attempt to quantify these practices or feelings--only to note that they are part of the experience of at least some religious and therefore, in a sense, part of the experience of us all. What about the experience of community life today? Elsewhere I have suggested that our inability to be clear about what community living means or what it calls us to is our Achilles' heel.' Even raising the topic provokes equivocation, defensiveness, rationalizations. Everyone affirms community as an ideal, but few agree on how to realize it in practice. In the same vein, we are Review for Religious not clear on how it relates to, shapes, or determines our practice of the evangelical counsels and ministry. Going deeper, we have not chaJlenged ourselves to articulate a theology or spirituality of com-munity living adequate for our time. In the complicated process of adapting our way of life to modern and postmodern realities over recent decades, we have been clearer about what we were dis-carding than about what we were setting up as a corporate choice. Hence we find it difficult to say with any clarity or assurance what we are inviting potential and new members to share. Given our uncertainties and ambivalence about Eucharistic devotion and community living, it is no wonder that the ideal of Eucharist-centered consecrated life, for both individuals and com-munities, seems a dream still to be accomplished. The foregoing sketch of the present situation may sound somewhat pessimistic. But there is, I believe, a renewed hunger among religious today for authentic expressions of the deepest meaning of our life, and so these considerations are important. I suggest that there is a powerful analogy between Eucharistic life and religious community life that can shed light on both and show between them a common spirituality. The analogy has four dimensions. The Word Is Made Flesh Religious community and the Eucharist are incarnational. There is a physicality about each that is intrinsic to its nature. Our Eucharistic belief and piety embrace the concept of the Real Presence: that under the appearances of bread and wine the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially present. If the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity had not assumed human nature, human soul and body, there would have been no Last Supper and no enduring Eucharistic presence today. The accidents of bread and wine are able to be seen and eaten; they are tangible. We know that religious community is also tangible: it is a social experience in which real people, through their physical senses, relate to one another in significant and mutually supportive ways. Sometimes we speak of community as an abstraction, one that is easy to affirm because it makes no demands on us. But reli-gious community is meant to be a tissue of daily relationships, the context in which we realize all the other dimensions of our vowed life: prayer, poverty, celibacy, obedience, mission. Take poverty as an example: not only do we share our income in common, but we March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion also discern together how much is enough, whether for the present living situation or for future needs. Living religious community requires interacting in significant ways with companions whom we can see, address, challenge, praise, forgive, and even embrace. A priest celebrating Mass alone, without the company of an altar server or any other worshiper, is an anomaly. So, I would suggest, is a religious living alone. Something intrinsic to the expe-rience of Eucharistic or religious community is missing. Carrying the incarnational analogy further, we may say that both Eucharist and religious community are preeminent realizations of church. As Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy reminds us, "The liturgy is the outstanding means by which the faithful can express in their lives, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nafure of the true church. It is of the essence of the church that she be both human and divine, visible and yet invisibly endowed . Day by day the liturgy builds up [the mem-bers] of the church into the Lord's holy temple, into a spiritual dwelling for God--an enterprise which will continue until Christ's full stature is achieved. At the same time the liturgy marvelously fortifies the faithful in their capacity to preach Christ. To out-siders the liturgy thereby reveals the church as a sign raised above the nations" (§2). In short, when the faithful gather to celebrate Eucharist, Church "happens." The Synod on Consecrated Life also saw a unique ecclesial manifestation in this life. Vita consecrata (§§41 and 42) calls com-munity life "an eloquent sign of ecclesial communion," that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, built not on family ties or nat-ural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal commu-nion and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in the human heart and in society." Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord." In literature the figure of speech called synecdoche uses a part to represent the whole and thus even to contain the whole. Perhaps this figure of speech can illustrate a similarity between the Eucharistic assembly and religious community: each in its own Review for Religious way, limited in time and space, is a special manifestation of the church, past, present, and future, throughout the world. Do This in Memory of Me Whenever Mass is celebrated, the story of our redemption is retold and the stuff of our lives is incorporated into that story. In the penitential rite we are reminded that Jesus heals the wounds of sin and division, and then we recall our sins and ask and receive forgiveness. Scripture readings highlight some aspect of salvation history, and the homily applies it to our lives. In the creed we recite the ancient truths and affirm our contemporary belief. In the offertory our gifts are brought to the altar in order to be become Christ's Body and Blood. The words of consecration recall the Last Suppe~:--for the sake of the present action. The telling and retelling of the story of salvation is not a sterile repetition, but an opportunity for us to be drawn into an ongoing story and to make it our own. It is ultimately a transforming story. One day recently the postcommunion prayer included the words "become what we have received." We could never exhaust the meaning of that short phrase. Nourished by Christ's Body and Blood, we are incorporated into him and become Christ in the world. Each religious institute also lives by a story. The circumstances of the founding, the teachings of the founder, the sufferings and hardships of early members, accounts of new missions undertaken, tales of saintly individuals--all of these are elements in a congre-gational history that is still being written. A new member is grad-ually introduced to that s~ory in a process analogous to the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults. Bit by bit she learns the stoW and becomes a part of it. The story is more than facts: it includes beliefs, values, and customs which have to be interiorized if the new member is to be really incorporated. These are best instilled by example. The new member lives in a community that shows her in a natural and unselfconscious way what it is to be a Sister of Mercy or Daughter of Charity or Franciscan. Gradually she takes on the new identity and lives out of it in an authentic way. Both processes--Eucharistic and congregational incorpora-tion- illustrate the meaning of theological tradition. This term refers to the preservation and development by which some truth, whether divine revelation itself or a founding charism, is made available to succeeding generations. Through successive genera- March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion t_ions of recalling and living and praying that truth, new persons are enabled to enter into the community of belief and practice and to contribute their insights. The words used may differ, as languages and cultures change, but the essential identity perdures, under the guidance of the Spirit. Eucharistic community and religious com-munity are communities of memory, nourished by retelling the story. The words of the Evangelist John apply to both, "What we have seen and heard, we proclaim now to you, so that you may have communion with us" (1 Jn 1:3). That All May Be One No group on earth is more diverse than the community of Christian believers. A Coptic Christian in a refugee camp in Ethiopia, a campesino in the highlands of Peru, a Midwest tourist at St. Patrick's Cathedral, all take part in the same liturgy, albeit in different languages and rites. Nor does the diversity end there. Even within the same national or ethnic group, vocational choices, personal gifts, economic circumstances, theological tendencies, and spiritual preferences may differentiate worshipers from one another. Just look around the church some morning and appreci-ate the diversity present there. Retirees, business executives, stu-dents, factory workers, a few street people--all feel comfortable. The church's identity as communio means that all members share a fundamental unity, rooted in baptism. Whatever their differ-ences, the liturgy inspires the faithful to become of one heart in love by being "filled with 'the paschal sacraments'" (Sacrosanctum concilium, Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, §10). The sociologist Robert Bellah asserts that the fundamental practice that tells us who we are as Christians is worship? When we all gather to partake of the same Eucharistic banquet, we are drawn into an embodied world of relationships and connections, a world of human solidarity. Furthermore, he suggests, this soli-darity is an antidote to the radical individualism so characteristic of modern society. Every Eucharistic celebration is an opportunity to model hospitality and inclusive love. When we detect that dif-ferences have become barriers to communio, we must seek recon-ciliation and the restoration of harmony. Religious community has its own diversity. Before renewal we often ignored our differences or tried to eliminate them through adherence to minutiae of rules and customs. Once we began to Review for Religious recognize and appreciate individual differences, however, we did not always differentiate between wholesome and destructive diver-sity. Perhaps more accurately, we did not always differentiate between accidental differences, which can enhance community, and substantive differences, which can erode common meaning. We easily think of examples of diver-sity within a single congregation: national origin (especially if it is an international institute), ethnicity, age, personality types, education, professional expertise, ministry experience, tendencies in theology and spirituality, preferences in art, music, and recreation. On the one hand, this variety of gifts is a wonderful treasure. On the other, it creates a formidable obstacle to the unity of mind and heart which is the ideal of religious life. If this unity is to flourish, it must include a common under-standing of the core commitments of the vowed life and a common passion for the mission, and it must be nourished by the sound traditions of the congregation. For we are not on individual spiritual journeys that intersect only occasionally; we share one journey on which everyone's successes and failures challenge all to be better pilgrims. Successful integration of the varied gifts within a religious community mirrors ecclesial community and contributes to its flourishing. Hospitality and inclusive love are characteristics of both Eucharistic and religious community celebrations. The sociologist Robert Bellah asserts that the fundamental practice that tells us who we are as Christians is worship. Go Forth to Love and Serve the Lord As the liturgy draws to a close, we are sent forth on mission. In the prayers of petition, we remembered the needs of our fam-ilies, friends, community members, church, and world. We offered ourselves with the bread and wine, and now Christ has incorpo-rated us more deeply into himself so that our hands will be his hands, our hearts his heart, on a mission of service to others. Each liturgy ends in a commissioning that echoes the commissioning of Jesus' disciples before his ascension: "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father Marcb-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always until the end of the age." The message is not "Keep safe and stay well until we meet again," but rather "Go forth to love and serve me in the least of my brethren. What you have received, give freely. And, when next you gather at my table, bring the cares and needs of your neighbors with you." Liturgy is not a place to retreat from the world's problems for an hour of spiritual comfort. It is a time to penetrate more deeply into the meaning of the world's problems through the lens of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. Communion should help us see with his vision. This means seeing beneath the surface of events to the roots of the world's problems. Seeing with Christ's eyes-- we call this contemplation--is necessary for entering into the strug-gle against evil in the depths of human hearts and in the structures of society. Similarly, religious community life is oriented toward mis-sion. "Nor for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. Consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. This means, not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that our whole way of life is for the sake of making the love of God visible and attractive. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in both intention and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with people who are poor. An apostolic community responds to the needs and priori-ties of the larger congregation and also welcomes new members, introducing them to this way of life. In short, an apostolic com-munity is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but receives from others and shares with them. Eucharistic and reli-gious communities--both of them generate apostolic engagement and support. Reanimating Our Eucharistic and Communal Life At the beginning of these reflections, we noted that one of the challenges of living Eucharistic and religious community enthu-siastically is the dailiness of the two experiences. Building on the Review for Religious strength of the analogy between them, let us imagine some ways to make each experience more life-giving. In order to do so, you may want to recall some especially meaningful community cele-bration- perhaps a patronal feast, a jubilee or anniversary, a pro-fession ceremony, even a funeral. Are there elements of that well-remembered celebration which can be incorporated into daily experience? Let me suggest a few. The first dimension of any celebration is anticipation, together with preparation and planning. We look forward to community celebrations, choosing the time and place with care, sending out invitations, preparing the space, devising a menu. If the celebra-tion is to include a liturgy, additional preparations are made--a celebrant is engaged, the choir and musicians rehearse, programs are printed, the altar is adorned. Far from being a burden, these preparations add to the greatness of the occa-sion. We enjoy imagining what the result will be. We look forward to the delight others will experience, perhaps to elements of surprise or special beauty they will enjoy. By our antici-patory efforts we are giving the message that what is to follow is important. In some way the element of anticipation and preparation can be incorporated into the daily rhythm of our Eucharistic and commu-nal life. A simple way to anticipate the Eucharist is to reflect on the scriptural texts before Mass, to pray for grace to hear the word of God and to live it gladly. If we have options, the choice of a time and place to attend Mass is also part of the anticipation. Because community life is not a single event, but an ongoing rela-tionship, the note of anticipation may not seem applicable. I believe, however, that we have to be every bit as intentional about when and how we will gathei', what we will do to enhance the meeting, who we might invite to join us. Mealtime, prayer times, and recreation--three common points of encounter--can all be enriched by thoughtful anticipatory gestures. Gathering flowers for the dinner table can say to your companions, "You are important to me. I am happy to spend this time with you." After the preparation comes the event itself, the celebration of Eucharist, the experience of community living. Harking back to the The element of anticipation and preparation can be incorporated into the daily rhythm of our Eucharistic and communal life. March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion community celebration we specially remember, we note that pres-ence to one another and attention to detail are key ingredients. A sister that I lived with for many years told me this story not long ago. She recalled returning from a trip very late at night and very tired. We used to gather for our community prayer at 7:15 each morning. The following morning she was very tempted to sleep in and skip prayer; she felt she was too tired to contribute anything to the community's effort. But she came, and she had a vivid expe-rience of being borne up and carried by the prayer of the rest of us. Then, when she went to morning Mass with us, she had the same experience at church. The presence of the other parishioners, many of whom we did not know by name but recognized from seeing them frequently, "bore her up." Their faith sustained and animated her. This story is, I suggest, a parable about the nature of Eucharistic and religious community. In times of fatigue, dis-traction, boredom, the community is there for me. When others are similarly challenged, I want to be there for them. Attention to the details of presence enhances Eucharistic cel-ebrations and community experiences. The visibility of sisters, at least occasionally attending Mass together in a parish church, gives a clear reminder that we are still here, that ours is an ecclesial vocation, that our apostolic works are rooted in a life of commu-nal and liturgical prayer. Participation as a lector, Eucharistic min-ister, choir member, or bearer of the offertory gifts can help focus our attention on what we are doing together. Attention to our posture, dress, and demeanor can all help us remember that each celebration, no matter how frequently repeated, is an incalculable opportunity to be united with the whole church living, striving, and praying throughout time and space. Similarly, in local community settings, cultivating habits of courtesy and thoughtfulness can ele-vate the daily humdrum into graced encounters. Finally, a meaningful celebration is prolonged beyond the event itself. The liturgical year supplies us with a cycle of special feasts, but, except for Christmas and Easter, the celebration is usu-ally over and forgotten by eight o'clock in the morning. Are there ways in which we can remind ourselves and one another of the morning's scripture reading, the day's feast, or the spirit of the season (the anticipation of Advent, the joy of Christmastime, the penitential spirit of Lent, the daily challenge of Ordinary Time)? Our community gatherings give us the opportunity to prolong the Eucharistic celebration into the rest of the day. Review for Religious All of these suggestions, simple as they are, are ways in which we can integrate our communal and liturgical prayer. And, of course, there are ways in which all of this can relate to our personal prayer. If one dimension is weak, neglected, or underdeveloped, the others suffer. Each part of our spiritual journey is meant to sup-port the others. In these reflections on the connection between liturgy and community life, I have suggested that there is an anal-ogy which illuminates each. Each in its own way is incarnational and ecclesial, an experience of living memory, a manifestation of varied gifts subsumed into a common unity, and a sending forth on mission. Of course, every analogy is limited, and I do not mean that the two realities are comparable in all respects. Perhaps we can switch for a moment from analogy to metaphor--my English teacher would be so proud! Both liturgy and community life are paths to the same goal of union with God, and so it is not sur-prising that, the closer they approach that goal, the more they converge. The metaphor is limited too, however, for in this life of ours we can take both paths at the same time. I found the intimate relationship, the reciprocity, between Eucharist and community summed up in the following passage by Marcello Azevedo SJ: "The Eucharist is the soul and inspiration of community [living]. The Eucharist makes community viable and challenges us to live up to its truth. And community provides a way for the Eucharist to become authentic. Where community cracks or becomes truncated, where there is community but not a living communion, there we find less of an opportunity for the Eucharist to be consistently credible. There may be a formal cel-ebration, but the very act may empty the meaning and implica-tions of what we are celebrating."3 Azevedo goes on to say that it is necessary to assist young and not-so-young religious to under-stand the immense and unique implications of the Eucharist for community life. He comments that, if we do not make the effort to teach them, daily Eucharist will seem a meaningless legalistic obligation to the young. The not-so-young, for their part, having become accustomed to a disciplined ritual, may not be aware of a problem. But, while attending the Eucharist faithfully, they might fail to grasp its new dimensions and appreciate its many benefits for the life of the community. Before closing let me return to one of the issues identified at the beginning of this reflection, namely, the alienation of some women religious from liturgy because of their feelings of exclusion. March-April 2001 '!49-- !50 Gottemoeller * Community and Communion At times the institutional church--which publicly validates our lives through canonical recognition and affirmations of many kinds--also seems to go out of its way to distance us from the Eucharist through clericalist assertions. As a result some women have sought to nourish their communal spirituality by retrieving women's rituals from Native American, Eastern, and ancient pagan sources. This issue, this phenomenon, has not been the focus of my remarks, but, because of its relationship to the overall question of Eucharistic participation by women religious, it is important to at least touch on it. Mary Collins OSB provides some relevant insights in her essay "Is the Eucharist Still a Source of Meaning for Women?''4 After noting that the Eucharistic Christ has brought prayerful women-- including our congregational founders--to a depth of spiritual identity, vision, and power generation after generation, she says: "This meaning and power do not lie exclusively in the past; they have a present and future for those who trust themselves to Eucharistic action in troubled times. To insist upon construing Eucharist solely as a symbol of male power is to squander a known source of spiritual vitality in the Catholic community." She addresses the issue of substituting other rituals for Christian liturgy: Where such impoverished constructions of the Catholic Church's Eucharistic tradition have been accepted as the whole truth or the only significant truth, some Catholics have begun to identify themselves as post-Christian and to look elsewhere for the way, the truth, and the life. Will a neopagan quasi-retrieval of rites of empowerment for women guarantee a better future for the human community than the service of the gospel and the Eucharistic celebration of the mystery of salvation? Nobody has ever been able to pre-vent people from squandering real assets when the lure of fool's goal overtakes them, nor from risking a solid future on the futures market. Neoclericalism and neopaganism both look like fool's gold to me.s Collins challenges us to hold fast to the treasure which has been entrusted to us and to the whole Christian community. As reli-gious living a communitarian life, we have a special affinity for the communal dimension of Eucharist. I hope that our reflection on these matters will stir our imaginations and irrigate, from the wellspring of our communal religious lives, our desire to celebrate Review for Religious the Eucharist. I hope that the Eucharist will be for all of us what it has been and is: our "daily viaticum and source of the spiritual life." Notes ~ "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation," Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. 2 "Religion and the Shape of National Culture," America (31 July 1999): 9-14. 3 The Consecrated Life: Crossroads and Directions, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995), p. 87. 4 Living in the Meantime: Concerning the Transformation of Religious Life, ed. Paul J. Philibert OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1994), pp. 185- 196. ~ Philibert, Living, p. 195. Easter Jesus rose like a gleaming daffodil, starting a trend of risings from cold mud - purple crocus and wild violet, pale narcissus looking too fragile for spring blasts, and the hooded heads of tulips waiting to unscarf themselves in coral and flame. You feel again your own mud and wonder each drab day what seeds unknown to you might be risii~g from the humus of your Lenten days and almost ready for your alleluias. PatSchnapp RSM March-April 2001 GERALD M. FAGIN Contemplation to Attain Love A Paradigm for Apostolic Prayer Every Christian faces the challenge of integrating prayer and ministry, for every Christian is called to a contemplative relationship with God and a life of service. Baptism missions a person to labor with Christ in building the reign of God in our world, but the desire and energy for that mission must come from an experience of God, a relationship with God that is fos-tered by a life of prayer. Prayer encourages and informs a life of ministry, and ministry enriches and gives renewed motivation for prayer. Our traditions provide a rich variety of definitions and methods of apostolic prayer. In this article I will suggest that the final exercise of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises, the Contemplation to Attain Love, offers a helpful paradigm and even a partial description of the prayer of an active minister. It names the qualities of an apostolic prayer and outlines the stages of growth in such a prayer. There is no evidence that Ignatius pre-sented this exercise as a methodology of prayer, but in obvious ways the four points of the contemplation indi-cate the kind of prayer that best suits an active Christian. Many commentators point out that the Contemplation to Attain Love describes the summit and Gerald M. Fagin SJ teaches theology at Loyola University; 6363 St. Charles Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. Review for Religious summation of the Spiritual Exercises and captures the heart of Ignatian spirituality. Michael Bucldey, in an insightful article on the contemplation, parallels the four points of this exercise with the Exercises' four Weeks.' As the four points recall what we have received, how God dwells in the gifts, how God labors in the gifts, and how the gifts lead us back to the Giver, so the four Weeks center on God's gifts of creation and redemption, on God's indwelling in the world in Jesus, on Christ laboring in the pas-sion, and finally on surrender to and union with Christ risen in glory. The grace prayed for in the contemplation also sums up the graces prayed for in the Exercises: "To ask for interior knowl-edge of all the great good I have received, in order that, stirred to profound gratitude, I may become able to love and serve the Divine Majesty in all things" (§233).2 The goal of the Exercises is to bring one to freedom to hear God's call and respond in love and service. That also articulates well the grace prayed for in any apostolic prayer. Apostolic prayer must begin with attentive listening that presumes an open heart. It results in a commitment to service that flows from a loving desire to share gospel truths and values. The contemplation at the end of the Exercises also enables and facilitates the transition from thirty days of prayer in solitude to the active life of the minister of the gospel. Prayer that was nurtured in the solitude of the desert now must find a way of expression in everyday life filled with demands and distractions. Contemplation must become a certain contemplation in action, and the God found in the quiet world of retreat must be found in all things, in all the people and events, the joys and challenges, of everyday life. This is not an easy task. The felt intimacy and strong resolutions often experienced in retreat prayer can quickly dissi-pate when confronted with the challenges of family life, commu-nity life, and ministry. Prayer must take a shape and an expression appropriate for an active and engaging life. Prayer must attune the heart to the many revelations of God in life. The four points of the Contemplation to Attain Love invite us to four forms of prayer that define the minister's relationship to God. As with the four points of the contemplation, there is a certain sequence to these prayer forms, but the rhythm of prayer implies a constant interplay between the forms. All four expressions of prayer must continually inform and enrich one another and enliven the minister. Marcb-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love First Point. Recall the Gifts I Have Received I will call back into my memory the gifts I have received-- my creation, redemption, and other gifts particular to myself. I will ponder with deep affection how much God our Lord has done for me, and how much he has given me of what he possesses, and consequently how he, the same Lord, desires to give me even his very self, in accordance with his divine design. (§234) Without a sense of thanksgiving, there is no true motivation for Christian service. The foundational grace of the Christian life is the grace to know God's personal love for oneself. God's love finds expression in the gifts of creation and redemption as well as in the endless other graces poured out upon us. All of life is seen in faith as a gift from the hands of a loving God who, as Ignatius indicates, finally desires to share God's own life with us. Ignatius experienced this powerfully in his own vision at the River Cardoner, where he saw all of creation coming down from God as a gift and returning to God. This dynamic view of creation defined for Ignatius the rhythm and meaning of life and the flow of all of life and salvation history. Our response in prayer to God's plan of salvation begins, then, with a sense of gifted-ness in our creation and redemption. We stand before God as a creature totally depen-dent on God and as loved sinners aware of God's forgiving and healing love. Christian prayer begins as a response to God's initiative toward us, a response first of profound gratitude for all that God has given us. It is no wonder that Ignatius recognized gratitude as central to Christian life and a sure measure of Christian faith. In the grace prayed for in the contemplation, Ignatius presumes that an interior knowledge of all God's gifts would "stir one to profound gratitude" (§2 3 3). The prayer of an apostle must be rooted in gratitude. Without a sense of thanksgiving, there is no true motivation for Christian service. Gratitude leads to magnanimity, to greatness of heart, and impels one to service. To sustain and enliven ministry, Christians must return to a sense of being gifted and rekindle desire to share all the gifts received and to proclaim to others the presence of God's gifts in their lives. One central goal .of ministry is to enable others to notice and claim their own gifts from God and then to Review for Religious foster those gifts in others. The first point of the contemplation reminds us that all prayer and all ministry flow from a grateful heart. The prayer of every minister must first be a prayer of gratitude. Second Point. God Dwells in All Creation I will consider how God dwells in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giving them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelli-gence; and even further, making me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty. (§235) The prayer of a minister must also be a prayer of contemplative presence. Ignatius reminds us in the second point that God dwells in all of creation, is present in every dimension of reality. To be a contemplative is to notice and be in touch with the presence of God. Ignatius spoke of acatamiento or reverence, an awareness of God's presence, a sense of awe that resulted in love, a sense of the utter gratuity of creation.4 Contemplative presence implies paying attention to God and becoming absorbed in God dwelling in and revealing himself in the world about us. God reveals himself in nature, in the events of life, in other people, and in ourselves. First, contemplative presence enables us to listen to God in nature. The beauty and grandeur of creation, the majesty of life expressed in plants and animals, the power of nature manifested in wind and storm--all of these reveal the splendor and majesty of God and call forth awe and wonder that draws the human heart to the presence of God alive in the world. The beauty and wonder of creation invite our hearts to move beyond what we experience and become centered on God. This calls to mind the simple act of contemplation that Julian of Norwich describes: seeing a tiny hazelnut, she recognizes that God made it, loves it, and preserves it.s Her heart is lifted to God her creator, her lover, and her pro-tector. All of creation is a manifestation of God that guides us into a deeper awareness of God's loving presence all around us. Second, contemplative presence also attunes us to God present in the events of our lives, events of joy and grace as well as painful and challenging events. God dwells with us, supports and strength-ens us, and faithfully walks with us in significant, life-changing March-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love events and in ordinary, routine events. We can recall significant moments of insight or forgiveness or renewed hope or grief at the loss of a loved one--moments of grace as dramatic as the birth of a child or as simple as a consoling word spoken in love. A con-templative presence enables us to find God dwelling in all life's events. Third, God dwells in a special way in the people we encounter in our lives. A contemplative presence gives rise to reverence and awe before others. We recognize and acknowledge God dwelling in them. We give thanks for the giftedness of others and see the face of God in them. We recall experiences of friendship that have been powerful sacraments of God's love in our lives. As the poet Hopkins proclaims it, "Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his, to the Father through the features of men's faces." God is revealed as well in community, in the people God calls together. "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Mr 18:20).6 How often we find God in our sisters and brothers called together in word, sacrament, and service! God dwells powerfully in the com-munity of humankind and in the more particular communities of family and church that surround us with love and support. Finally, God dwells within our own hearts--creating us, loving us, and sustaining us. We find God in our needs and feel-ings and desires, in the movements of our hearts. God forever desires to make his home with us. Jesus' words to Zacchaeus are spoken to us each day, "I must stay at your house today" (Lk 19:5). We can recall the searching words of Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19) or the words of Jesus in John's Gospel, "Abide in me as I abide in you" (Jn 15:4). These words of Scripture call to mind the mysterious truth of the life of grace: God dwells within us. Contemplative prayer puts us in touch with that intimate presence and fosters our shared presence with God. The second point of the contemplation, then, elicits the grace of finding God in all things. For the Christian in active ministry, the grace of finding God in the flow of life means more than bringing the fruit of our prayerful contemplation to our ministry. It implies being contemplative in the midst of our action, finding God present in the events and people in our lives. So often we long for and wait for epiphanies of God in our lives, those dramatic and unmistakable revelations of God that capture our attention Review for Religious in sudden and unpredictable ways. A contemplative presence empowers us to notice the constant diaphanies of God, the ways God shines through all of creation and all the events of our lives. Contemplative presence is a prayer of the apostle because it allows us to find God in life and to be present ourselves to God present to us. Third Point. God Labors in All Creation I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the man-ner of one who is laboring. (§236) In the third point Ignatius highlights how God is at work in all things, how God labors to bring all things to salvation. The Christian is called to labor with God to bring all of creation to salvation. Apostolic prayer, then, is always a prayer of discernment about choices and decisions.7 If Christ labors in the world, redeeming it and bringing it back to the Father, the ques-tions before the minister are always: How do I become part of this labor of Christ? What is my role in salvation history? Ignatius experienced this in his mystical vision at La Storta where the Father placed him at the side of Jesus carrying his cross. Ignatius was to labor alongside Christ to bring the world back to God. The challenge was to discover what laboring with Christ meant in the con-crete circumstances of his life. The chal-lenge for every minister is to come to decisions that are true to the mind of Christ and apt for building the reign of God. What can I do for and with Christ in my life situation? A decision flows out of a conversation between my gifts, the needs of the Christian community, and the particu-lar call of Christ in my life. Discernment is the art of finding God's will in the concrete details of my life. Discernment is a gift of the Spirit that attunes our heart to the heart of Christ so that our min-istry is shaped by the hopes and desires of the Lord and not our own agenda. The challenge for every minister is to come to decisions that are true to the mind of Christ and apt for building the reign of God. March-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love In the second Week of the Exercises, Ignatius invites retreatants to an imaginative prayer that leads them into the events of Christ's life. The invitation to be present to a person or event in the Scripture calls them to be present with Christ in a given mystery of his life. The grace prayed for is a deep-felt knowledge of Christ and love for Christ. Ignatian imaginative prayer or con-templation also teaches one to discern God's will in the specifics of life. Where am I to be inserted into God's plan of salvation as it unfolds today? How I am to labor with Christ to make this plan a reality? This twofold purpose of imaginative contemplation in the second Week of the Exercises--intimacy with Jesus and discern-ment-- corresponds to the grace of the second Week: to know and love Christ by being present to him in the events of his life and to follow him by learning my role in salvation history day by day. Returning to the Contemplation to Attain Love, the second point focuses on God dwelling in the world. For a Christian, focus-ing on God means being present to Christ and noticing him in the world. The third point of the contemplation centers on God laboring in the world, especially in Jesus' life, passion, and death. As the second point suggests a prayer of contemplative presence, so the third point encourages a prayer of discernment, of finding God's will in my life. Ministers of the gospel must grow into dis-cerning hearts that define and direct their service. The gift of dis-cernment enables them to sift through interior movements to discover what is from God and leads to God and what leads them away from God. Without such discernment, choices in ministry are not founded on God's call to labor with Christ for God's reign. Fourth Point. From Gift to Giver I will consider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the Supreme and Infinite Power above and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source. (§237) The fourth point shifts our focus to God, the source of all good. God is loved not simply for what he has done for us, but for who God is. If apostolic prayer begins in gratitude, grows into contemplative presence, and finds expression in prayerful dis-cernment, union with God and others remains the goal. "Our hearts are made for God and they are restless until they rest in Review for Religious him.''~ Prayer is the language of relationship, a posture of listen-ing and responding to God that gives expression to our faith, hope, and love and grows into a shared presence with our God who desires to draw close and be one with us. Prayer is creating a space where God can be welcomed and intimacy nourished. Prayer is the experience of our hearts being one with the heart of God. Jesus, in John's discourse after the last supper, voices his desire to be one with us as he and the Father are one. He uses the image of the vine and the branches to speak of the dynamic connection between his life and ours. He invites us to "abide in his love" and share in the love the Father has for him. Jesus promises his disci-ples that "whoever loves me will keep my word and my Father will love him and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him" On 14:23). They are to be disciples on a mission, but dis-ciples rooted in mystical union with God. Prayer ultimately leads to this familiarity with God, this union, this sharing in the very life of God. This should be true for apos-tolic ministers. As the gifts lead us back to the Giver in the fourth point of the contemplation, so a contemplative prayer of discern-ment leads our hearts to a deeper union with God. The graces of the third and fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises, to be united with Jesus in his suffering and in his joy, lead a person into a prayer of union and in the end to the total surrender to God expressed in the prayer of the contemplation: "Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and also my will--all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given all that to me. I now give it back to you, O Lord. All of it is yours. Dispose of it accord-ing to your will. Give me love of yourself along with your grace, for that is enough for me" (§234). This is the prayer of total detachment from everything that is not God, a prayer of union that finds ultimate fulfillment in God alone. In his second preliminary observation for the contemplation, Ignatius says: "Love consists in a mutual communication between the two persons. That is, the one who loves, gives and communi-cates to the beloved what he or she has, or part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return does the same to the lover" (§231). Love finds fullest expression in union and mutual shar-ing. Intercommunion and personal communication, mutual giving and sharing, lead to a profound union. Apostolic prayer finds ful-fillment in a profound union of heart and desire between God and the apostle. March-April 2001 Active ministers must find God in the midst of their ministry and not simply in solitude and quiet prayer. t60 ' Fag~n ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love Apostolic Prayer This essay suggests that the final exercise of the Spiritual Exercises provides the retreatant not only with a summation of the four Weeks and a synthesizing grace of the Exercises, but also with a guideline for apostolic prayer. Implicit in Ignatius's four points in the contemplation, which moves the retreatant from the world of retreat to a world of active ministry, is a description of the forms and qualities of prayer necessary to sustain the retreatant in a life of ministry. Active ministers must always center their hearts on the gifts of God so as to be continuously grateful for them. Without such gratitude the minister's heart will narrow and grow cold and lose the expansiveness and generosity essential to ministry. Ministry flows from a grateful heart. At the same time, active ministers must find God in the midst of their ministry and not sim-ply in solitude and quiet prayer. Though such solitude and quiet time is absolutely necessary, ministers must foster a contemplative presence that is attentive to God in all the dimensions of life. Such contemplative presence joins prayer and ministry, action and contemplation, and makes it possible for the minister to find life and consolation in ministry. Genuine ministry will always be the fruit of discernment and prayerful decision making. Ministers must grow in the gift and art of dis-cernment so that their ministry carries on the ministry of Jesus in service of the reign of God. To labor with Christ presumes a heart in union with Christ and a heart free to hear God's personal call to service. Apostolic prayer nurtures a discerning heart sensitive to the ongoing call of God in our lives. Finally, all prayer moves us back to the Giver of all gifts. Apostolic prayer reaches its goal in total surrender and union with God. Ignatius, in his Spiritual Diary, records the depth and full-ness of his own prayer of union with God. Ignatius's Trinitarian mysticism was the fruit of a life of prayer and service and his final surrender to the Giver of all gifts who dwells and labors in cre-atiom This is not only a prayer for the select few. It is the desire of God's heart for all believers. Review for Religious The four points of this Ignatian contemplation invite us to a prayer rooted in gratitude, embodied in a contemplative attitude, focused on discernment of God's will, and brought to culmina-tion in a deep union with God and creation. Such a description seems at least a partial summary of Ignatius's own prayer and not far from naming the gift of prayer Ignatius would ask for those who make his Spiritual Exercises. Notes ~ Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. Buckley's interpretation of the contemplation lays a foundation for my reflections on the prayer forms suggested by the Ignatian Contemplation to Attain Love. ~ Spiritual Exercises citations are from The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans. George Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992). 3 See Gerald M. Fagin SJ, "Stirred to Profound Gratitude," Review for Religious 54, no. 2 (March-April 1995): 237-252. 4 See Charles O'Neill SJ, "Acatamiento: Ignatian Reverence," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 8, no. 1 (January 1976). s Julian of Norwich, Showings (Long text), chap. 5. 6 All scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard. Version. See Buckley, p. 102, St. Augustine, Confessions, Book 1, chap. 1. March-April 2001 ERNEST E. LARKIN What to Know about Discernment One of my teachers in Rome was the famed Dominican Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange. He often shared bits of worldly wisdom like the following: A young teacher teaches even what she does not know, a middle-aged teacher teaches only what she knows, and an old teacher teaches only What is necessary. Twenty years ago, as a middle-aged teacher, I wrote a little book on discernment, called Silent Presence. Recently, as an old teacher, I was asked to write a summary statement on the topic. Here it is. It will appear as an epilogue when Dimension Books republishes the book, which is undergoing wholesale revision for its renewed life. What, then, is necessary for discernment? Discernment as Process and Problem Discernment has two focuses: process and problem. It is pro-cess insofar as it is a progressive awareness of the movements of the spirits in our consciousness. The "spirits" are thoughts, desires, and affective moods, which are the telltale signs of the Holy Spirit or opposing influences. In the discernment process we become more sensitive to the movements of grace or the temptation to sin in our lives. Discernment is mindfulness, recollection, centeredness. It is being aware of what is going on spiritually. Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote about St. TMr~se for our September- October issue last year. His address is Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Review for Religious Discernment as problem solving is interpreting thespirits in order to determine God's will. Where are these feelings and sen-timents tending? Are they moving the person toward or away from God? What behavior and choices are they suggesting? Discernment is not concerned with the emotional or physiological sources of these feelings, but only with their trajectory or orientation. Where are they pointing? God leads us by means of these secondary causes. The two functions of discernment coalesce in our daily, moment-to-moment responses to God calling us forth in the concrete situations of daily life. This process is the "obedience of faith" (Rm 1:5), which is saying no to selfishness and yes to tran-scendence. We are called to live beyond rote rules and in accord with God's particular will for us. The ordinary teaching and ministry of the church provide the boundaries or the playing field. But God leads each of us one by one in the community of the church. God's project for me is that I become the unique person I was created to be. Discernment is the tool for the process. The How of Discernment There are three ways of evaluating our experiences. One is cognitive: we use our heads to analyze the experiences, we objectify the experiences, and we hold them before our eyes to understand and interpret them. The other two ways involve our heart: I call one mystical, the other affective; in these two ways we feel our way to the conclusion. Cognitive discernment stays on the level of thinking. It thinks about holy thoughts and desires and their unholy counterparts as well. It asks which are which, with a view to following the good and avoiding the evil. It makes a judgment based on theoretical knowl-edge about what is virtuous and what is not. This endeavor prescinds from the affective states; in cognitive discernment the feelings are beside the point. The norm is right reason and good sense. Mystical discernment is the experience of ourselves being lifted up to God in loving surrender. At the time there is no contrary movement of affectivity; experiencing a mystical grace, we have no doubt that we are in God and God is in us. Affective discernment involves an awareness of the comings and goings of a divided affectivity. We note the ambivalence in our lives between yeses and noes to God. We observe both positive and negative March-April 2001 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment affections over the same one issue, the positive ones being love, peace, commitment (all of which are signs of God's presence) and the negative ones being anxiety, alienation, rebelliousness (potential obstacles between us and God). In the to-and-fro of this experience, we sense the calling of God. A simple image may clarify this matter. Each of us is like a cone standing on its point and divided by a horizontal plane halfway up. The upper half is our conscious self, our soul or psy-che; the lower half is our spirit. God dwells in the depths of our spirit at the point of the cone. He may activate his role as the point of the cone by letting our whole being sink more deeply into himself so that our deeply spiritual sense of contact with him is now much more than a point; it is a complete circle, a divine interface, a total saturation--this is the mystical grace referred to above. Or his action, instead of being mystical, may consist of helpful waves sent from the point through our being, waves that reverberate in our consciousness along with contrary movements from our old self. Affective discernment takes note of these contrary and selfish iinpulses as well as the resonances of God's presence. A sense of that presence and absence emerges. Discernment takes place in the upper, conscious level of our being. In the mystical grace, the spirit dominates the psyche; the whole person feels raised up by God, by the sovereign action of Love. The consciousness of this divine gift is the mystical dis-cernment. The person experiences wholeness, peace, humility, a joyous faith, hope, and charity, along with immense gratitude and all the fruits of the Spirit (Ga 5:22). There are no contrary affections as long as the experience lasts. The recipient knows and loves God and all that God stands for; at this point there is complete submission to the divine will, which is intimated in the exchange. The action of grace in our being is not usually so total. Grace builds on nature and meets people where they are in their spiritual journey. Most people do not have perfect purity of heart; they are divided in their allegiance to God. So the Holy Spirit enters their consciousness via holy thoughts and desires; these are actual graces. They vie for attention and acceptance against the contrary entice-ments of the world, the devil, and one's own unredeemed self. God's action does not wholly envelop the person. Part of the person is lifted up in noble sentiments, but another part is reneg-ing and lagging behind; part is saying yes and part no. Affective dis- Review for Religious cernment senses these two directions in the affections themselves and interprets them intuitively as by a sixth sense. We thus have three ways of doing discernment, one of them following objective norms and two of them reading the affections. In actual practice, discernment usually is a mixture of the cogni-tive and the affective, with occasional experiences of the mysti-cal. We now address each of these three at greater length. Cognitive Discernment Cognitive discernment applies appropriate knowledge of the spiritual life to the issues at hand. Teresa of Avila puts a high pre-mium on learning in spiritual directors, whose function is to assist in the process of discernment by confirming or questioning the conclusions of the client. Her teaching on the importance of knowledge in the spiritual life is germane here. She wants both experience and learning in the spiritual guide. But, if forced to choose between the two qualities, she favors experience (see her Autobiography, her Vida, chap. 13), but she always prizes the confir-mation of a learned person. What knowledge is involved in discernment? Knowledge of God's ways as revealed in the Scriptures, wisdom gleaned from the sages of Israel, from Jesus, and from the New Testament, knowl-edge of the spiritual life as it has developed in history. The knowl-edge is about human beings as much as it is about God. Today some knowledge of depth psy-chology is presumed. The ancients and the medieval writers did not have the benefit of Freud, Jung, or Adler, but they knew human nature in its mysterious vagaries. Applied psychology in programs like the enneagram, Myers-Briggs, transactional analysis, and the stages of growth in Erikson and his successors is helpful. All sources of knowledge about ourselves and our world are potential helps: anthropology, biography, literature, even journals of current events that record "signs of the times," indications of what God is doing in the world today. Discernment usually is a mixture of.the cognitive and the affective, with occasional experiences of the mystical. March -April 2 O01 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment Cognitive discernment is the way for beginners, who by def-inition struggle with disordered affections and moral limitations and cannot trust their feelings to be indicators of the divine presence. Beginners need to recognize their feelings, own them, and act beyond them by hewing to the line set by objective crite-ria.° This is the teaching of the rules for discernment for the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. The rules suggest what feelings to expect at the beginning and along the way and how to handle them. The beginners' immediate goal is purity of heart, freedom of spirit, detachment, indifference, all of which terms are basically synonymous. This condition is the prerequisite for exercising affective and mystical discernment. Cognitive discernment is not limited to beginners. Mature Christians use it when they are not experiencing turbulence or strong desires. At such times they work up the pertinent informa-tion in two columns (pros and cons) and make a rational decision, confirming the decision if possible by a subsequent affective dis-cernment. St. Ignatius calls this mode of decision-making the "third time," his "first time" being mystical discernment and his "second time" affective discernment. Prayer and consultation are part of all discernment, as is confirmation by the community, usu-ally through a representative like a spiritual director. The execution of cognitive discernment may be assisted by one or more of the following suggestions: (1) Examine an area of your life such as pra~er, relationships, or ministry by reading some basic reflection on the topic and consulting your conscience on your own performance. (2) Look for models or ways to proceed in people who faced similar questions or situations (such as making a vocational choice or dealing with a significant loss). (3) Listen attentively tO what others say about you in praise or criticism for insights into self-knowledge. (4) Collect words of wisdom that may help you understand a specific question,, such as the follow-ing words of Anthony De Mello about relationships: "You are pre-cious to me, but you are not my life. My life is distinct and separate from you. I thank you for coming into my life. Good-bye." Mystical Discernment "The love of God poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit" (Rm 5:5) orients one's life to God. It roots a person in God and constitutes the state of grace. One may experience this grace Review for Religious as a special mystical gift. This experience is an awareness of one's whole person surrendered to God in faith, hope, and love. This experience is the perception of one's true self in a pure state, with-out any mixture of contrary desire. It is called mystical discernment because it depends on God's free action and the content of one's mind and heart, and their contentedness, are entirely of God. Mystical discernment is the first principle of affective discernment, for it represents the fullness against which subse-quent movements toward God are measured. These lesser affective movements are not the experience of total surrender; they are graces promoting love for God and are experienced positively because they are consonant with the original experience of the pure love of God. St. Ignatius calls them consolations. They are virtuous affections, expe-rienced as harmonious with the fun-damental option; they come across as feelings of well-being, authen-ticity, peace, and love. Their opposites are called des-olations by Ignatius; they obstruct one's surrender to God. They are negative feelings or reactions, and they come across as disruptive, alienating, and destructive. While the good movements are con-gruent with one's ultimate orientation to God, these bad spirits or sentiments oppose submission to God. Affective discernment.moves back and forth between these two sets, whereas in mystical discernment there is only consola-tion- in Ignatius's classic words, "consolation without previous cause" (Spiritual Exercises, §330). This grace is the spontaneous, unmerited inbreaking of God that absorbs the whole person in the love of God. No previous acts of the person explain its presence. It is the gustos of Teresa of Avila, which she calls the prayer of quiet; it is the experience of mystical union in both Teresa and John of the Cross. In this experience one discerns one's true self, not through knowledge about one's self, but through personal, intuitive con-tact. One "knows" God and knows one's self in the union with God, in the way St. Paul wants to "know Christ and the power of Mystical and affective discernment do not establish what is right and wrong; these matters are to be decided by moral reasoning. Malvh-April 2001 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment his resurrection and the fellowship of his suffering" (Ph 3:10). Paul seeks an affective experience, not abstract knowledge. This affective knowledge is not new truths or objective moral theology about right and wrong. Mystical and affective discernment do not establish what is right and wrong; these matters are to be decided by moral reasoning. The discernment has to do with one's sub-jective stance before God; it is about recognizing and responding in freedom to grace, and thus it is about being good, not about being right--just as people sometimes do the right thing for the wrong reason. In mystical discernment there is no intrusion of the false self. The false self is the part of one's being that is not rooted in God. It does not come out of the spirit, but is the construction of one's own ego, a figment of one's imagination and feelings. One must be careful, therefore, not to confuse mere euphoria or "sensible con-solations" in prayer with this special grace. Visions and locutions, even when miraculous, are likewise experiences of the psychic self, on the level of imagination; they are not the same grace as "con-solation without previous cause." The distinctive mark of this truly mystical grace is wholeness: body, soul, and spirit are touched by God. The true self includes all of these. What happens in that mystical union with God, therefore, is totally of God. The false self may awaken after the event and masquerade as part of the gift in the afterglow of the mystical experience. Ignatius warns about this danger (Spiritual Exercises, §336). These subsequent thoughts and affections, like visions and locutions themselves, are to be treated like all other particular ideas and feelings: they must be submitted to cognitive or affective discernment. Typical questions that may help to identify the mystical expe-rience are the following: (1) Is the experience a fantasy, euphoria gone wild, a projection, or wishful thinking, or does it represent my actual self, my reality, my truth? (2) Is the exaltation of this experience corroborated by high standards of moral attitudes and behavior? (3) Is there congruence between the experience and my deepest desires? Affective Discernment The true self and the false self at work in ordinary conscious-ness are good handles for grasping this normal and recommended way of doing discernment. Both of these parts of one's being Review for Religious express themselves in thoughts, desires, feelings, moods, and sentiments. The true self is in touch with the spirit as well as with the soul or psyche. When it operates, there is an element of whole-ness and peace along with other virtuous attitudes and movements. The false self has no roots in the spirit, is superficial and disinte-grated, and acts only at the level of imagination and emotion, with no regard for basic spiritual truth and goodness. Its hallmarks are fragmentation, alienation, irritation, and the seven capital sins. Ordinary Christians live in the state of grace; they are com-mitted to the true self. But whole areas of their lives ha

Issue 42.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1983. ; Notes on LitUt~!y REVIEW FOR REIAGtOUS ( ISSN 0034-639X~, published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVU-:W FOR REI.IGIOt~S is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1983 by REVIEW FOR RE~.~G~O~JS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S,A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW I.'OR REI,W,~OtrS: P.O. Box 6070:, Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1983 Volume 42 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW t'O~t RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and attic, s not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Paul J. Joncas Rev. Joncas, whose M.Div. is from the Northwestern Lutheran Theological Seminary, is pres-ently pursuing doctoral studies at Fordham University. He describes this paper as an exposition of Kierkegaard's Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing in which each discourse carries a consistent theme of Complexit'y and Simplicity as opposing modes of life. Tracing each of these modes through the book provides a picture of the style of life that Kierkegaard regards as exemplary. Rev. Joncas may be addressed at 102 Washington St.; Morristown, NJ 07960. When a woman makes an altar cloth, so far as she is able, she makes everyflower as lovely as the graceful flowers of the field, as far as she is able, every star as sparkling as the glistening stars of the night. She withholds nothing, but uses the most precious things she possesses. She sells off every other claim upon her life that she may purchase the most uninterrupted and favorable time of the day and night for her one and only, for her beloved work. But when the cloth is finished and put to its sacred use, then she is deeply distressed if someone shouM make the mistake of looking at her art, instead of at the meaning of the cloth; or make the mistake of looking at a defect, instead of at the meaning of thk cloth. For she could not work the sacred meaning into the cloth itself, nor could she sew it on the cloth as though it were one more ornament. This meaning really lies in the beholder and in the beholder's understanding, if he, in the endless distance of the separation above himself and above his own self, has completely forgotten the needle-woman and what was hers to do. It was allowable, it was proper, it was duty, it was a precious, duty, it was the highest happiness of all for the needlewoman to do e~brything in order to accomplish what was hers to do; but it was a trespass against God, an insulting misunderstanding of the poor needlewoman, when someone looked wrongly and saw what 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 was only there, not to attract attention to itself, but rather so that its omission would not distract by drawing attention to itself.1 The needlewoman of this story serves as an example of what Kierkegaard sets out to develop in his book Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. In her concern for the work that is set before her the needlewoman approaches it with a reverence, straightforwardness, unity of thought and purpose, and simplicity that speaks not of her, but of the duty which she was fulfilling. The viewer who looked on her work as something more than she had intended is the example of what it is to be guilty, as we all are, of double-mindedness and thus unable to see the beauty of what lies before them. It is my purpose in this paper to examine the guilt of the viewer in terms of a life of Complexity. This life is filled with double-mindedness, duplicity, evasion, attention to "the crowd," and a denial of the self. All of this is set up by pride which presents the person with many difficult pitfalls. There is also another side to what Kierkegaard has to say in his book which will be discussed in this paper. That is the story of the needlewoman, or the person who wills one thing. This is evidenced by a life of Simplicity. This life unfolds as one which is a unity, through which the "individual" is capable to "will one thing" and have a knowledge of self that enables the person to take risks. The result of this life is a sense of humility which is transparent, pointing to the "Good." I will discuss these two opposing modes of life under the titles 1 have assigned to them: Complexity and Simplicity. After describing how they each have an influence upon us, 1 will conclude with some more general observa-tions about the two categories and their relationship to one another. Complexity Throughout his book, Kierkegaard remains true to the Lutheran notion that humanity by nature is sinful. This sinfulness is lived out within the tem-poral order of the creation, and has a natural resistance to the "Eternal." In resisting the Eternal we are confronted with a multiplicity of life choices that may give the appearance of leading us to the "Good," but they are only delusions and actually hide the true, the Eternal from the seeker. We are led down the blind path of complexity that cuts us off from that for which we were created and we attempt to postpone what we know to be inevitable in our journey toward God. Alas. the temporal order and the press of busyness believe that eternity is so far away. And yet not even the foremost professional theatrical producer has ever had all in such readiness for the stage and for the change of scenes as eternity has all in readiness for time: all--even to the least detail, even to the most significant word that is spoken; has all in readiness in each instant--although eternity delays? Busyness, the continual search for meaning in the temporal order, the continual search for permanence in what is only transitory, the constant run- Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart ning in search of what is already before the seeker. It looms over the entirety of life and "clouds the heart, keeping it ever unknowing and bound to the tem-poral. We look on the procession of life and see the changes that occur in relation to the temporal. The fear that feeds the life of Complexity reminds us over and over that we are approaching the end. We turn in upon ourselves and try to find the key to not changing. We live with the false hope of delaying that which, in view of the Eternal, never happens. "For in relation to the Eternal, a man ages neither in the sense of time nor in the sense of an accumulation of past events."3 In.relation to the Eternal we are set free from the burdens of temporal existence and begin to see the Good and in turn the Good becomes visible through us. This temporal life is characterized by double-mindedness which draws us into an endless maze of dead ends that prevent us from apprehending the Good, the Eternal. Kierkegaard calls this double-mindedness by many names: pride, passion, denial of sell fear, cleverness, self-deceit, despair, impatience, the "crowd," evasion, and false humility. They are names of conditions we all know intimately. Kierkegaard shows us his magisterial knowledge of the human condition by naming those things which we all share in common, those things which tie us all together in our state of sin, and lead us down the path away from God. In order to understand the gu.ilt of the above mentioned viewer, and ourselves, we need to take a close look at the life of Complexity and the conditions that define our human situation. Pride 1 begin with pride because it appears in Kierkegaard's system that pride sets us up to fall into the other traps of double-mindedness. Once we have established what we consider to be our worth in the world we can begin to evaluate all our other actions in light of this worth. In this fashion the lazy man always has a disproportionate power of imagination. He thinks immediately how he will establish himself, and how fine it will be for him when now this and now that is done: he is less given to thinking that he should do this and that. And in reflection this logks very inviting, but when he must step out upon the road (for reflection is up above the road) then all is changed.4 Once the road is entered upon and the true demands of the journey are seen, as prideful people we begin to reassess our position and conclude that the course we are undertaking is act.ually beneath us. Pride plays to our predilec-tion to overvalue ourselves. It whispers to us ever so quietly, "Oh, you poor soul, just see what the world is asking of you. You have more important things to be involved with. Why go about wasting your time on what is trivial?" In listening to this voice we become further enamored with ourselves and we fall prey to grandiose dreams of what we can give to the worl~d, as if we had anything of our own to give. He wills that the Good shall triumph through him. that he shall be the instrument, he 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 the chosen one. He does not desire to be rewarded by the world--that he despises: nor by men--that he looks down upon. And yet he does not wish to be an unprofitable servant. The reward which he insists upon is a sense of pride and in that very demand is his violent double-mindednessP We exhibit our sinfulness since we do not just want to be an instrument of the Good in the world, but we want to be the instrument. We insist that God's will should be our will, his way should be our way--and we stretch the dis-tance separating us from God even further than before. That is the only power we have. The power to drive ourselves further away from God and think that we are drawing ever nearer. Kierkegaard does not let up in his insistence that the greatest damage we do is, above all, to ourselves. The grandness of our dreams, to be more than what we actually are, is the banner of our sinfulness that we carry into eternity. Pride widens the gulf between humanity and God by its pervasive nature: It creeps into every facet of our existence and tricks us into thinking how right we are when we are actually wrong. This is the self-deceit which pride leads us toward, and after we have already turned our backs on God, we begin to turn the tables on ourselves. For when hate, and anger, and revenge, and despondency, and melancholy, and despair, and fear of the future, and reliance on the world, and trust in oneself, and pride that infuses itself even into sympathy, and envy that even mingles itsdf with friendship, and that inclination that may have changed but not for the better: when these dwell in a man--when was it without the deceptive excuse of ignorance?. This ignorance is called self-deceit. : And to be ignorant of the fact that there is one thing and only one thing, and that only one thing is necessary, is still to be in self-deception.6 Self-deceit exists as a precipitate of pride. It is the only thing that is left after the ashes rendered by pride are sifted. Self-deceit has a way of turning everything upside down and it tries to give us the excuse we need when our efforts come to nothing. This overturning by self-deceit is much like the words of St. Paul "For the good that 1 wish, I do not do; but 1 practice the very evil that I do not wish" (Rm 7:19).7 This self-deceit has a way of masking our efforts so they may appear noble to ourselves when they actually bring about harm. Not only harm to others, but harm to ourselves. We are open to the suggestions of the world and hear a voice that appeals to our pride and thus we deceive ourselves again. But there is a wisdom which is not from above, but is earthly and fleshly and devilish. It has discovered this common human weakness and indolence; it wants to be helpful. It perceives that all depends upon the will and so it proclaims loudly, "Unless it wills one thing, a man's life is sure to become one of wretched mediocrity, of pitiful misery. He must will one thing regardless of whether it be good or bad. He must will one thing for therein lies a man's greatness.TM It is in the willingness to do even what we know to be bad that we start the process of selling out to whatever whim or fancy the world throws before us and we enter deeper into the self-deception that has already grasped us. The greater our self-deception the more we become oblivious to the "Good" and we enter into the next realm that dominates our earthly life--fear. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 325 Fear And spiritually understood there is a ruinous illness, namely not to fear what a man should fear: the sacredness of modesty, God in the heavens, the command of duty, the voice of conscience, the accountability to eternity.9 Our pride and self-deception have led us to the point of forgetting the things which we know to be desirable and the absence of these elements in our lives is not viewed as a great loss. The eternal element of our life is gone and we no longer understand what true fear is all about. Our concept of fear becomes entangled with what we perceive to be punishment. "For punishment is indeed not what a man should fear. He should fear to do wrong.''~° The concern we have is not for our eternal life but for our temporal life. "Yet double-mindedness seldom dwells on eternity's punishment. The punishment it fears is more often understood in an earthly and temporal sense."~l How often do we find ourselves doing things, not out ofthe goodness of our hearts, but out of fear for the punishment that may be inflicted upon us if we do not do it. This type of fear seems to be inbred from childhood when parents gladly point to the threat of punishment in order to get even a small degree of cooperation from the child. A full life cannot be lived from a defensive posture and God's attempts to break through our self-protection fall on ears that are deaf. Kierkegaard is trying to show that in taking away the will for the "Good" the person lives a second-class life that inhibits the individual in all rela-tionships with and in the world. What a terrible existence it would be to fear every action we take not knowing if we will receive accolades or be stoned. Kierkegaard rightfully puts this condition into the category of illness. But then, in a spiritual sense, there is another illness, a still more destructive one: to fear-what a man should not and ought not to fear. The first illness is defiance and obstinacy and willfulness. The second is cowardice and servility and hypocrisy.~' We are slaves to our fear and jump to its command. We are cowards in our actions, afraid to take any risks that may bring about punishment. We are hypocrites who smile in order to disguise our fear, thinking that we are being judged by the world while at the same time we are judging and condemning it. Kierkegaard wants to make clear the incredible power that sin can have over us in this world, it has a way of creeping into our lives silently, and just as silently tears our lives apart. We soon start to exhibit another means of self-defense which is not to risk anything. Another says, "1 have not the strength to risk all." Again evasion, an evasion by the aid of the word "all." For the Good is quite capable of reckoning and computing its demand in relation to the strength that this man has.~-~ We are unwilling to take risks because we cannot adequately judge the scope of the task. We do not truly know the risk that we are called upon to take since we stand in fear of what may happen to us if we do take the risk. Our lives are paralyzed by fear and that which is in us to lead us to the Good begins to atrophy. The result is to take even more desperate measures that lead us further away from the Good. 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Cleverness The above mentioned evasion is not solely a device to escape risk but also starts us on ihe road to thinking we are very clever. By the help of evasion, namely, one does not come into danger, and neither does he lose his honor by running away in danger--on the contrary one does not come into danger--that is one advantage. And one wins great honor as being especially clever-- that is a second advantage.~4 In our cleverness we have the ability to weave a complex of schemes that isolate us from the world. We are able to construct an ivory tower out of our plotting and slowly raise ourselves up in the eyes of the people who see us. Our cleverness allows us to look down upon the world below and gives us the illusion of achievement. The other poor souls we look down upon are seen as a threat, but as a threat that is a long way off. These same schemes also play into one of the primary traps of cleverness. Alas, there is in every man a power, a dangerous and at the same time a great power. This power is cleverness. Cleverness strives continually against the commitment.~5 Since we are not committed we give the appearance of being free but that is all we have, the appearance of freedom. We have no idea of what we may have lost in exchange for this appearance. We are not free as a true Christian enjoys freedom. We live in a cloud that, like a drug, keeps us temporarily sedated until it dissipates. The lack of commitment through cleverness does not affect the temporal life alone. Kierkegaard sees an even greater danger ahead. If he uses cleverness to hinder commitment to the Eternal, he is double-minded. He is and he remains double-minded, even if temporal help did come and he did revel in the Cleverness by which he managed his shrewd escape: yes, one should still believe that it was a calamity that he cleverly managed to evade commitment to the Eternal. Com-mitment to the Eternal is the only true salvation.~6 We have now achieved the dubious distinction of having temporarily escaped from a moment of danger and at the same time cutting ourselves off ¯ from salvation. What is left for us? Do we simply wander aimlessly through time being free from any commitment or does something else arise to take the place of this commitment to the Eternal? Kierkegaard would say that there is something else that fills in the gap created by lack of commitment and that is the passion that lives inside each of us. For if passion continues in a man, it changes his life into nothing but instants and as passion cunningly serves its deluded master, it gradually gains ascendancy until the master serves it like a blind serf.17 We are now slaves to our passions and are led about without regard for the people around us. Our passions consume us like a ravenous wolf that leaves the refuse behind. What could be left for us once we have descended to these depths? It seems that we have lost the last thread of our humanity, but there is still something more towards which Kierkegaard points the reader. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Despair Now that we have been blinded by our passions we no longer see what lies before us. We are now ready for the final descent. We have left the world behind and our attention is turned to the only place left for us, that is, totally into ourselves. When the attention has been focused within, it brings with it the danger of not being able or willing to accept what is found therein. It is as if our attention has been focused to the point of a laser and it holds the potential to destroy. In our nonacceptance we find that we are "at variance with our-selves." Kierkegaard uses the.following example of the gravity he sees in this moment of "variance." ¯. at each man's birth there comes into being an eternal vocation for him, expressly for him. To be true to himself in relation to this eternal vocation is the highest thing a man can practice, and. as that most profound poet has said: "Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting." Then there is but one fault, one offense: disloyalty to his own self or the. denial of his own better self.~8 We have now reached the point where there is nothing else to which we can turn. We have reached the point in our "double-mindedness" when we can go no further. We have reached the point of despair. "Is not despair simply double-mindedness?'n9 In denying ourselves have we not abandoned ourselves, who we are, our purpose for existence? Will you in double-mindedness of mind despair? Have you considered what it is to despair? Alas it is to deny that God is love! Think that over properly, one who despairs abandons himself (yes, so you think); nay, he abandons God!20 There it is! The terminal point for the life of complexity, the abandonment of God! There is nowhere else to turn. We could turn to the "crowd" but that is just a delaying tactic., a dead end. "For many fools do not make a wise man, and the crowd is doubtful recommendation for a cause.TM In Kierkegaard's estimation, to follow this mode of life is to take the path to eternal death, to be forever outside of the love of God. Now that the discussion of the life of Complexity has been finished as Kierkegaar&has outlined it in his book it is possible to look at the opposing mode of life--Simplicity. Simplicity It would be a dangerous mistake to think that the life of Simplicity is a life characterized by naivete. There is no room for an unsophisticated meandering through life. That would only serve as an invitation to the elements of double-mindedness in the world, alerting them that a pigeon is on the loose. A life of Simplicity has many facets to it bht it is "simple" in the fact that all of these facets are present for the cause of the' Good. The Good is the all-consuming goal of the person who lives a life of Simplicity. Our every atten-tion and energy is directed toward the Good and finds its telos in eternity. The move from Complexity to Simplicity is not just a shifting of gears but rather: 3211 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 It is indeed like a changing of raiment to lay off manyness, in order rightly to center down upon one thing: to interrupt the busy course of activity, in order to put on the quiet of contemplation and be at one with oneself. And this being at one with oneself is the simple festival garment of the feast that is the condition of admittance. The many-hess, one may see with a dispersed mind, see something of it, see it in passing, see it with half closed eyes, with a divided mind, see it and indeed not see it. In the rush of busyness, one may be anxious over many {hings, begin many things, do many things at once, and only half do them all. But one cannot confess without this at-oneness with oneself.22 Kierkegaard in giving his advice for preparation to confess points out that it is necessary to leave behind the manyness that presses in and confuses us in our moment of examination. It is necessary that we become focused, simple in our thoughts, in order to come to our confession as whole persons. His notion of "a changing of raiment" is not merely to do so for the moment, but rather, in the fashion of metanoia, it is a complete change of direction. Life is trans-formed and our life takes on the same shape as that of the above-mentioned needlewoman with all of its attendant expressions, The life of Simplicity is not as easy to dissect as that of Complexity. The categories that exist in this life overlap a great deal, with each one helping strengthen the other. Since they all combine to form a unity, a oneness of purpose, a simplicity of expression, any attempt to categorize wouid be arbi-trary and would not remain true to the method of presentation used by Kierkegaard. In view of this, the life of Simplicity will be dealt with as a whole. It is a mode of life that stands in opposition to the life of Complexity and as such it does not exist as a positive response to a negative stimulus. It is a distinct mode that stands on its own without need of outside impetus beyond the call of God to the sinner. In Kierkegaard's schema of the life of Simplicity it becomes clear that the style of life we live reflects the internal unity or disunity we are currently experiencing. True Simplicity reflects an attention to life and the things that are necessary to be done and it does not allow us to be overcome by the miasma of Complexity. We are able to stay in the world without needing to be exclusive in our relationships. We find what is good in life and participate in it fully. Do you live in such a way that this consciousness is able to secure the time and quiet and liberty of action to penetrate every relation of your life? This does not demand that you withdraw from life, from an honorable calling, from a happy domestic life. On the contrary, it is precisely that consciousness which will sustain and clarify and illuminate what you are to do in the relations of life. You should not withdraw and sit brooding over your eternal accounting. To do this is to deserve something further to account for. You will more and more readily find time to perform your duty and your task, while concern over your eternal responsibility will hinder you from being "busy" and busily having a hand in everything possible--an activity that can best be called: time-wasting.23 As we have seen, busyness for Kierkegaard is another expression of double-mindedness. This double-mindedness captures our will and makes the will captive to its perceptions of time available and the talents that we have at our command. We have a distorted view of the task at hand and soon think we Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 329 do not have the time needed to do the Good. The life of Simplicity will not stand for this sort of distraction because it is God who calls us to this life and it is God who is left behind in pursuit of the manyness of life. But to will one thing, genuinely to will the Good, as an individual to will to hold fast to God, which things each person without exception is capable of doing, this is what unites.24 Unity is important in order for us to continue in willing the Good. Without this unity it is not possible for our life to become a reflection of the Good nor is it possible for us to "unconditionally serve the Good in action." As persons who are united, there is an awareness of the freedom in our lives for service and commitment to the Good. We no longer fear for what may happen to us since we are now united to the Good, and our concerns have been turned from the temporal to the Eternal. "He that wills the Good in truth even hopes for the punishment;"~5 and this serves as an indication that we have beenset free from the fear that has prevented service and commitment to the Good. Once freed from fear we are empowered to act in a manner that is consistent with our new understanding of duty in relation to the Good. If, then a man in truth wills the Good, then he must be willing to do all for it or he must be willing to suffer all for it.~6 Our commitment to the Good is visible through action or suffering. Suffer-ing in this context does not have the same power it holds over the double-minded person. Suffering is understood in a different way because we now live in a new relationship to the world. It is not something thrust upon an unwilling victim. It is accepted in the knowledge that what happens to us in this world is insignificant when viewed in relation to the Good. When the sufferer, on the other hand, willingly takes up his appointed sufferings, he is willing to suffer all for the Good, that is, in order that the Good may be victorious in him.27 Suffering is not a badge worn before others in order to win accolades. It is worn as a simple garment, It is quietly endured and quickly forgotten." When we suffer for the Good we know deep within ourselves that it is the Good which is being accomplished through us and that our God is right here with us in our suffering. ~ Oh, you sufferer, alone and abandoned as you are by the generation to which you belong, know that you are not abandoned by God, your creator. Everywhere you are surrounded by his understanding ~,hich offers itself to you at each moment. In it you unite your will to the Good. And the edifying contemplation is always ready to remind you of that presence; and its very existence is a source of security to the living.28 As sufferers who "will one thing" we live in the world knowing that what we are experiencing will be long forgotten in ~he realm of the Eternal,, and in this knowledge we receive consolation while still in the temporal order. This is the only reward we are willing to accept because the "understanding of God" is sufficient. There is nothing more necessary since, in time, everything will be 33[~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 finished for us in the temporal order. If we are forgotten by the world, that is no problem. If we are rejected by others, that is no problem. If we lose all that we have in service to the Good, that is no problem. For this world's memory is like the moment: a series of moments. Eternity's memory, that he is certain of. When he leaves the world, he leaves nothing behind him, he takes all with him, he loses nothing, he gains all--for "God is all to him.'~9 The total focus of energy is toward God and God alone. The will is a complete unity with itself and with the Good which resides in the Eternal. We have now reached the point when our unity also reflects a purity of thought and desire. When this point is reached, Kierkegaard begins to talk about the roles of hope, faith, and love in light of "death's decision." And it is here that the evidence of a life that is truly Christian may be seen. Yet sad as it is with the wish, how joyful it is with hope! For there is a hope that is born and dies; a shortlived hope, that tomorrow is forgotten; a childish hope, that old age does not recognize; a hope that one dies away from. But then--in death, in death's decision, a hope is born in death. By this hope the sufferer, under the pain of the wish, is committed to the Good. So it is with the hope in which the sufferer, as though from afar off, reaches out toward the Eternal . With faith it is still more joyful. For there is a faith that disappoints and vanishes; a faith that is lost and is repented of; there is a faith, which, when it droops is like death. But then--in death, in death's decision, a faith is won that does not disappoint, that is not repented of, that does not die: it seizes the Eternal and holds fast to it. By this faith, under the pain of the wish, the sufferer is committed to the Good. So it is with faith in which the sufferer draws the Eternal nearer to himself . But with love it is the most joyous of all. For there is a love, that blazes up and is forgotten; there is a love, that unites and divides--a love until death. But then--in death, in death's decision, there is born a love that does not flame up, that is not equivocal, that is not--until death, but beyond death, a love that endures.~° All of life is understood in terms of the Eternal and the very being of the individual is grounded in eternity. All of the trappings of this world are seen for what they are in their impermanence. A new permanence is given to be understood by us in our new found unity and depth of being. We no longer seek for anything for ourselves in this world and it is that which seeks nothing for itself that is truly transparent and pure. The Good alone is visible in and through us. The entirety of our being is bonded with the Good. For commitment to the Good is a whole-souled decision, and a man cannot, by the craft and the flattery of his tongue, lay hold of God while his heart is far away. No, for since God is spirit and truth, a man can only draw near to him by sincerity, by willing to be holy, as he is holy: by purity of heart. Purity of heart: it is a figure of speech that compares the heart to the sea, and why just to this?. On this account we compare the heart with the sea, because the purity of the sea lies in its constancy of depth and transparency)~ To achieve true depth of mind, true depth of will, true depth in unity, is to be transparent as Kierkegaard regards the true Christian to be. Everything is done for the sake of the Good ~ind it is, at the same time, a complete uniting of the will with the Eternal, and the will has reached its telos with the Eternal. This is the end point of the life of Simplicity, bringing us to wholeness in the Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 331 presence of God as opposed to losing "self" in the manyness of the "crowd" as in the life of Complexity. Conclusion Kierkegaard wrote his book as a collection of addresses which could be read at different times, with the reader still finding them of value. The result is that many of the same themes are used over and over. Although each section has a distinct flavor, it is also connected to all of the others. This makes it difficult to identify any clear line of development from the beginning to the end of the book. However, general comments about both styles of life can be made, now that the pattern within each mode has been made clear. For the life of Complexity there is a general shape that could be described as an inward and downward curve. This characterizes a concern to find mean-ing within the person. There appears to be a reliance upon the natural abilities of a person as a means of self-justification. This self-justification is indicative of the notion that everything a person needs for life can be found just by looking inward hard enough to locate it all. Schleiermacher could be used as an example of a theologian who placed a great amount of emphasis on the person being able to find God by looking inward. This mode of life is dependent on the belief that there is an intrinsic value to the person as a separate entity. Once the search is conducted and, as Kierkegaard believes~ the person comes up empty in the inward search, there is a sudden reversal of direction, and the search continues by looking to other people. It is hoped that what could not be found within the person may be found in the "crowd." Once again the empha-sis is on what human beings are capable of doing for themselves, and to Kierkegaard that is unacceptable. The natural shape of the life of Simplicity would be outward and upward. This time there is an emphasis on God, who is outside of humanity, as the basis of movement on the path toward the Good. God provides all that is necessary for the journey and God gives the person value in his sight and at the same time in the eyes of the world. There is no need for justification beyond that which God has given. In the life of Simplicity God is sufficient for the person who "wills one thing." Movement toward the Good is a long, slow process since it is not natural to humanity. On the other hand, movement toward double-mindedness comes easily since it does not fit our sinful nature like a well-worn glove. The tension between the two of them is intense because Complexity has a way of imitating expressions of the Good. Life is not looked upon as a black and white matter. Life has immense areas of grey that the person depends upon God to be led through. There is another contribution that Kierk.egaard makes in his book. There, he preserves the integrity of what it is to be human and, at the same time, acknowledges the absolute sovereignty of God. We do not need to be more than what we are as persons. There is no call to greatness beyond the greatness 339 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 that we have as creations of God. The holiness of our existence is a gift of God to us. We are attracted to God because of the love he has shown for us through his Son. Our humanness has been blessed, and yet God has not been com-promised in any way. Many of the theologians of Kierkegaard's day looked for justification within humanity or within creation as represented by the natural world, but this was not something Kierkegaard could accept. He took on the difficult task of pointing to God who stands over and above all creation, and to humanity, which held a special place in the created order. Kierkegaard was clearly Lutheran in all of his basic presuppositions, and remained consistent in this position. I would suggest that an area for further study would be to see how these modes of life carry over into Kierkegaard's other writings and perhaps into his own life. NOTES ~Soren Aabye Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. trans. Douglas V. Steere (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1948), pp. 27-28. 21bid. p. 107. 31bid. p. 38. 41bid. p. 116. 5Ibid. p. I00. 7New American Standard Btble. 9Ibid. p. 80. ~2Ibid. p. 8 I. '~Ibid. pp. 126-127. ~81bid. p. 140. 2~Ibid. p. 191. 241bid. p. 206. ~71bid. p. 148. 3°Ibid. p. 150-151. ~Ibid. p. 52. SKierkegaard, Purity of Heart. p. 63. ~°Ibid. p. 79. '~Ibid. p. 88. ~31bid. p. 129. ~4Ibid. p. 127. ~6Ibid. p. 168. ~71bid. p. 51. ~91bid. p. 61. "-°Ibid. p. 151. nlbid, p. 47. "-31bid. p. 197. ~lbid. p. 93. ~6lbid. p. 122. 2Slbid. p. 158. ~91bid. p. 147. 311bid. p. 176. Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism David K. O'Rourke, O.P. Father O'Rourke is Associate Director of the Family Life Ministry for the Diocese of Oakland, CA and Adjunct Professor of Pastoral Theology at the Graduate Theological Union of Berkeley. He may be addressed: 2446 Estand Way: Pleasant Hill, CA 94523. In recent months two of America's leading scholars have made statements that bring the current direction of education for religious life seriously into question. Both of them, professors at the University of California at Berkeley, speak out of personal scholarship and accomplishments so respected that their comments merit a hearing. Speaking at the annual meeting of the American Association of Colleges in Boston, Professor Charles Muscatine, a Chaucer scholar and, from our point of view even more important, one of the most respected university educators in the United States, noted that American education has abandoned its proper role of teaching students how to make ethical judgments in favor of a concern with technical skill teaching. Speaking of the bachelor's degree, Professor Muscatine said it has become a "marvelous convenience for a mediocre society, putting passive acceptance.ahead of questioning, and propagating the danger-oias myth that technical skills are more important than ethical reasoning." His address received favorable comment in a New York Times editorial.~ The editorial continued "What am lherefor? is the student's and the teacher's perpetual question. To gain and give life skills and a glimpse of life's larger possibilities seems an appropriate answer to each of them." in a recent article in Commonweal~ Robert Bellah, Ford Professor of Sociology and Sociology Department chairman, described a structural change in American religion. Using categories of Ernst Troeltsch, which are com-monly used by students of religion, he notes that there has been a shift from the "church type" of religion, which ". we may briefly characterize as an 333 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 organic conception of the religious institution for which the defining metaphor is the Pauline image of the Body of Christ," to the "sect type" which ". views the Church primarily as a voluntary association of believers." and which sees itself"., primarily as the gathered elect and focuses on the purity of those within . " This shift, he says, parallels other shifts. There is a shift from the civic and religious ideals which provided the underpinnings to the social ameliorization we saw in our past history in the United States to an "ever growing dominance of bureaucratic individualism." There is the shift in American political power from the eastern establishment to the sunbelt capitalists of Texas and California. And there is the shift in importance from the heavy industries of the north and east to the "technologically innovative industries of the south and west." I believe that we can synthesize the statements of these two scholars into a picture of a culture, both religious and civil, that is changing the religious life we see herein the west. It is also producing the candidates for religious life we are receiving here. And because of California's influence through its control of the media it is influencing the entire United States. The dominant influence in religion is a view of church life that is religiously subjective, personally pious, politically uninvolved, technically skilled and culturally unlettered. I believe that this view can be summarized as sunbelt sectarianism. Living, teaching and ministering in Berkeley for the past fifteen years, I have had the opportunity to see the rise of this new phenomenon. In October of 1966 I joined ten other Dominicans in establishing the first Catholic com-munity at Berkeley's pioneering Graduate Theological Union. Since that day hundreds of other men and women have come here for studies. The Berkeley venture has, itself, become a model for religious, theological and pastoral studies and formation. Those studies and formation, I believe, are more and more becoming a mastery of those same technical skills that Professor Musca-tine described, and less and less a development of the art of ethical reasoning which he sees as the goal of all education. Make no mistakeabout it, the level of skills he is referring to is high, in-deed. The University of California has few equals in its ability to train men and women in the scientific, social and professional skills that make our society run. However, as the Times editorial suggests, it is far less well equipped to teach its students how to answer the question "What am I here for?" The ministerial skills we are teaching in our pastoral training centers are also of high caliber. The art of working in the community as an effective leader and on the one-to-one level is taught at least as well as in other professions, like medicine and law. Current understanding of Scripture is well taught. Tech-niques in liturgical design and performance are also taught. The broader questions, however, like the one posed by the editorial writer of the Times are not explored in a way which allows the Church's traditional answerings of the question to be brought into the discussion. 1 do not dehy Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism / 335 that they are answered. I suggest that they are answered from within the context of sunbelt sectarianism. They are not explored within the context of church as Body of Christ. The questions are answered in light of the individual's personal religious experience, frequently an experience that led to entering into religious life. They are not explored in the light of the Catholic theological tradition to which the individual is exposed after his or her arrival into theological educa-tion. The latter may be used to establish some theological foundations for ministry. It is not really used, in my experience, to establish the theological foundations for the minister. These remain what they were when the man or woman arrived. Professor Bellah points out that each of the definitions of church that he uses in his article, including the idea of the organic church and sectarianism, has found a welcome within the Christian tradition. That is true. But within the Roman Catholic tradition the view of the Church as the Body of Christ comes closer to the religious and theological tradition that lies at the heart of the Church's life than do any of the other views of church. I am suggesting, it should he obvious, that we religious have followed much the same route as the universities. In our case, however, the deviation from what we should be about is more serious. An argument could possibly be made for universities devoted to transmitting technical skills. Less°argument can be made for Catholic religious orders that are not concerned, first and foremost, with answering the question "What am I here for?" and trying to answer that question, at least in part, by drawing on the Church's theological tradition. I would like to look a bit more into the situation described by Professors Bellah and Muscatine, especially as it can be related to education for ministry and religious life, by examining three sets of opposed values drawn from their statements. The opposed values are skill mastery versus life purpose explora-tion; creativity versus passivity; ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. 1 will begin discussing skill mastery versus life purpose exploration by illustrating the differences with a story. When I first began my theological studies many years ago I was taught by one of the country's leading moral theologians. Nearing retirement age, he went on instead to become editor for the moral theology section of the Catholic Encyclopaedia. In his years as a teacher he was respected for his ability to bring speculative principles to bear on concrete issues. We were all gathered in the lecture hall for the first class of the year, and he entered the room and climbed the three steps to the large platform from which the professor lectured. Since this was the first day of class we were all waiting for him to outline the course of lectures he was to deliver. Instead he did something quite different. After walking back and forth, and pausing to look out the window obviously thinking about something, he turned and just looked at us. Then he began to talk. "Increasingly in profes- 336 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 sional education, and commonly in seminaries, it is the practice to give the student enough training and adequate skills so that he can go about his work with competence and confidence. Here," he added, "we are trying to do some-thing fundamentally different. We are trying to provide you with a framework, conceptual and personal, within which you will be able to make sense of your own lives. Then we hope that you will be able to go out and help others do the same." And then, without further comment, he began his lecture. The difference between mastering a curriculum and making sense of life can also be seen as the difference between fitting into a world of someone else's design and establishing the moral and ethical parameters of your own world. I believe that this difference is also the difference between a skilled technician and a religious leader. 'Within the context of religious education it is the difference between accepting someone else's priorities for life and recognizing the need to establish your own, and ~oing this not as a duty but as a real, personal need. Professor Muscatine's statement, translated into the context of pastoral training and religious education, would say that specialization as a self-defini-tion has replaced religious and ethical probing as a means to self-definition. And skill training for ministry has replaced learning the art of making ethical judgments as the model for education itself. The second set of opposed values, passivity versus creativity, follows from the first. The individual learning technical skills begins his learning recognizing that what he wants is the possession of another, the mastery of a technique. What is of value, the particular skill or technique, is in someone else's hands, and the student works to gain what he does not yet have. The message communicated by the learning medium values the technical master's knowl-edge, not the student's lack of that knowledge. Life-purpose clarification, on the other hand, values the student's ability to probe and explore, and assumes that, here and now, he or she possesses creative abilities. In the process of trying to make sense of life all are equal participants. While some are further along in the attempt, and the teacher, in principle, has achieved some mastery of these human arts, all have the oppor-tunity to be creatively involved. The third set of opposed values is ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. Learning to reason ethically, as opposed to an affectively directed intuition of right and wrong, let it be said, is a supremely difficult task. Deciding what to do through a rational process of assessing the proper goals and the means to those goals is a far cry from deciding, based on feelings. In effect, it means abandoning a non-effort--intuiting right and wrong, based on how the individual feels about it--for the difficult effort of establishing internally coherent and systematically logical principles of human action. 1 submit that this is an effort of prime intellectual and personal asceticism. I believe that in our education for religious life and pastoral work we are institutionalizing affective intuitionism in the place of ethical reasoning, passiv- Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism ity in the place of creativity, and skill mastery in the place of life-purpose exploration. I am not so naive as to suggest that the replaced values were realized goals in the past. What I am saying is that they were stated values. Further, I believe that we are moving from these stated values to the newer ones in response to the influence of the current view of the Church as sect. We are living with a view of church in which it is effectively defined, as Professor Bellah describes it, as a voluntary association of believers. The difference between the two views can both be pictured and symbolized by the differing means of entry into each. In the Church seen as the body of Christ new members are baptized into a community of believers and become members of Christ. They are members in the root meaning of the word, a physical part of an organic body. In the Church seen as sect the new members make a decision for Christ, and are members in virtue of that decision. The membership is not organic as much as voluntary. The new values we are institutionalizing in our training for ministry and religious life fit comfortably within the definition of church as sect. They are at odds with the view of church as an inclusive body, the Body of Christ. The values being replaced fit comfortably within the view of church as Body of Christ. They do not fit within the functioning of a church defined as sect. There are obvious advantages to the view of the Church as sect. It draws clear lines between those who will live by its values and those who do not. So it is equipped to judge those who belong and those who do not. And in an age of clashing values, it helps to know who is with you and who is not. The function-ing of the Church as sect fosters clarity of values. Greys are washed out to the advantage of the stronger blacks and whites. There are also disadvantages. A church which distinguishes between the elect and the sinners will leave the sinners behind. Placing a value on the process of making that distinction will also surface a means to do so. Since the traditional theology of the church maintains that the distinction cannot be made, an extra-theological means will have to be found, like an affective in-tuitionism. And such systems, like a zealot's hunches, can prove unreasonable. The organic view of the Church, the Church seen according to the Pauline model of the Body of Christ, has many disadvantages. It is an inclusive Church, and an inclusive church is morally muddy. Combine this moral muddiness with the emphasis on moral decision making which I advocate, and which I admit is an art very difficult to master and beyond many people, and it can be a disheartening combination. It means that we will live beset by the suspicion that our moral decisions may not be definitive. But it is also quite possible that it is this very suspicion which has led religious leaders in the past to stress the importance of learning how to make ethical decisions. Technical skills can be mastered in a way that ethical decision ' making cannot. And this fact may lead some to see skill mastery as a more worthwhile goal than moral decision making. Our current education for reli-gious life and ministry seems to embody this view. But 1 would suggest that 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 religious leadership can be,benefited more by an emphasis on moral decision making, an emphasis that is more at home in the Church seen as Body of Christ than in the Church seen as sect. NOTES I Jan. 22, 1982 2Dec. 3, 1982 The Coming Down ~Going up to Jerusalem . . ." I got used to-- There was such a dearness to it. A digging-in, yes-- A putting-t he-face-to-t he-wind . Going up to Jerusalem had its hardness. But, oh, the coming down . Coming down from Jerusalem The purpose is gone And even the trees forget their bareness and bloom again As if my journey had not been-- As if I did not leave my Love to the wind and the stars Under the snow--on a hillside . "Going up to Jerusalem." had its price, But, oh, the coming down (alone) Is beyond the counting . Sister Ann Maureen, 1.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education: Some Tentative Theses Michael J. Buckley, S.J. Father Buckley gave this as a paper at the annual meeting of Jesuit academic vice-presidents in 1982. This year Father Buckley is Barman Scholar in Residence at the University of Santa Clara, on leave from the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley. Introduction In the pages that follow, 1 have tried to suggest certain reflections around the general and troubled topic of the Jesuit, Catholic university. I do so because 1 suspect that a central problem for many administrators of such institutions lies within the vagueness or even chaotic understanding of this governing issue: what it is that they are administering. What do you mean by a "Jesuit university"?. Is it basically the same sort of thing that any Catholic university is--something clear enough in purpose, however imperfect in reali-zation; but at the same time something variant, in that the Jesuit university is staffed in part by a different religious coterie and marked by a particular historical tradition, so that one speaks primarily about "Jesuit presence" when one talks about these institutions? Or are we talking about something that is radically different when we talk about a Jesuit university? Are we talking about a university with a cultural orientation and a peculiar set of emphases that make it profoundly different from other Catholic universities, granted any number of similarities among them all--differences and similarities which the administrator should be at pains to foster? Or is there something in between? When one assumes administration of such an institution, it is not unreas-onable for such questions to be asked. Especially in a university, there is a unique value in knowing what you are doing! 339 ~141~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Appropriate as such a set of questions is, however, it presupposes too much. It presupposes that the content of "Catholic university" is itself already determined--a "cluster concept," at least, which all can recognize, agree upon, and discuss within. I think, though, that this presupposition is false. I think that "Catholic university" is as much of an ambiguity as "Jesuit university," and that many of the problems in understanding the latter stem from an incoherence in this more fundamental premise. Since that is my conviction, 1 have structured the theses of this article accordingly. 1 have first set down a series of statements which I think are true about Catholic universities in general, and then I have stated how I think these either have been or could be realized in the Jesuit university. The normal difficulties of such a task of description or definition are increased enormously for American Jesuits by a second fact, one which also touches the presuppositions for a series of questions on the nature of Jesuit higher education: American Jesuits are almost universally unaware of, or indifferent to some central foundational documents in their tradition. A strik-ing example of this was provided by a remark of Father George Ganss~ on the initial options posed byProject One:2 The second feature of Project One (Volume 4) which strikes this writer is the virtually total lack of references to or use of Part IV of Ignatius' Constitutions, the locus where he most succinctly, clearly and authoritatively enshrined his educational theory or rationale. That theory is his own application of the dynamic and apostolic world view towards which God led him . In Part IV of the Constitutions, he applied it to the formation of Christian persons in the secondary schools and universities which he founded and administered.3 In a subsequent discussion with Father Ganss, a prominent Jesuit educator remarked that the Fourth Part of the Constitutions was not only absent from the written reports of Project One, but from almost all of its discussions as well. It would be instructive, perhaps, to discover how many Jesuits have some knowledge of the characteristic elements which Ignatius placed in the Fourth Part of the Constitutions, as distinct from those which subsequent Jesuit educators specified in the Ratio studiorum.4 If Jesuits do not know the unique genius of their own origin in education, they cannot define a present stand for themselves in education by "dialoguing with their tradition." They are left to follow in their adaptations: (a) usages within their own memories and (b) the patterns and directions they find in American secular education. Perhaps the reason for the repeated failures of commissions, conferences and programs for Jesuit higher education is that these have represented individual or collective initiatives at particular periods, but initiatives without continuity with the organic development of the Society. Isolated from this continually evolving tradition, these initiatives lived briefly and died. Whatever be the accuracy of this reading of our present awareness of our Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / :341 historical meaning, 1 have tried to formulate the theses of this article with one such central foundational document in mind--the most important document, in my opinion: the Fourth Part of the Jesuit Constitutions. 1 do so, not because 1 think that American Jesuits of the twentieth century can or should copy or repeat these individual provisions, but because these spell out in the concrete Ignatius' view of higher education. Perhaps by looking at what might seem, at first blush, quaint or antiquated, the contemporary Society could sketch more perceptively an outline of what it is about today and enrich its self-understanding by drawing from its tradition some of its unrealized possibilities. The difficulty of any de~nitional inquiry is that its language must be prescriptive as well as descriptive, i.e. it must say something about what this thing is to become as well as describe what it de facto is. Consequently, any discussion of the idea of a university will always suffer from the accusation of irreality. But the value of such prescriptive discourse is that it can present something of a vision of what the institution might become and a goal towards which human beings might marshall their efforts. Finally, these theses are insistently entitled tentative. They are my first attempt to do something along these lines, and I am anxious to obtain modifi-cations, corrections, and suggestions of alternatives. The value of the Renais-sance "thesis method" was that positions were laid down which reflected a serious judgment and were stated with a precision and in a common language which made discussion and disagreement possible. The liability of the thesis method was that it tended towards defensiveness, polemics, and inflexibility. Let me attempt to allow for these deficiencies by positing these theses as "exploratory," as being a number of statements that I think are true and which are stated as directly as possible in order to invite the reflections of the reader. Hence, to speak again from the customs of an earlier time: "salvo meliore iudicio . " 1. The Nature of a Catholic University Thesis 1: The problem of the Catholic university is falsely stated if it is framed as if this university and the Church were two distinct, though inter-connected institutions. Counterposition: Father Timothy Healy, S.J., in "Belief and Teaching," Georgetown Magazine (January-February, 1982), p. 3: How does the Church live within a university? How do the two institutions interact on common ground?. The Church also lives here [in a Catholic university] in two distinct ways: first, it leads its own life on our grounds; secondly, the Church joins in, shares and influences the life and the work of the university itself. Comment: Such an understanding does not do justice either to the historical nature of the Catholic university or to its intrinsic uniqueness. Father Healy's "two distinct ways" could describe the presence of the Church within any major secular society, such as the City of New York. Catholic universities, in 342 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 contrast, are institutions founded by the Church, supported by the Church, and oriented to a unique service of the Church. Such a university is "Catholic" in a way that no city or state could be. Thesis 2: The Catholic university cannot be defined simply as a university where there is a strong Catholic presence. Counterposition: Father Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., "A Catholic Presence," Amer-ica, (5 April 1969), p. 397: A human institution is not transformed into a supernatural one; it simply offers an opportunity to persons with religious belief to share the life and the work of a university community--in freedom and sympathy that supports them . The quality and intensity of their presence will make its mark on the university . To have a Catholic university, then, means to have a Catholic presence at the university. Comment: The same cricitism could be offered of this understanding as of the first, with the added remark that it is actually a description of a secular university with an active and influential Newman or Catholic Faculty Club. Both this and the previous descriptions attempt to determine the Catholic university as being a university in which the Church is one important element. Thesis 3: The Catholic university cannot be described as Catholic simply through the activities of campus ministry, the presence of religious and Catholic lay faculty, and a requirement in religious studies. Counterposition: "Goals and Guidelines of the University of Santa Clara," January, .1979: If we are to honor our heritage, we must assure that Santa Clam remains a Catholic and Jesuit university in more than name only. We do this now in many ways: the activities of the Campus Ministry Office: the involvement of Jesuits and campus lay people in all areas of campus life: the presence of spiritual counselors in the dormitories; the com-mitment of men and women in the Christian Life Community to service of God and mankind; the exposure of all undergraduate students to courses in the Department of . Religious Studies; and the role of the Mission Church as both the symbol of Santa Clam's heritage and a dynamic focus of Christian activity. Comment: In this understanding, the purpose in the Church which the Univer-sity of Santa Clara is to serve is not articulated. Most of the presence of the Church is assigned to campus ministry and segregated off from the formally academic integration of the university and its more general intellectual life. The university exists for mental culture, but, aside from religious studies, Catholic reflection and theology are allotted no pervasive place within the development of such a culture. Thesis 4: The Catholic university is one form of the Church, one of the communities which are integral to the universal Church, as much a Catholic community as is the parish, the monastery, the family, a secular institute, a communidad de base, and a diocese. These differ radically among themselves, each having its own members, constitu-tion, government, origins and purpose. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 3113 Comment: "Such an ecclesial origin of the university cannot have been fortui-tous. Rather it seems to express something more profound. But why does the Church need the university?. The reason for this need should be sought in the very mission of the Church. In fact, the faith which the Church announces is a tides quaerens intellectum: a faith that demands to penetrate human intelligence, to be thought out by the intellect of the human person. Not by placing it alongside what intelligence can know by its own natural light, but by permeating from within this same knowledge" (Pope John Paul II, "The Church Needs the University," March 8, 1982, L'Osservatore Romano, Eng-lish edition [3 May, 1982], p. 6). In the same address, the pope refers to these institutions as a necessity for the Church. Thesis 5: The Catholic university is that Catholic community in which the Church "strives to relate all human culture to the gospel of salva-tion" (Gravissimum Educationis, no. 8). This relationship is con-cretely to be realized both in the development of its students and in the advancement of this integral knowledge by its faculty. Another way of making this claim: "Secondly, the university is Catholic in its deliberate determination to render the Church this unique service: to be a forum where in utter academic freedom the variant lines of Catholic tradition and thought can intersect with the most complex challenges, contradictions and reinforcements of contemporary thought, moving towards a unity of world and Word, that all things be assimilated into the Christ. No other institution within human culture can render this critically important contribu-tion to the Christian community (as a whole), and without it the commitments of faith disintegrate into sectarian polemics whose only strength lies in their isolation from contradicting contact" (Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "The Catholic University as Pluralistic Forum," Thought 46:181 [June, 1971], p. 208). Comment: The Catholic university, then, essentially includes within itself the presence and the unique contribution of non-Catholics as well as the academic freedom which makes open discussion possible. Without the presence of vari-ant tradition it would be impossible that the Church could sponsor this rela-tion of the Gospel with "all human culture." Both Catholic and non-Catholic faculty have an appropriate contribution to. make to the advancement of the life of the Catholic university, and what is asked from faculty and students is not a particular credal affiliation, but that they be willing to enter into the conversations about those questions which constitute the formal academic character of the Catholic university (theses I 1 and 12 below). This integration of the Gospel with .culture demands especially the presence and contribution of non-Catholic Christians whose perspectives p~sh the radical questions about what Christianity really is, and what it really means, in the contemporary world. This means that the Catholic university is not the Church nor a microcosm of the Church nor even a community composed only of believers. Such a 3l~l~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 university is, however, rather one modality or form which the Church in-ternally develops in order to reach its full stature, in order to become what it must be. It is an assimilative sub-community of the Church, i.e. one that assimilates into the reflection consequently upon the Gospel the vast pluralism of persons and persuasions representative of"all human culture,"a community whose institutional determination is to render to the Church universal this unique service. The autonomy of the Catholic university from controls that would be properly exercised over a diocese or a parish is essential. This academic freedom from external controls is essential not only for its authen-ticity as a university, but for that comprehensive, free discourse which alone can offer the Church serious, disinterested, and uninhibited inquiry. Thesis 6: Hence, the Catholic university as a unique Catholic community is, like any Christian communit.v, essentially sacramental, i.e. that community which, with historical continuity and tangible percepti-bility, makes present for all human beings now the realit.v of Christ drawing all human culture to himself. Another way of making this claim: It is in and through the Catholic university that the mission of Christ to draw all human culture to himself is given historical continuity and visibility in the twentieth century. Comment: The Catholic university is not a university in which the Church has a strong presence. The Catholic university is itself, and as a whole, a presence of the Church. Thesis 7: The manner in which this understanding of the university is mani-fested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by (1) stipulating that the entire college[university is a residence of the Society, i.e., the entire college/university is a Christian, religious community (Formula of the Institute (5), (8)," Const. 289)," (2) orienting both the schools of humane letters and of natural science to their integration with theology (446-452); (3) insisting upon the Christian service for which these studies are undertaken, often concretized as .future teaching, and generalized as "the glory of God and the good of souls" (Const. 440; 289-290; 351; 446; 622). Comment: This orientation towards service received striking expression by Ignatius on December I, 1551: From among those who are now merely students, some in time will depart to play diverse roles--one to preach and carry on the care of souls, another to government of the land and the administration of justice, and others to other occupations. Finally. since young boys become grown men. their good education in life and doctrine will be beneficial to many others, with the results expanding more widely every day (Monu-menta Historica Societatis lesu. Epp. Ign. IV. p. 9). II. The Administration of a Catholic University Thesis 8: The academic leadership or administration within a Catholic uni- Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 345 versity is essentially a religious ministry. By "religious ministry" is meant something quite specific, namely that it is the. responsibility of the administration that the sacramental finality of the Catholic university be realized: the integration of human culture and the Gospel. This ministry is intellectual leadership, but that does not make it less religious. It bears directly upon the intellectual service of God, a pervasive ministerium verbi (Ministry of the Word), in which the Word is translated into varying cultures, in which a more accurate understanding is gained by its encounter with and advancement of these cultures and in which a new synthe-sis is obtained between faith and all forms of knowledge. This ministerium verbi is the first ministry which the Formula of the Institute lists in its enumer-ation of Jesuit apostolic commitments. The universities have a unique function in this ministry: to advance and to synthesize the Gospel and all forms of human culture. Comment: Thus the president, the academic vice-president, the deans, the provost--whoever de facto preside over the life of the university have a pro-foundly synthetic religious leadership as their primary task. Their leadership is not "religious" as opposed to "academic" or intellectual"---that is precisely the dichotomy that the university is to deny. But it must be stated that if the leader of any Christian community--be it a Catholic university or parish or family or monastery or hospital--is not persuaded of the appropriately religious charac-ter of his or her leadership, then the community drifts into secularization. Thesis 9: The manner in which this understanding of university[college administration is manifested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by the insistence upon the personal religious character of its rector (423) and upon the religious quality of his leadership, with learning and Christian life placed as a single finality (424, 490). Comment: There are no grounds for asserting that separate incorporation removes the essentially religious nature of Jesuit university leadership. It is not the case that the division of functions between rector and president meant that one was religious and the other secular: The rector of the community is the religious leader of the Jesuit commu-nity, and his function is to govern it in such a way that it is Jesuit in its life and supports this apostolate to which it is committed. The president of the Jesuit university is the religious leader of the univer-sity, and his function is to administer it in such a way that its life promotes that intellectual and moral integration of all human culture with the Gospel which is its purpose. See Pedro Arrupe, S.J., "The Image of the Jesuit University President," (August 8, 1975) Documentation 27/2. III. The Formal, Academic Catholic Character of the Catholic University Thesis 10: The formal character of any" university is not constituted by the 346 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 elimination or by the presence ~f any particular discipline. Comment: A university, to be a university, should include whatever passes as serious and disciplined knowledge. The exclusign of theology from a particular university does not mean in itself that it has excluded religious commitment; per se it means that it has fallen that short of being a university. On the other hand, the presence of Catholic theology on a university campus does not necessarily indicate that the university is Catholic; it indicates that it is just that much more a university. Thesis 11: The formal, academic character of any university is constituted by the order of the questions which are entertained and by the kind of knowledge which is considered most worth having. Comment: One would not expect restrictions upon discourse and study at the University of California at Davis, or at MIT, or at the University of Santa Clara. But the priorities in the issues to be investigated or the knowledge considered either fundamental or most important will be different in these different institutions. This trait will constitute the difference among them. " Thesis 12: The Catholic academic character of a university will be constituted by the quality and the influence of its theology, i.e. by the depth, rigor, and thoroughness with which theological inquiry is con-ducted and by the integrating influence of theology upon all of the other disciplines taught in the university. A Catholic university is one in which Catholic theology acts as an architectonic wisdom, one which draws the arts and the sciences and the engagements of the professional schools into an ongoing conversation about pre-suppositions, consequences, and common themes. Thesis 13." The Constitutions exhibit this understanding of the Catholic aca-demic character of the university primarily in the principal empha-sis which they give to theology (446). Literature, natural sciences and philosophy are oriented to this theological wisdom: their study prepares the students for the serious engagement in theology; theology unifies knowledge into a single understanding of the world, into a wisdom; the orientation of all learning tends to the same end ultimately as theology (447-451). Comment: The place of theology given by the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus is really quite different from that allotted to it by, say, Newman's Idea of a University. In Newman, theology would be one element among others in a circle of knowledge which forms the "philosophical habit of mind." In Igna-tius, theology is the principal and governing discipline in which the humane letters and sciences reach their natural completion (446, 450). Thesis 14: The formal academic curriculum of a Catholic university must be sustained by the surrounding presence of a more general Catholic culture that makes the daily life of the university itself. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 347 Comment: Examples of this "more general Catholic culture" would be found in the quality and seriousness of its worship, the character of its collective morality and social concerns, the pastoral care of one member for another, the seminars and general lectures which it fosters, the atmosphere of intellectual and religious interests, and so forth (see Const. 481-489). IV. Agents of Integration of Faith with Culture Thesis 15: Granted this integrating function as the primary work of the administration, the principal administrator must be aided in his responsibility by subordinate officials whose ministry it is to see that this integration permeates the intellectual life (the Academic Vice-President), the social life (Vice-President for Student Affairs), and the religious life of the university (the University Chaplain). Thesis 16: Such an integral view of the Catholic university can never be realized if "campus ministry" is only or principally composed of those who are not part of the academic community and who confine themselves to the ob.viously liturgical and pastoral en-gagements of the university, i.e. if campus ministry confines itself to a "sacristy" or even to an "activist "function. Thesis 17: "Campus ministry" should be that interdepartmental committee whose function it is to assist the president in some aspects of his religious ministry to the Catholic university, i.e. the integration of faith with culture/life. Such a staff or committee is necessary because too many of the possibilities for such an integration can-not be realized in the present departmental divisions: members of the various departments should be invited to become members of this interdepartmental staff, composed of the University Chaplain and members of the university faculty, and full-time staff members. These are some implications and possibilities envisaged by this thesis: 1. The head of "campus ministry" should be the University Chaplain of the school, with the rank of vice-president to assist the president in his general religious ministry of the integration of faith and culture. 2. The majority of the members of the "campus ministry" committee or staff would also be members of other departments and schools. 3. Areas of religious integration which are open to such a "campus ministry" would be for example: a. Sponsorship of a religious/academic bookstore which would be a cen-ter of regular discussions, lectures, and seminars on the integration of faith and culture. b. Introduction into the campus of the great range of prophetic and intel-lectual movements within the Church, such as the Catholic Workers, Charis-matics, liturgical groups, Pax Christi, Rural Life Conference, Christian Family Life, Jesuit Volunteers--for the possibilities both of critique and of assimila- 341~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 tion into the life of the university. c. Sponsorship of prolonged engagements in Christian service which would be planned, supervised and reflected upon for their Christian elements and which would be of such an academic quality that the theology department could recognize them as legitimate courses. d. Through the presence of campus ministry on various academic commit-tees, planning groups, and other representative bodies, a continual source of the questions about the integration between these plans or programs and the purpose of the university. e. Through their presence within placement offices, career planning and counseling centers, a challenge to the university community, that the teachers would understand their lives and the students plan their futures as vocations rather than simply careers,.i.e, as a way of life and service within the world which is a response to the call of God in their lives, rather than a positive evaluation of obvious and secularly justifiable options. f. Organization of a rich and full liturgical life, which embodies such possibilities as the Morning and Evening Prayer of the Church, a eucharistic liturgy which follows the variations and harmony of the liturgical year, a series of "university sermons," etc., and which so integrates the university as a whole at certain solemn occasions that it is the university, as this form of the Church, which is at prayer. Thesis 18: To act as an architectonic wisdom, Catholic theolog.v must be restored as an integral discipline, distinct both from the more gen-eral "religious studies "and from an eclectic amalgam of disparate courses in Scripture or ethics or spirituality. "Theology "is here understood as an inquiry into the natu~'e, influence and claims of God as revealed in Christ, and "religious studies "as an investiga-tion of the nature and varieties of religions or confessions which have emerged in human history. Comment: As the architectonic discipline which integrates and marks a Catholic university, theology should be in constant interchange with the other sciences and arts, with the other schools, studies, and activities of the univer-sity. Theology gains in content and in method in its encounters with other disciplines; the other disciplines are drawn beyond themselves into a general academic unity by their discussions with theology. What kind of presence or curriculum-order is necessary to obtain such a dialogue can only be deter-mined by experience, but it should be of such a character as (a) to maintain theology as a serious and systematic study and (b) to constitute it in a synthetic unity with all the other aspects of the university. Thesis 19: Thus both theology and "campus ministry" have an integrating function within the university. Everything within the university is the object of the theological faculty as it attempts to move towards a synthetic vision which is a Christian wisdom, and of "campus Jesuit, Cathofic Higher Education Thesis 21: ministry" as it attempts to introduce that vision into practice and expand it in areas not under the purview of various departments. The manifestation of the sacramental nature of the Catholic uni-versity, i.e., of the historical presence of Christ drawing all human culture to himself, is to be found in every aspect of the university: in the priorities among the questions investigated and in the knowl-edge thought essential," in the quality of the intellectual, moral and religious life on campus; in the criteria by which decisions are reached and investments made; in the kind of recruitment informa-tion, of students admitted, and of faculty hired, and so forth. The Jesuit community is that local community of Jesuits who both collectively and individually minister to this kind of university. How it does so would be the subject of another twenty theses,t NOTES ~The Reverend George E. Ganss, S.J. is the distinguished translator and editor of the English version of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. 2Project One was an attempt of the American Jesuits, initiated in 1973 and extending over the next four or five years, to identify and evaluate their goals and efforts in the apostolate of education. 3Project One, Volume #5, pp. 194-195. 4The Ratio Studiorum is the successively revised Jesuit plan of studies, an organization of curricula and of instructional methods rather than an exposition of educational theory. "What Should I Wear Today?" Thomas Ryan, C.S.P. Father Ryan is associate director of the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism. He is the author of Fasting Rediscovered: A Guide to Health and Wholeness for Your Body-Spirit and Tales of Christian Unity (Paulist Press). He may be addressed at the center: 2065 Ouest, Rue Sherbrooke; Montreal H3H IG6; Canada. I got up this morning and stood before my closet and asked: "What should I wear today?" Not so long ago the question felt like a helpful freedom; more and more it is feeling like a bother, and I frequently find myself resenting the loss of time and energy as I stand there in morning grogginess trying to answer the question. Where 1 live we probably face it more than would be the case elsewhere, yet Quebec is certainly not the only place in North America where the religious uniform has been traded in for secular dress. The history here is unique, but some of its consequences are shared with the rest of the continent. Some twenty years ago in a cultural revolution in Quebec, Canada, the Church was perceived to be too friendly with a government that had permitted the English to keep the key positions of economic influence and kept the French down on the farm. Both the Church and English economic dominance were thrown off like unwanted and resented yokes by the increasingly nationalistic French majority. Education and the university became the new place of worship and the leaders of the Parti Qubbbcois, the new high priests of the society. In the period of anticlericalism that followed, the French clergy traded in their clericals for ties and turtlenecks, and the sign of contradiction was reduced to a cross on a suit-coat lapel. "The anticlericalism was so pronounced," explained one sister who lived through it, "that at any public meeting we would go to, we were condemned by our apparent association with the Church before we even opened our mouths. We priests and sisters began dressing in 350 "What Should 1 Wear Today?"/ ~151 civies just to get a fair hearing and have what we were saying evaluated on its own merit." Among the English clergy in Quebec, there are enough "ties" or enough "collars" present to leave one genuinely feeling free in either direction. In other words, there is an unpressured climate for each person to sort through the value questions involved and make a choice, knowing the "tie" will not mean "radical" nor clericals mean "conservative." When I said jokingly to a confrere this evening that 1 was going to submit an article to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entitled "What Should 1 Wear Today?" he immediately responded, "Oh, you mean, 'Who am I going to see today?"' He was quite right, and that's part of what bothers me. When l'm going to be meeting with Orthodox clergy, I wear black. When l'm going to be meeting With Protestant clergy, ! wear a tie. When they're both going to be there, 1 find myself playing one off against the other in my mind in a kind of who's-more-important- to-me game. What I am uncomfortable with is that it's my projection of the other's reaction to me that guides the decision. Where are my own convictions in the matter? 1 was thrown back on that question because I caught myself feeling like l'd made the "wrong" (political, not moral) decision. One day I put on a suit and tie to speak at a clergy study-day in the neighboring province of Ontario. When I arrived and saw all the collars and religious habits I was reminded again of what a different world Ontario is from Quebec. "Are you a local minister?" (he meant Protestant) asked one clerically-attired person who turned out to be a permanent deacon. The irony was rich. So I asked myself on the way home, "What are your values on this question?" Some years ago I was in an identity group of seminarians as part of a training program for counselors at the Center for Religion and Psychiatry in Washington, D.C. We spent a few sessions on the question, "What does it mean for me to wear or not wear a collar?" It's certain that not all of the participants drew the same conclusions from those discussions, but the operating principle that evolved for me from our reflections was a variation of "The habit does not make the monk." Dress that identifies me as a religious person is a means. If it will be likely to help advance some pastoral situation, use it. If it is likely to get in the way (as may be the case on college campuses with university students), don't use it. During that formative period, the important thing seemed to be secure enough in my own identity that I didn't need the collar as a crutch. Satisfied that my identity as a priest and religious was anchored within, and not in what I wore without, I proceeded to live these past years with no consistent external mode of dress. Yet, the question is not settled with me. Where the above rationale breaks down is in the presumption that I can always accurately project which mode of dress will be a pastoral asset or liability. In our secularized society, there is a growing Catholic consciousness of our mission for evangelization. We are becoming more aware of the importance of each of us witnessing, according to 359 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 our occupation and way of life,to a faith-centered existence. This awareness is perhaps renewing our appreciation of sacramentals and their potential to be an occasion of reflection for the casual passerby. To the extent that a mode of dress conveys a religious meaning, it qualifies as a sacramental. On this question of sacramentals, Sacramentum Mundi notes that "the statements of the Constitution on the Liturgy point to an emphasis on their character as a sign. But they do not answer the fundamental question, whether the sacramentals are not part of a special religious world which may be outdated by. the present-day experience of existence in the world. This [question]. has particularly far-reaching consequences for the usage of the sacramentals and hence for their theology, which must concen-trate fundamentally on their apt and proper use . Religion must not be seen in purely transcendental terms or merely as a dimension in depth. It must be classified in the category of a sphere of religious manifestations . The difference between nature and grace, and between the present and the coming age, justifies the existence of an order of sacred signs which express and manifest this difference." The habit, the collar, the cross, have not lost their power to be a sign of transcendence or of contradiction, a symbol that casts a question. But I do not always have the courage or the desire to stand apart. Or sit apart, for that matter. When I'm on the bus, I've noticed people will generally not sit next to "a collar" if there's another choice. On a plane, where people don't know who they're choosing to sit next to, 1 often feel more-than-the-usual hesitancy on the part of the other to normal social discourse. Or the reverse happens and one finds oneself in a not-so-private counseling session. And on the street corner while waiting for the light, I try not to notice the out-of-the-corner-of-the- eye glances that indicate one is being coolly appraised: "Hmm! What is a young (median clergy age today: 50!), intelligent-looking (well, at least my sister says that my receding hair line makes me look more 'intellectual'), athletic (I confess: it is getting harder) person like that doing in the priesthood?" When 1 was living for a time with a family in France, the mother said to me one day, "If you catch our guests kind of staring at you sometimes, don't take it personally. It's just that for us a young priest is, well, a very curious beast." What I'm coming to recognize is that there's going to be a negative reaction on the part of some people whichever way one dresses, and a positive reaction on the part of others. Furthermore, the guideline, "What will help or hinder my pastoral effectiveness in any given situation?" seems more and more presumptuous to me. Who can ever really know what happens in the hearts and minds of people when they see a priest in his clericals? If presumptive guesses about what others want, will be pleased by, or will derive benefit from are unreliable, then what is there to guide me? My answer is: my desire to make my life an articulate sign of the gospel I am trying to live. I am closer now than 1 was five or seven years ago to seeing how religious symbolism in dress can be an effective concretization of that desire. But as long "' What ShouM I Wear Today?"/ 353 as religious garb is connected with actions or life-styles that do not clearly reflect gospel living (which will always be the case to some extent), clericals or a religious habit will never be an entirely reliable symbol of communication. Thus it is that my choice on any given day is made with a certain flexibility and tentativeness, and with a sense of its built-in limitations in either direction. I was recently in a conversation with a group of priests and one of them told a story on four of the others that illustrates the point. "When I met you at the port on the first stop of your Caribbean cruise, 1 was surprised to see you were all wearing clericals," said the recounter of the tale. "Ah yes," one of the four affirmed, "we were not pleased with the cabins we'd been given, so we were trying to influence the ship's captain." "And?" "Oh it worked quite nicely. For the rest of the trip we were given any available suite." That's why many of the priests in. Montreal have switched to ties and coats. But I wonder sometimes on the buses and subways and street corners whether anybody sees that little cross on their lapel, and I wonder if we're using all available means of witnessing to the presence of God in a society hungering for meaning and ready to respect people who stand for something. If you and I should meet, what will I be wearing? Well, I'll probably be wearing the question inside and wondering if I made the best choice that day! The Incarnation and Chariots of Fire Halbert Weidner, C.O. Father Weidner published an account of the spirituality of the Oratory in our issue of November, 1979. He continues to reside at South Carolina's Oratory, the mailing address of which is P.O. Box 11586; Rock Hill, SC 29370. The Liturgy of the Hours has been enriched with an appendix of poetry and among the most recent poets represented there are the remarkable British pair of Edwin Muir (1881-1959) and Kathleen Raine (born in 1908). Muir is a poet much admired by such different writers as T.S. Eliot and Thomas Merton. Kathleen Raine's work on William Blake remains current and widely read. Her poetry, autobiographies, and critical works have drawn much praise and attention. Both authors are religious writers in the most profound sense of the term and, as poets and pilgrims, have something to say to both believers and unbelievers. Muir is relatively unknown in this country despite a sojourn at Harvard and, with his wife Willa, being established as the first and most popular translator of Franz Kafka. Muir is not a consciously modern poet. In fact, his devotion to tradition and accessibility may put off the professional literati. Still, T.S. Eliot said of him: He was first and foremost deeply concerned with what he had to say--and by that l do not mean that his purpose was ever didactic or that he was striving to convey a "message." But under the pressure of emotional intensity, and possessed by his vision, he found, almost unconsciously, the right, the inevitable way of saying what he wanted to say.~ The best introduction to the poet is his own story, An Autobiography. He was born in the Orkney Islands, off the north coast of Scotland, and so is claimed by Scots. Muir himself says his native language was really a mixture of Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 355 Norse, Scots, and Irish. Indeed, such words as creels (fishing baskets), bannocks (a fiat, unleavened bread), and byres (cow-sheds) are evenly woven into the narrative of his childhood. For Muir, the islands were not on the edge of the world, but were the "heart of civilization." The seasons nurtured each their own phase of an ancient culture. The Winter gathered us into one room as it gathered the cattle into the stable and the byre; the sky came close; the lamps were lit at three or four in the afternoon, and then the great evening lay before us like a world: an evening filled with talk, stories, games, music and lamplight? This winter time gave Muir his first introduction to poetry. The early ballads sung in the home came from an oral tradition about James V and Sir James the Rose. These songs were sung with full voice and personal confidence. Other ballads, late in the tradition, were "chanted in a literary way, in honor of the print in which they had originally come, every syllable of the English text carefully pronounced, as if it were an exercise."3 Spring carried the sacred rituals of breeding and killing--both aspects of farm life his mother tried to prevent him from seeing. He made sure, of course, that he saw both--though the activities of the bull and cow were not understood and the excitement was all in the activities of the men directing the affair. He did not, in the slaughtering, pity the animals, but somehow touched the terror and the need which were inextricably bound up in the process. "There was a necessity in the copulation and the killing which took away the sin, or at least, by the ritual act, transformed it into a sad, sanctioned duty.TM The spring, a series of vivid happenings, gave way to the summer, its opposite: a "motionless blue" in which "nothing happened." This nothingness demanded acceptance as the pivot marking the time of growth. This in turn gave way to the hard work of autumn and the feasts that defined the line between harvest and the winter. And so it went with each winter being favorite season of the farmer's child because it was the family time for play and song and story. The family religion was a fundamentalist Calvinism which combined early baptism with the stern demands for a later conversion and personal claim to being born-again. Muir's conversion, under severe pressure from his family, was sincere, but barely a prelude to his lapse from Christianity. His disbelief was, moreover, also the result of pressure. This time the strain came from the deaths of his parents and of two of his brothers when the family moved, in hopes of better employment, to the industrialized city of Glasgow. It was as if the Muir family in a few short years had been required to pay the price of the industrial revolution's whole century of devastation. "All that time," Muir remembered, "seemed to give no return, nothing but loss; it was like a heap of dismal rubbish in the middle of which, without rhyme or reason, were scattered four deaths.''~ The great city of free enterprise could not replace the agricultural community that once bridged birth and death with faith and ritual. As a young man forced out early on his own, Muir moved just south of 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Glasgow to earn his living in what might have been the Checkpoint Charlie of hell: a bone factory. "The bones," he tells us, "decorated with festoons of slowly writhing, fat yellow maggots, lay in the adjoining railway siding and were shunted into the factory whenever the furnaces were ready for them." There was only one major problem: "There were sharp complaints from Glasgow whenever the trucks lay too long in the siding, for the sea gulls could gobble up half a hundredweight of maggots in no time, and as the bones had to be paid for by their original weight, and the maggots were part of it, this meant a serious loss to the firm."~ Thus necessity introduced the factory's most important ritual: a shotgun blast into the air over the trucks each half hour. It was in this atmosphere that Muir began a ferocious personal quest which included reading philosophy seriously. This led to Nietzsche and to a kind of socialism. He abandoned the tough Christianity of his family for a soft belief in "process." "Be hard' was one of Nietzsche's exhortations," Muir tells us, "but I was not hard enough to give up Nietzsche." Muir's hunger for ideas, as well as for communicating them, attracted the attention of A.R. Orage, editor of the New Age and a genius for gathering talented, left-wing, and sometime elitist writers. Muir had a high opinion of Orage, but a low one of his own work for him. Muir's column, "We Moderns," revealed, said Muir, that "whenever I hit upon a paradox which lay conveniently near the surface I took it for the final truth."7 Still, Muir was the rarest of twentieth-century beings: a non-university educated revolutionary. A marriage, "the most fortunate event of my life," led to a move into London for economic reasons. Eventually journalism and translation work allowed them the adventure of moving to Prague. This city became for them what Paris was for American expatriates: a city riding the crest of a billowing tradition and arriving at the edge of revolutionary changes. Now in his mid-thirties, Muir began writing poetry. "I had no training; 1 was too old to submit myself to contemporary influences; and I had acquired in Scotland a deference towards ideas which made my entrance into poetry difficult. Though my imagination had begun to work I had no technique by which I could give expression to it." He was a poet in the middle of life caught between a change in poetic consciousness. "There were the rhythms of English poetry on the one hand, the images in my mind on the other. All I could do at the start was to force the one, creaking and complaining, into the mould of the other."s In Muir's case, the distance provided by his experience of Prague as the far country, and some early psychoanalysis and dream work, led to a recovery of the childhood geography and the roots engendered there. If poetry incarnates meaning, as Muir believed, then this geography literally provided the ground for Muir's poems. He acknowledges this in his life's last poem: I have been taught by dreams and fantasies Learned from the friendly and the darker phantoms And got great knowledge and courtesy from the dead Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 357 Kinsmen and kinswomen, ancestors and friends But from two mainly Who gave me birth? This healing recovery of his roots and reconcilation with much of his unconscious gave birth to his poetry at the very time that Europeans were destroying their past: "They were lost and on the road to greater loss, and ready to accept any creed which would pull their lives together and give them the enormous relief of finding, even under compulsion, a direction for their existence, whether it had a spiritual meaning or not.''~° Muir saw the political left and right taking over the violent spirit of his native country's religious past: they were like the old Scottish covenanters who went into battle with banners reading "Christ and No Quarter." During the time of no quarter, Muir returned to Britain and began his eight-year association with the British Council, an organization promoting British culture. Prior to the war, Muir's office in Edinburgh set up houses for refugees and introduced them to British life. During this time Muir wrote more poetry in the midst of administration and the central issues of the day than he had in previous and more solitary jobs. British Council work eventually led him to Rome and his first major encounter with cultural Catholicism. It was here that he had his encounter with the Incarnation: During the time when I was a boy I attended the United Presbyterian Church in Orkney. I was aware of religion chiefly as the sacred Word. but nothing told me that Christ was born in the flesh and had lived on earth. [But in Rome] that image was to be seen everywhere, not only in churches, but on the walls of houses, at cross-roads in the suburbs, in wayside shrines in the parks, and in private rooms. I remember stopping for a long time one day to look at a little plaque on the wall of a house in the Via degli Artisti, representing the Annunciation. An angel and a young girl, their bodies inclined towards each other, their knees bent as if overcome by love, "tutto tremante," gazed upon each other like Dante's pair; and that representation of a human love so intense that it could not reach farther seemed the perfect earthly symbol of the love that passes understanding.~ Before Rome, a friend had pointed out to Muir that he was Christian in his images and his metaphysics. It had not occurred to him, but he accepted it. What the encounter in Rome did for Muir was to support him in his conclusion that mystery was at the source of life, that it lived and touched us, incarnate in what were not "mere" symbols, but the final reality. Symbols, which Yeats said united the "sleeping with the waking mind," also unite us to each other and to the generating reality that cares for all, past and present. Incarnation was a delight and good news to Muir, for whom nothing airy and abstract could hold the truth: "A religion that dared to show forth such a mystery for everyone to see would have shocked the congregations of the north, would have seemed a sort of blasphemy, perhaps even an indecency. But here it was publicly shown, as Christ showed himself on the earth."12 In the conclusion to his autobiography, Muir anticipated the theologians of our time in their interest in the theology of story: ~1511 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 As I look back on the part of the mystery which is my own life, my own fable, what 1 am most aware of is that we receive it from the past, on which we draw with every breath, but also--and this is a point of faith--from the Source of the mystery itself, by the means which religious people call grace.~3 When we read of this mystery in Muir's poems, we are struck by the plain language. But the poems demand rereading before the light that comes from the depths of human experience begins to dawn. One poem in the Liturgy of the Hours is called "One Foot in Eden" and may be taken as an example. It is composed of twenty-nine short lines of ordinary words~ but in it Muir has communicated a highly developed reflection on the necessity of choosing experience over innocence and then given depth to the Easter cry of O Felix Culpa.t Muir's Eden is both a place of innocence which must be given up and an impossible Utopia which must not be succumbed to. The world outside Eden awaits a judgment for its failings, but also attention to its special value: Blossoms of grief and charity Bloom in these darkened fields alone. What has Eden ever to say Of hope and faith and pity and love. Strange blessings never in Paradise Fall from these beclouded skies.~4 The other poem in the Hours collection is "The Killing." In it there is a remarkably graphic description of death that reaches back to Muir's childhood memories of farmyard slaughters. Muir suggests in the poem that an incarnate God is not what people want, and they will kill in their disappointment. The Incarnation, rather than being an easy myth that a longing humanity desperately creates, is really an affront and a capital crime. The poem ends with the question of an agnostic, a stranger, who wonders if, in the very act of dying, an incarnate God crossed his path. The wonder is a real enough grasp of the mystery and a crack for grace to move through. Muir did not come to a church and an orthodox form of Christian faith. But his insistence that meaning can only reach its fullness in the real world of flesh and blood, and his embrace of the world in beautiful language can certainly help us ordinary Christians to remain orthodox. Muir's acceptance of limits and his belief in their necessity so that there can be both definition and a grace that can take hold is a challenge to any spirituality that wishes to escape the human condition. This poet from the North Sea islands could, then, help us to purify and enrich the language of our prayer and our pulpits and lead us to embrace, and be embraced by the Word made flesh. Kathleen Raine If Muir i~ the poet of the Incarnation, Kathleen Raine writes of the Transfiguration. She is a pilgrim like Muir and now a stranger to orthodox Christianity though she had joined the Catholic Church for some years. She presents an interesting problem. Her experiences have led her to believe more rather than less, and so she moved away from Catholicism: Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 359 To me it seemed absurd to find one aspect of a total symbolic event less acceptable than other parts: mythical events (so I thought) are not to be verified (did they or did they not take place) but rather to be understood, as is poetry. If anything, I still continued to find the Christian myth, as comparett with the pagan richness of symbol, too meagre, and welcomed any addition.~5 She means here, of course, no denigration of the Christian faith by calling it poetry and myth. For her, the truths of existence cannot be expressed any other way. This is a position that she fought to get to and promote all her life. To get to it, she had to overcome the assaults of a narrow Christian upbringing and an even narrower philosophy at Cambridge University where she studied science. Writing of the Christian poet Vernon Watkins, who came to Cambridge at about the same time, Raine says: "Years later Vernon Watkins wrote a ballad on Abram and Sodom; but at the time acted like Lot and quickly left a town past praying for. He was not deceived by the prestige of ignorance in high places."~6 The scientific materialism prevailing in the university spilled over into a Marxist politics in one direction and into an analytically dry and thin literary criticism in the other direction. While at Cambridge, Raine began to write poetry that was in a romantic and mystic vein, twin heresies, which Cambridge literary leaders tried to tear out. She did have two great privileges in her time in the scientific Sodom. She was in the audience when Virginia Woolf came to read her manifesto for feminists, A Room of One's Own, and, because he was unpopular and unread there, she discovered T.S. Eliot on her own. Kathleen Raine's poetry is obviously based on her experience of the sacred, and in her three autobiographies, she is plain about some of these ecstatic and enlightening encounters with nature. What is reassuring to Christians is that her hints of the transcendent are not limited to impersonal experiences, but are also to be found in encounters with other people. What is constant in both is her belief that poetry and imaginative truth are intimately related in both experiences of nature and persons. Her devotion to the imagination as a voice and a revelation echoes a favorite quotation from William Blake, whose works Raine has really helped to make popular in our own century. Blake tells us: If the Spectator could enter in these Images in his imagination, approaching them on the Fiery Chariot of his Contemplative Thought . . . or could make a Friend and Companion of these Images of wonder, which always intreat him to leave mortal things (as he must know), then would he meet the Lord in the Air, then he would be happy.~6 Raine quotes Bede Griffiths, now a monk in a Christian ashram in India, to the effect that "the function of art is. to evoke the divine presence."17 She not only quotes the insight, she believes and preaches it fervently in her criticisms of much modern literature. Materialism and naturalism, she says, betray the material and the natural. She believes that the peasant had it right when he answered the question, "How can bread be God?" by replying, "What else would it be?" Of course, the difficult side to Raine is the superfluity of belief. She 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 remembers with joy the seriously considered polytheism of her old friend and Nobel prize winner, Elias Canetti. He told her, "If I believed in one God, I should be obliged to hate him." He would, she says, "rather watch supernatura supernaturans than relegate the supreme gods of all the ages from gold or stone to iron and the machine, to the ethnological section of any museum, or the files of case-histories."~8 Perhaps Cardinal Newman's dictum that the superstitious are infinitely closer to the truth than the rationalists might help us understand Raine's extremism. Extreme or not, in the poem "Word Made Flesh" is captured some of Raine's ability to convey an experience that uses Christian symbols well, even if they spill outside of Christianity. "Word" is described over and over in eight short stanzas: "Word whose breath is the world-circling atmosphere. Word traced in water of lakes. Word inscribed on stone. Grammar of five-fold rose and six-fold lily, Spiral of leaves on a bough, helix of shells. Instinctive wisdom of fish.and lion and ram. Flash of fin, beat of wing, heartbeat, beat of the dance." And finally: Statement of mystery, how shall we name A spirit clothed in world, a world made man?~9 The descriptions are all authentic application of the word or "logos," and challenge the Christian to find a more beautiful poetic expression of the Cosmic Christ of I Corinthians 15:28. Another test of authenticity is Raine's real ability to conjure the evocative power of language, not in the mechanical control of formula or the mystification of gibberish, but in the power which comes from the choice of images that resonate with the inner nature of things around us, including all and excluding nothing. One of the poems in the Liturgy of Hours comes from the 1952 collection called The Year One. The book title comes from a friend who said the historical applied only to humans and their toil because for nature "it is always the year one." The title of the poem is Northumbrian Sequence IV. Northumbria is a border county of wild weather, moors merging into seascapes and the site of Hadrian's wall built by the Roman emperor to keep out the barbaric Scots. The poem offered as possible food for prayer begins: Let in the wind Let in the rain Let in the moors tonight. The storm beats on my window-pane, Night stands at my bed-foot, Let in the fear, Let in the pain, Let in the trees that toss and groan, Let in the north tonight. The evocation continues to the heart of the matter: Let in the nameless formless power That beats upon my door. Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 361 Let in the ice, let in the snow, The banshee howling on the moor, The bracken-bush on the bleak hillside, Let in the dead tonight. The poem continues to link individual aspects of nature with even more powerful figures symbolic of various dark sides of humanness. Then there is a question and a short response: Oh how can virgin fingers weave A covering for the void, How can my fearful heart conceive Gigantic solitude? How can a house so small contain A company so great? Let in the dark, Let in the dead, Let in your love tonight. The answer must be a gentleness and pity that understands the immensity of the forces at hand and does not shrink from them: Gentle must my fingers be And pitiful my heart Since 1 must bind in human form A living power so great, A living impulse great and wild That cries about my house With all the violence of desire Desiring this my peace. Whether an interior demand of self or of others, here is a promise of a presence that cannot be articulated or tamed, but is full of promise. The poem concludes with this stanza: Let in the wound, Let in the pain, Let in your child tonight. This conclusion is at once crushing and comforting: the alien forces so powerful, so destructive, so all-inclusive are nevertheless one child to us in need of father-mother. These forces, these other presences are not us, and yet are as close to us as possible, and so we need to claim them. The spell Raine invokes brings them home as one child. As in Muir, the acceptance of all promises pain. Raine is, in fact, afraid of anything that would take away the pain: "Buddhism;" in her view, ~"offers'release from suffering;~C- hristianity the Cross, heavy with all the anguish of the world, to be lived arid known as the very heart of a Mystery. I wished to understand that mystery, not to be freed from it."~0 In the other poem to be found in the Hours, we read: Sorrow is true for everyone--a word That illiterate men may read By divining in the heart God's human name, and natural shroud. 369 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 In that last image, perhaps we have the echo of the hard-won wisdom of another woman of sorrow, Cornelia Connelly, who saw in "accepted suffering" that "one simple remembrance of his presence that unwraps all the windings of the heart and makes us true as he is true." Kathleen Raine's poetry is grounded in earthliness and suffering, but she also sees more burning bushes than we do, and she seems to be constantly taking off her shoes in awareness of the sacred and the spiritual. She is a reminder to those with other vocations about the nearness of the transcendent and how the Word evokes its presence in a terrible beauty. NOTES ~T.S. Eliot, Preface to Selected Poems by Edwin Muir, London, 1965, p. 10. 2Edwin Muir, An Autobiographov, London, 1980, pp. 30-31. 3Ibid., p. 30. 4Ibid., p. 36. ~lbid., p. 104. 61bid., p. 130. 7Ibid., p. 151. Slbid., p. 205. 9Edwin Muir, Selected Poems, p. 96. ~°An Autobiography, p. 229. ~lbid., pp. 277-278. ~21bid., p. 278. ~31bid., p. 281. ~4Selected Poems, p. 80. ~SKathleen Raine, The Land Unknown, New York: 1975, p. 183. ~6Kathleen Raine, Defending Ancient Springs, London: 1967, p. 55. tTQuoted in Kathleen Raine, The Lion's Mouth, London: 1977, p. 25. ~81bid., p. 49. ~gKathleen Raine, Collected Poems: 1935-1980, London: 198 I, p. 20. ~°The Land Unknown, p. 188. Currents in Liturgy Notes on Liturgy Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Father Diederich has been professor of liturgy at St. Louis University School of Divinity and at Weston Jesuit School of Theology. He is presently an associate pastor at St. Francis Xavier Church; 3628 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. I want to offer a service in the area of liturgy to the readers of the REVIEW by furnishing them with a survey of current literature not easily accessible to them. I intend to focus on issues which are likely to be of greatest interest, namely, those dealing with the relation of present day liturgical practice to the forming and nourishing of Christian piety and spirituality. In the present survey in addition to calling attention to the themes of the national and international liturgical meetings of 1983 about which I have information at this writing, I have focused on articles and books dealing with concerns which have arisen around what I might call our post-conciliar, popular eucharistic practice and interior spirit. Unless I have overlooked some significant articles, I found in my reading that almost all the articles on the Eucharist were something of a critique of present popular eucharistic practice and theory, sometimes imply-ing, sometimes stating explicitly that it is somewhat unbalanced. By way of introduction to the survey of the articles on the Eucharist, I have summarized current evaluations of the overall liturgical reforms and their effect. I have also included a very brief, perhaps overly simplified sketch of the eucharistic piety and practice of the last one hundred years. National and International Liturgical Meetings of 1983 December 4, 1983, will mark the twentieth anniversary of the Constitution 363 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 on the Sacred Liturgy. This has set the spirit for some of our national liturgical meetings. From April 19-22, 1983, the Sixth Annual Pastoral Musicians' National Convention took place in St. Louis, Missouri. The title given to the convention was, "Remembering Into the Future." It was intended to help ". musicians and clergy of the United States and Canada to step back and look at the past twenty years--the changes, controversies, and developments of the American musical scene" (quoted from the program). A special feature of the program was a survey of the history of American liturgical music for the last twenty years, with presentations in five different sessions by a liturgist and a musician. The Notre Dame Liturgical Conferences are well-known for their uniform high quality presentations. The Twelfth Annual Conference, June 13-16, 1983, has as its theme, "Renewal! Perspectives on Twenty Years of Liturgical Change." Boston College is sponsoring a National Liturgical Consultation, June 19-22, 1983, with participation by invitation only. "The purpose of our meeting, expressly called a "Consultation," is to appraise the present liturgical situation in the light of (I) the pioneering efforts of the "40s and '50s, (2) the directives of Vatican 11, and (3) the experience of the last twenty years, with an eye to those measures that might be adopted in the immediate future" (from the program). The names of 16 participants appear on the pages sent with the program. It promises to be an important gathering, with a significant number present who were involved in those "Pioneering efforts of the '40s and '50s." The theme of the International Congress of the Societas Liturgica, August 18-22, 1982, in Vienna, Austria, is "Liturgy and Spirituality." When the topic for the 1983 Congress was discussed in Paris in 1981, the need was expressed for greater prayerfulness in our liturgical celebrations. We need to identify the spirituality of the liturgy because, "Spirituality, the life of grace in those who seek to live anew in Christ, finds communal expression in patterns of worship, ministry and service--in a word, in liturgy . In short, worship and piety, liturgy and Christian life.are tightly interwoven" (quoted from the program for the Congress). The 1983 Synod of Bishops is not a liturgical meeting, but its topic should have important consequences for the liturgy. The topic is, "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church." The Synod Secretariat at the Vatican sent out a kind of working paper to all the bishops on the theme and invited the national bodies of bishops to reply to some questions which were enclosed. The paper deals explicitly with sacramental penance but does this within the broad context of the Church's mission of reconciliation. We can expect a good bit of writing on the topic after the Synod.~ It is clear from the themes of the national meetings that there is a strong pastoral urge to evaluate our experience of the liturgical reforms, We remember the vision given us through the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Notes on IJturgy / 365 The active participation at which it aimed is now in place in all the major sacramental rites of the Church. The changes have given us a new house of prayer. At least it has been renewed, remodeled, and rehabilitated. The ques-tion in the minds of many is whether the post-conciliar liturgical reforms are really renewing the Church. We were very optimistic that it would twenty years ago. We had hoped that the renewal of the liturgy would be the renewal program for the whole Church. Now the existence of so many different renewal programs in parishes in our country makes us doubt that it was. A possible answer, of course, is that we are not giving enough energy and effort to the liturgy. In 1980 the NCCB Committee on Parish Development reported to the U.S. bishops. The Committee stated, "The central responsibility of parish leadership is worship and the spiritual development of the people . In spite of this, the parish activity least often directly addressed in the parish development programs we have reviewed is liturgy . It appears that we do need to adopt a more direct approach to the development of liturgy and preaching."z Pope John Paul II still thinks that liturgical renewal should renew the whole life of the Church: "A very close and organic bond exists between the renewal of the liturgy and the renewal of the whole life of the Church" (Letter to All the Bishops of February 24, 1980). The Societas Liturgica Congress should be a stimulus to all liturgists to take a second look at how the promoters of the liturgical movement in the first decades of our century tried to make the celebration of the liturgy the primary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, as St. Pius X said that it was. His pastoral judgment that active participation in the liturgy is the pri-mary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, spoken near the beginning of his pontificate, November 22, 1903, has proved to be the most durable of all authoritative pastoral judgments made about the liturgy. It inspired the beginning of the liturgical movement in 1909. It seems to challenge us still. The theme chosen for the Societas Liturgica Congress bears this out. Evaluation of the Liturgical Reform There has been a significant trend in the liturgical journals during the last ten years to evaluate the ongoing experience of the liturgical reform. An Italian liturgist, Domenico Sartori, C.S.J., has done us the great service of making a brief summary of each of these evaluations.3 After summarizing them he identifies their converging points. First, he says that the writers agree that the enthusiasm and pastoral fervor with which the reforms were received in their first stages has waned and that now we find a certain weariness, routineness, and even downright regression in the communities which have implemented the reforms. Secondly, all are basically positive in their evaluation of the reforms themselves. There is convergence around what their positive elements are. These are the emphasis given in the reforms to salvation history and to a dialogical conception of the liturgy, to its ecclesial dimension, to the principle of adaptation, and to the relationship between faith and sacrament. They also ~166 / Review for

Issue 39.6 of the Review for Religious, November 1980. ; The Fot~rth Level of Prayer Developmental Stages and the Novice Limits of Adaptability of the Exercises Volume :~9 Number 6 November 1980 REVIEW ~:OR Rrl.J~aOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X). published hi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Departmenl of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room a,28:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By R~v~w FOk RFa.~¢aous. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.(X). Subscription U.S.A.: $8.1XI a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 fi~r two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write R~v~w I;Ok R~-:~,~;~ot;s: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1980 Volume 39 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manu~ripts and books for review should be sent to REw~:w ~on R~:~AG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as repr.ints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Benedictine Call to Judgment James M. Desche~e, O.S.B. Brother James has written this article especially to celebrate the 1500 anniversary of the Benedic-tines. His last article, "Journey into Christ," appeared in the issue of July, 1980. He resides at Christ-of-the-Hills Monastery; P.O. Box 32849; San Antonio, Texas 78216. Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it !s high time for us to awake out of our sleep., the night is far on its course., day draws near. (Rm 13:11,12). Despite the Lord's command to comfort the afflicted, one cannot help but be struck by the frequency with which the Lordhimself afflicts the comfort-able. Despite our very human tendency to seek peace and security, one cannot easily forget (for the Lord will not permit it) that Christ came "not to send peace, but a sword" (Mt 10:34). When, like ancient Israel, we have come to prefer the security of enslaved lives, the Lord, ever perverse in his grace, calls us out of our comfortable slavery to wander in a desert of freedom, exiled from security and peace. ¯ Wandering.in that terrible place, we long with all our hearts to be back in the dreary mud pits of Egypt, preferring the dry but dependable crusts of slavery to those fierce, unsatisfied hungers we discover within us as we sojourn in the desert of fre~edom.and ~of judgment. Whatever the pain of crises in our lives, we must never forget that the crises themselves are divine gifts. The Greeks, who had a word for everything, gave us the word crisis. But they wisely knew (as we often do not) that the word, while it involved pain, really meant a time of challenge and judgment, an opportunity to-measure and evaluate and change. For the Christian, crises are moments in which God confronts us with truths we had preferred not to see, with realities we have chosen to ignore, with decisions we have refused to make. For the Christian, a crisis is a 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 moment--albeit painful--of deepest grace. For a Christian who has become settled in a life of slavery to routine and superficial existence, a moment of crisis is a moment of salvation and an opportunity to regain touch with th~ deep roots of being, to be enlivened and energized by a return to life and grace. Just as there are moments of crisis ! of j udgment-- in each human life, so are there moments of crisis in each human generation and in each human society. This is the human condition: to stand--as an individual and as a race--at eve.ry moment in need of judgment and of conversion, in need of redemption and of new life. It is his recognition of this condition--and of Christ's lordship over all our crises--that prompts Saint Paul to call us to judgment: "Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it is high time for us to awake out of sleep." Paul's word, translated here by "high time," is the Greek kairos, with its sense of urgency, of.opportunity, of occasion. The word for Paul usually suggests a critical time (a time of judgment), a God-filled moment of salvation, an end and a beginning. Fifteen hundred years ago was born a man whose wisdom in crisis was to have an incalculable influence on the history and life of our. western world. Benedict, born around the year 480 in the small Umbrian town of Nursia in the Apennines, found himself thrust into a world in crisis. The old Roman Empire and its social fabric were f~lling into ruin around this young man. Rome itself narrowly escaped attack by Attila the Hun in~452 only to be sacked a few years later by the Vandals. Nor was the Church im-mune from crisis. In 451, churchmen struggling over the doctrinal issue of the two natures in Christ met in council at Chalcedon. The results were a victory for dogma but a defeat for Christian unity, giving rise to the two schisms of the NestOrians and the Monophysites, and planting the seeds of the great disunity between east and west that were to bloom prodigiously in the later Middle Ages. In brief, it was an age not unlike our own. Into the crisis of his age entered this man Benedict who wisely allowed the larger crises of his time to become one with his own personal moment of crisis, of judgment and of salvation. In the person of Benedict, in fact, a judgment is passed upon the age itself: "Even while still living in the world, free to enjoy all it had to offer, he saw how empty it was and turned from it without regret" (St. Gregory the Great: Dialogues, H, Preface). It is the genius of Saint Benedict, and the special mark of his,holiness, that this judgment, while never compromising itself, always avoids the taint of the puritan harshness we of later generations have come to expect in those who renounce the world. Instead, as we discover in the Prologue to his Rule, Benedict's judgment is filled with goodness and grace, with charis as the ancients knew it, sounding clear notes of kindliness; graciousness and mercy. Benedict calls his advice that of a "loving father" and finds only joy in the~call to judgment: "What can be sweeter to us, dear brothers, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 803 life" (Rule, Prologue). As the monk confronts the crisis of his own life, any hardness results from the very hardness and smallness of his own heart. But in crisis, the Lord stands ready to give the monk a neff heart and with this growth comes an ineffable joy: "For as we advance in the religious life and in faith, our hearts expand, and we run the way of God's commandments with unspeakable sweetness of love" (Rule, Prologue). In its essence, the monastic or religious life as Benedict understands it is a call to judgment, a call to be ever open to the voice of the Lord, a vocation to enter into each and every moment of crisis with the faith tha, t God is present in that moment to recreate and renew our hearts and our lives. The great enemy to this vocation is hardening the heart: "Today if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." And Benedict's remedy for this is sounded in the opening of his Rule: "Listen, my son, to your master's precepts, and incline the ear of'your heart." For Benedict this is no poetic fancy. To listen, to incline the ear of the heart, is exactly what is meant by obedience. "By the labor of obedience you may return to him from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience" (Rule, Prologue). Obedience, to the Latin ear ofSaint Benedict, always carried a message we easily miss in the English word. Obedience (from ob +audire) has to do with listening, with hearing, with attending to. It involves an openness and a sensitivity to the voice and,the, will of the Lord speaking to each person in each situation. To obey is tobe wholly open and submissive to the Lord in crisis; it is to be ever willing to enter into crisis because that is .where the Lord will be found at that moment. It is a willingness to allow the Lord tobe our judge, to have his way with us. It isa willingness to let one's,heart be broken, if that is the Lord's will. It is to. hold back no part of one's life,ands'being from the Lord of all life and being. To obey is to be wholly the Lord's creature, Benedict clearly indicates that it is in obedience that the monk finds a deep stability when he quotes from the Gospel the words: "Whoever listens to these w~ords of mine and acts upon them, I will liken him to a wise man who has built his house on rock. The floods came, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it did not fall, because it was founded on rock" (Rule, Prologue). When we are in crisis, security and stability appear to lie in avoiding the critical issue. When .the Lord calls.us out of slavery into the desert, slavery doesn't look so bad. Only the0deepest faith and the deepest trust in the Father's love can teach us to face the crisis, to enter into judgment, to listen to and obey the voice that calls us into seeming desert and chaos and.ruin. For Benedict this faith and trust are reflected in the words: "In his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life." What appears to be a way of death is really the way of life. One of the.practical ways Benedict provides to his monks for learning this deep trust in the Father's unfailing love is the office of the abbot; the abba who incarnates among the monks the Father himself. It is by his obedience to the abbot that the monk learns obedience to the Father. Indeed, it isin his obe- 804 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 dience to the abbot that the monk is obedient to the Father. Yet Benedict is careful to remind the monk that obedience-- in its radical sense of openness to crisis and the will of God expressed in concrete situations--is not limited to the relationship between a monk and his abbot. The monk is to recall that he must be obedient to all his brothers. "Not only is the boon of obedience to be shown by all to the Abbot, but the brothers are also to obey one another, knowing that by the road of obedience they are going to God" (Rule, Chapter 71). The call to crisis involves every member of the community. No one is to be denied our obedience--our listening, our sensitivity, our responsiveness. Every crisis between Christians, whether they be monks or not, is a God-filled kairos, a time of salvation. In light of the foregoing, it may be objected by some that this appears to be a diminution of the force of the vow of obedience. I have avoided all the juridical and legal aspects of the vow. Yet I have done this purposely, and for two reasons. First, the vision I find in Benedict of obedience is deeper, stronger and more demanding than. any purely juridical concept. Indeed, it is possible (perhaps even common) to find juridically conceived obedience an effective means of escaping real crisis, real judgment and encounter between the monk and the Lord. Secondly, a purely juridical view limits our considera-tion to those who are juridically bound by a vow. Yet Benedict's view of obe-dience is no less applicable to every Christian man and woman than to monks. All are called to crisis, to judgment. No Christian is exempt from this demand nor from the demand of obedience to each of his fellow Christians. Nor is any Christian exempt from the demand Benedict makes by the vow of conversatio morum, usually translated as "conversion of manners" or "reformation of life." For in its most profound sense, this vow is essentially a radical call to crisis, to judgment. It requires that at every moment we respond to the voice of the Lord calling us to newness of life. Today's response may have to be relinquished to tomorrow's response. Our hearts must be continu-ally open to each new judgme.nt and call from the Lord. We are not to settle down, not to set camp in the desert, but to be continually on the move. There is no standing still in the service of the Lord. Endless conversion, perpetual metanoia, are the marks of a truly living Christian. To guarantee that the monk will not be tempted to escape this demand of endless reformation and endless conforming to the living will of God as revealed in crisis and discovered by obedience, Benedict adds the third vow of stability. By this the monk renounces his right to escape God's demands in the present moment and circumstances by moving into other circumstances. Run-ning away is not permitted the monk and so there is nothing for him to do but to submit to the divine crisis and know it is God's will that he submit. From the day of his profession, the monk is assured by God's promise that it is here, among these particular persons,, that God will confront him in crisis. To flee from these brothers, then, is to flee from God and his call. (I do not wish here to enter into the problematical issues of canonical transfer of stability or of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 805 departure from the monastic life, though these deserve fuller treatment in light of what has been said here.) One of the last points to consider in Benedict's vision of the Christian life authentically lived is the place of humility. A close examination of his chapters on hi~mility reveals that humility has a great deal to do with truthfulness. It has to do with facing the truth about ones.elf. It has to do with seeing oneself for what one is. It is a virtue of utter and radical realism. Above all, its end is tosee oneself as God sees one. It involves looking at fearful truths intently and steadily, refusing to turn away from them, until by grace and work, all fear is transformed into love and "the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out fear" (Rule, Chapter 7). Humility is thus related to crisis; it helps us to face crisis, to endure judg-ment, to bear the truth. It also enables the monk to be of assistance to his brothers in their need to face crisis. The monk serves his brother by being perfectly truthful, by obscuring nothing of his own weakness or sin and nothing of his brother's weakness and sin. Humble monks do not support one another in self-deception. Equally importantly, the monk is alway.s ready, in humility, to take from the moment of crisis the truth of his own goodness and to affirm the same in his brothers:.Humility is the readiness to admit the truth as it is revealed at every moment. This is particularly seen in the requirement that the monk hold back nothing about himself from his spiritual father. Every selfish thought, every petty jealousy, every twinge of hatred--all must be laid without hesitation before the spiritual father. In this way, spiritual direction for the monk becomes in the truest sense a crisis and a moment of salvation. Nothing of Benedict's vision is without relevance to the life and growth of every Christian. In this fifteen-hundredth year of Saint Benedict's gift to Christianity, it must be seen that his gift is a gift to all men and women who seek the Lord. The gift of his monks is to be bearers of crisis. The monk must live in such a way that the world may never forget that Christ is Lord. The monk must live in such a way that the values of the world, insofar as they are opposed to the values of Christ, are absurd and empty. Benedict's sons and daughters must see that their lives bring a continual judgment on the lives of all men and women; that their lives are lived in a way that proclaims the power of truthfulness, of humility, of obedience. The monk must live his life in such a way that it would make no sense if there" were not a loving Father guiding and ruling all things. It is this "senselessness" that can bring the world into crisis, into facing the truth of its own empty values, its own abandonment of God, This is the Benedictine crisis, this call to judge the world not by condemn-ing or rejecting it, and certainly not by fleeing it; but by living every moment in such a way that the world must face the question of God's rule and the reality of his kingdom. Our criticism must lie, like Benedict's, not in speaking against the world (though this too has its place), but by the positive and grace-filled 806 / Review for Religious~ Volume 39, 1980/6 living of our lives in truth, in love, in brotherhood, in simplicity, in peace: In our time, perhaps more than ever, this is the task to which Benedict's monks and nuns are called, For all of us it is a time of crisis, of asking whether weare really doing what Saint Benedict interided. To answer this question, we do not 'need to examine our effectiveness. For our effectiveness lies entirely in our observance of the Rule and spirit of Saint Benedict. It is by being witnesses to God's kingdom that we shall have our effect, and this witness lies in our fidelity to the principles we have briefly looked at~here: obedience, continual reformation, stability, humility. For fifteen hundred years the presence in the world of Benedictine monks has been a sign and a challenge, a judgment and a question .--a crisis. So long as~we do not ourselves abandon the elements of our life which keep us ever open and sensitive to the workings of the Spirit, so long as we have the faith and the courage to examine ourselves for fidelity to the authentic Benedictine tradition and to step into the future with faith and trust and submissive-ness- so long as these things are present,,the Benedictine family and mission will be .needed, will be in crisis, will be genuinely alive, ~ We attest to a frightened world that the'sword of Christ.is but a prelude to the peace of Christ, that death through olSedience leads to the fullest life, and that the ruins of our lives in the crises we meet are the foundations of Resur-rection. The world's fear must be cast out by the perfection of our love.For it is love that is the greatest judgment and crisis in all of human history. Benedict, in his school of the Lord's service, shows us the way to the crisis of love. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery David J. Hassel, .S.J. Father:Hassel is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Loyol~i University in Chicago. His last arti-cle, "'Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing Oners Memories with Christ," was printed in the issue of March, 1977 and is still available in reprint form. He currently resides at 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, IL 60626. Ironically, the terms most frequently used to describe our present-day spirituality can cause us the most c6nfusion: peace, consolation and desola-tion, dryness in prayer, contemplation in action, discernment. Since these terms.point to.mySterious processes within our experience, even a book-length analysis of them would be hardly adequate. But perhaps an article can achieve some clarity if it attempts simply to locate the happenings described by these terms~ In other words, if we were to ~st~rvey the various level~ of human awareness--e~en with some crudity--we might better understand the events occurring at these levels.' But before doing tlais survey, could we first describe the problems to be touched hire? For ~xample, people can feel disturbed about the peace they experience in their decisions and their prayer. Is this peace simply the euphoria of having finally made a decision after hours or days of sweaty deliberations? Is peace in prayer mainly exuberant physical ~nd mental health? The f6~ty'- year old priest has decided that God no longer wants him to practice° his priesthood but now wishes him to marry the woman who has helped him so ' I am deeply indebted to the retreatants whose honesty and trust have furr~ished me with the data out of which this article rises, i am particularly indebted to the following persons who have attempted to save me the usual number of unhealthy exaggerations inevitable in such an article as this: Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., Robert Harvanek, S.J., Paul Clifford, S.J., John Schuett, S.J., Richard Smith, S.J., Robert Murphy, S.J, :Mary Jane Linn, C.S.J., Frank Houdek, S.J., Jules Toner, S.J., Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes. 807 808 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 much in his ministry and in his discovery of manhood. He feels peace in this decision; but is this "peade" simply the relief from heavy parish obligations and the glad anticipation of married life? Will "peace" remain when his new life begins to place renewed obligations on his shoulders? Again, a person can experience what seems to be a split in his personality. He finds himself half-miserable, half-happy. He asks himself: "How can I, at one and the same time, experience the depressing defeat of losing my job and yet, in my depths, feel confident? Are there two of me? Is this the play of con-solation and desolation within my life? Or are the pressures of life splitting my consciousness into two?" A third problem is Christ's command: "Pray always." Such a request seems psychologically impossible when a mother is raising four children between the ages of two years and twelves years or when an engineer is testing a heavily traveled city bridge for stress-breaks and wondering what will hap-pen in the business community and-at city hall if he condemns the bridge, or when the advertising executive is sizing up a prospective customer, estimating the product to be advertised, and puzzling over the morality of a slick sales-pitch which has just come to mind. But if Christ is asking the psychologically impossible, is he not providing the conditions for skepticism about his whole message? A fourth problem arises when we focus upon discernment process the three puzzling cases just mentioned. What does it mean to discern God's will in a decision, if I am unsure about peac~, consolation-desolati0n, and ongoing prayer in my life? Such discernment is often termed the concrete call of Christ to the individual Christian or to his community. But does God call only through external circumstances and other people, or does he not also" make his desires known within the experience of the individual Christian? Does such an interior experience occur in the imagination or in the mind or in the heart of the person? Or in all three at the same time? Or somewhere else? Some clarity, it is contended here, can be attained in these problems if one distinguishes four levels of awareness in the praying Christian: the superficial, physical, psychic, and mysterious. Could we, therefore, describe these levels then indicate a way of uncovering the fourth level, next show the type of partial solution which the appreciation of this fourth level offers to our prob-lems, subsequently explain how the fourth level would seem to affect the upper thre~ levels of awareness, and finally offer some cautions about the use of this fourth-level explanation? These five steps would be the strategy of this presentation. Four Levels of Awareness2 First Level: the Sensuous-Superficial. This first level is the skin-surface of experience: sensuous awareness. It is a tissue of minor irritations and pleasures. For example, I am displeased by the cold draft playing on my neck during the auditorium talk, or by the raspy.voice of the woman describing her The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 809 Florida vacation or by the first gnawings of hunger at 4:30 p.m., or by the slight rash on the back of my hand. At this same level, I experience satisfac-tion at a favorite meal of ham and sweet potatoes, at the sweet smell of spring grass just cut, at the relaxation of a hardy laugh, at the caressing of the family cat. Such minor irritations and pleasures ordinarily do not demand much at-tention and are taken for granted as the normal flow of life. Though I am often barely conscious of them, they do give life its continuous texture. Second Level: the Physical-Vital. Underneath the first level of awareness, there are other happenings which demand attention because they last longer and are more intense tfian events of the first level. Here are the pains and joys which go deeper than minor ir.ritations and pleasantries~ Anyone who has experienced the steady throb of neuralgia or the constant harassment of ulcer pains or the brain-deadening effect of insomnia will vouch for the e~xistence of this second level of awareness. Here are also pleasurable joys which exceed the simple pleasures described in the first level. There is, for example, the exuber-ance of glowing health, the feeling that "all the world is beautiful and owned by me'~-experiences which the carbonated-drink advertisements exploit. At this level the fifth symphony of Beethoven can stir a person to his depths with its elegant majesty, can make him feel noble beyond his dreams. Or this level contains the sustained sat!sfaction of slowly mastering one's tennis or golf. Here, too, the ecstasy of sexual pleasure .occurs with its deep drum-beat of powerful delight. The very power of the pains and pleasures of this second level demand our attention and make us aware of how superficial the first- . level irritations and pleasures are. Yet these second-level happenings do com-penetrate and influence the first-level, sensuous awareness. One's enjoyment of a favorite dinner is enhanced by the feel of good health or diminished by in-somnia. Third Level: the Psychological-Psychic. Although the second level of awareness contains happenings of insistent strength, still the third level of awareness is capable of riveting a person~.s attention and so possessing him or her that, for a time, he or she is seemingly unaware of second- or first-level happenings. The deep sorrows and the pure joys of this level totally permeate a person's being and consciousness. For example, the young woman, working at her first secretarial job, may be hypnotized by fear of failure so that her voice creaks, her fingers clog the typewriter keyboard, her memory fails and she feels no hunger throughout the first day of work. The paranoid person 2 In their article "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment," (The Way, Supple-ment #6, May, 1968, 27-34) Felix Letemendia and George Crofts'peak of four levels of experience: the sensorial, the vital, the psychic and the spiritual, which somewhat resemble the levels described here. They have borrowed their descriptions from Max Scheler, the philosopher, and from Kurt Schneider, the psychiatrist. Of course, there are many levels of experience, if one wishes to be very specific. But perhaps this more simplifiedlsketch of four levels better serves our present purpose. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 may be so concentrating on the "derogatory actions" of others that he walks through a glass door without knowing that he is bleeding from cuts. At this third level a woman may experience haunting doubts about her ability to love another adeq~uately and thus may begin to feel like a dull, unattractive child u~na.ble to evoke love from another. A father's mental pain at watching his daughter waste away in unrelievable cancer is matched on this level only by the suffering of a wife undergoing systematic and.continuous belittlement from her husband while the children look on bewildered. But at this third level, the depth of the pure joys~equal such sorrows. Here an6ther mother experiences the warm security of being loved by an admired husband and of being respected by admiring children: Here, too, is where the older brother ~njoys the four-touchdown afterri0on of his younger brother whom h~had 6oached on all the moves of a tigl~t end during four years. It is at this third lev61 that the novelist reads over the'laudatory reviews of his book and experiences lasting gratitude to the elderly journalism teacher who had taught him his craft. Here, too, the woman social worker sits late at her desk, savoring the bone-tiredness but deep satisfaction of a day well spent in patiently binding together fragmenting families, persons, and situations. This third level, then; encompasses the top two levels'and, in so doing, can render them almost routine. For the top two-levels, distracting as they may be to this thir~l level of awareness, are integrated into a fuller meaning at the°third level. The tired social worker does feel the pangs of hunger at the ~irs~t level, and at the second level does anticipate the pleasure of relaxing at home with her husband over a leisurely dinner, but all this is occurring in the wider and deeper context 'of fulfillment in her work at the third level of awareness. Fourth Level: the Underground River of God. ~ The fourth level is like a great underground river which, underlying the upper three levels, quietly nourishes them, sustains them in their storms and blisses, acts as the continuity (the stay-in~ power) underneath~their sometimes rapid fluctuations of irritation-pleasantry, pain-pleasure, sorrow-joy. Compared to theupper three levels, this fourth level is a quiet beneath turbulance, a constancy amid flux, a seem-in~ Passivity under great activity. Consequently, the fourth level is never explicitly conscious in itself (as are the top three levels) but only by way of cont~ast with the top levels. It is not simply experiential, but implicitly experiential,' as we note in the following two cases. Discovery of the Fourth LevEl A remarkable case-history, whose details rife changed to disguise the ~ Being ignorant of C. G. Jung, the author would not wish the combined images of underground river and of ever deeper experiential levels to be interpreted as intentionally Jungian. ' John F.~ Dedek in his Experimental Knowledge of the Indwelling Trinity: an Historica/Study of the Doctrine of St. Thomas (St. Mary of the Lake Seminary Mundelein, Illinois, 1958, pp. 125r142) calls attention to Aquinas' doctrine that.the Christian's knowledge of the Trintiy is quasi The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 811 person, illustrates how this fourth level can be discovered. A woman novice in a religious order located onthe west coast came to a midwest Jesuit University to begin her collegiate studies. Her novice mistress had taken a dislil(e to her, told her that her lack of intelligence would keep her from ever being a useful member of the congregation, succeeded in turning the other novices against her and yet had capriciously admitted her into vows. When ! met this woman, her skin was blotched with anxiety, the doctor had diagnosed stomach ulcers, she herself felt isolated and :depressed~ But she also was convinced that, despite all the sufferings, God wanted her to be a nun. As three years went by, she discovered that she was a straight "A" student, that she had special talents for political science, that she was being accepted by her fellow students and by the nuns with whom she lived, that she could pray. In other words, she found that she had a future, that deep happiness could occur in religious life. As these discoveries slowly permeated her life, the skin-blotches .disap-peared, the ulcers became healed, the sense of alienation was replaced with the warm feeling of being accepted by her religious community. The steady accomplishment felt at the top three levels of her experience now allowed her to experience by contrast a constant uneasiness or lack of peace at her deepest level, the fourth level. During the period of her novitiate experience, she could not be clearly aware of the uneasiness at the fourth level, because it was clouded by all the disturbances at the upper three levels. Only the growing brightness at the top three levels of-her experience during her collegiate days enabled her to appreciate the bl~i9k uneasiness at the deepest level of her being. After a year or so of disc_e~;nment at-this fourth level, she gradually came to acknowledge that the Lord was asking her to leave the religious community and was calling her to another way .of life. She resisted this leave-taking because she had found so much pleasure, joy, fulfillment in her religious com-munity and in her study-work. Finally she accepted God's will and, leaving the congregation, secured a job in Washington as research assistant to a member of Congress who bullied every member of his staff consistently and impartial-ly. The former novice's skin again took on the anxiety blotches, again she was consulting a doctor about stomach pains, again :she felt herself sinking into a dark and angry depression. But to her surprise, at. t.he fourth level of awareness now opened to her by her previous and present experience, she found a constant serenity never before experienced, The Lord was apparently experimentalis, i.e., "knowledge that is joined to charity" (p. 146). But he is unable to determine whether for Aquinas "this knowledge is merely discursive cognition based on signs or rather some kind of immediate or supra-discursive perception of the divine persons." Such knowledge is cer-tainly at the deepest l~vel of man's experience and, according to.the above analysis, is inferential, that is, the person becomes aware by contrasting the top three levels with the fourth level. The cen-tral texts noted in Aquinas by Fr, Dedek are in I Sent., D. 14, q. 2a., and 3; D. 15, Expositio Secundae Patris Textus. Also Sum. Theol. I, q. 43, a.5, ad 2. 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 approving her new way of life. At a great price and with subtle indirectness she had discovered the fourth level of awareness where the Lord calls to her and speaks in her discernment. Among other factors for diagnosing God's will for her, the crucial factor was the continuous uneasiness or the steady Peace at this fourth level. A second quick example illustrates these same points in a less extra-ordinary way. One day in a community corridor I met a fellow Jesuit who had just returned from home. He said to me, "You know my younger sister just died, I discovered two weeks ago that my doctoral thesis of a year's slaving has already been written by a South American, I'm wondering whether I can handle the theology courses scheduled for next year, and I haven't slept more than four hours a night during the last two weeks. But do you know? I must be crazy. Down deep I'm at peace, God loves me and will help me work out these things, I worry at one level of me; but at a deeper level I feel at peace." Could it be that this man is discovering with new clafity 'and enjoying with fuller appreciation the fourth level within his experience--precisely because of the striking contrast between the top three levels of suffering-sorrow and this fourth level of serenity-security? But what is this fourth level so poetically described as the underground river of God within us? First of all, its peace ap-pears to be a sense of God's approval, almost a companioning of the person by God, On the other hand, its uneasiness seems to express God's disapproval which produces an emptiness and loneliness. Secbndly the experience of peace or uneasiness is implicit to the top three levels; that is, it is recognizable by contrast with these levels yet is hidden under and within them. Thirdly, because of its depth and implicitness, this fourth level is difficult to describe directly. Instead, one offers experiential case-histories with the hope that the latter can point within the hearer'sexperience to his or her fourth level. For this reason, too, metaphor ("underlying river of God," "the ocean floor of life-experience" and "the background music of our activity at the top three levels") is employed rather than neat definitions composed of essential char, acteristics or criteria. Fourthly, the peace of the fourth level is marked by a passive alertness to.the top three levels of activity, an intent listening at the fourth level, a sense of not being along, a wi!lingness simply to be and to let be, an expectant openness to all future events. Yet at the same time, this peace permeates, patiently strengthens and lends finer quality to all the activities at the top three levels? What Is Happening at the Fourth Level? Peace. One event of vital importance seems to be happening at the fourth level: peace, a perduring serenity even amid storms at the top three levels. ~ Prayer experience at the fourth level bears a number of resemblances to what Karl Rahner describes as transcendental experience in his Foundations of Christian Faith (Seabury, New York, 1978), pp. 20, 21, 54, 58. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 813~ Once the four levels are distinguished, it becomes clear that the word peace can refer to at least four different states in a person's awareness. At the first level, peace would mean enjoyment of life's little pleasures without its normal irritations. Confer television's beer and cosmetic advertisements for further clarification of this bodily peace. At the second level, peace could well mean a combination of good health, unworried mind and settled emotions. The fisherman, safe from the office telephones and watching the sun rise over water dimpled by surface-fee~ding trout, may well be the symbol of tl~is peace of mind. At the third level, peace may be euphoria, the neatly balanced inner life of felt achievement, of skilled competence, of fully satisfying family life, of pleasant prospect. For examples, look at the All-American father or mother in the Geritol or insurance-annuity advertisements; or, .better, look to the disciplined people who are willing to suffer much for the good of others. This could be called peace of heart. As we have mentioned, the top three level~ of peace, when disturbed, can reveal by contrast the fourth level of peace. Evidently, when one is recollecting himself or sinking into himself to discover his center of being so that he can pray better, he is actually dropping down through the three upper levels of awareness so that he can reach the fourth level where life flows most richly, quietly, serenely. He will note how the peace of this fourth level tends to render peaceful the upper three levels and he will understand better the restlessness of those who appear to have everything but lack peace of being or person. So, h'~ will discover that fourth-level peace is not just the concern of the wise, the religiously inclined~ the fortuna~tely educated; it is the goal and hope of every living person. Indeed, this is precisely what the Taoist, the Buddh.ist, and the transcendental meditator seeks. Yet not all seem to recognize the fourth level cli~arly for what it is: the felt presence of God. And quite a few seem unwilling to pay the price of such .recognition. For the price i~ double: (1) a sometimes painful discerning of ~what factors are operating within the fourth level and (2) for the Christian, the consequent willingness to accept the call of Christ (n6w heard more clearly,) and to respond to it more generously. Let us attempt some exploration of thesetwo points. Discernment. A spate of articles and floods of conversation about discern-ment make it one of the "in" terms. As luck would have'it, the mystery of discernment is not lessened by all this attention. Nor will this article do anything more than try to show where discernment takes place~ To put it starkly, discernment occurs radically at the fourth level.6 What 6 In using the term radical discernment to point to God's approving (peace) or disapproving (uneasiness) movemeni within the fourth level, I do not intend to discount the other convergent factors which go into the full discernment process, e.g., the weighing of reasons pro and con, obe-dience to lawful authority, spiritual direction, the testing of the decision in the actual living of it, use of Scripture, the calibrating of patterns of past behavior and accomplishments (the direction 814/Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 this:statement means become clearer only after one defines the events (or states) of desolation, consolation, depression, and elation. For it would seem that these four states occur only at the upper three levels. In other words, although desolation and consolation are used to read the spirits influencing a person to good or to evil, and although they may well appear to intrude upon the fourth level, still they are quite distinct from a perons's peace or lack of peace at this lowest level. Nor do depression and elation enter the fourth level of man's awareness even though they can obscure the peace or uneasiness of this level. Consolation-Desolation, Elation-Depression. It is necessary to define these four terms experientially in order to understand and to test in one's own awareness the truth of the above statements. First of all, though desolation can cause depression and intermingle with the latter almost inextricably, still desolation is not the psych.ological state of depression. For desolation is induced by the evil spirit, not by the psychological dy~.namisms causing depres-sion such as extreme fatigue, poor self-image, seemihgly depreciatory actions by admired people, neurotic or psychotic impulses, and so on. In addition, desolation has spiritual effects, i.e., those based on faith experience. Thus the person undergoing desolation feels that God igat a cold distance or does not exist at all. This person finds himself convinced that he has no future b~cause he can do no good for. anyone, least of all for the kingdom of Godl He feels totally unloving and unlovable for God and his people. On the other hand, depression is not concerned with faith-o.bjects such as these, but is involved with natural goals and hopes which, however, can be easily entwined with faith objects, e.g., when th~ nun-teacher estimateg that her attempt to write a biology book is being thwarted (depression) by her own lack of competence or (paranoia) by the devious enyy-tactics bf the department chairman so that as a result she cannot Contribute to God's glory and his kingdom. To put all this succinctly, depression paralyzes or weakens the human as human; while desolation freezes or enerx~ates the Christian as Christian. Thus it almost goes without saying that consolation is not elation since of one's life), and so on. But I am saying that in the midst of complex decisions, peace or uneasiness at the fourth lex;el is the predominant factor to be considered. For often enough the reasons pro and con cancel each other out; authority often gives such broad directives that numerous alternatives are left open; spiritual direction can only help the directee discover for himself or herself the peace or uneasiness; testing of the decision in practice can be somewhat ambivalent; use of scriptural prayer is itself tested in terms of consolation and desolation which, in turn, are discerned in terms of peace or uneasiness; patterns of past behavior do not fully account for new demands of life, new turns on the road of life. For more on discernment, confer Karl Rahner's The Dynamic Element in the Church, (Herder and Herder, New York, 1964) Part 111: "'The Logic of Concrete Individual Knowledge in Ignatius Loyola." Thomas M. Gan. non and George W. Traub's The Desert and the City (Macmillan, Toronto, 1969) Chapter VIII: "The Logic of Christian Discernment" says much clearly in short compass. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 815 strengthening consolation ~(as distinct from Satan's eventually debilitating elation) is caused by God, not by such psychological dynamisms as the sense of worked achievement, the feel of competence in skilled activity, the reassurance of someone's deep affection, the hope of career-success, the discovery of one's deepest self. Fo~ consolation, unlike the elation which it can cause and enter, is concerned with faith-effects. That is, God consoles me with the inner faith-vision that he pervades the whole world, with the hope that I can do much for him and his people, with the certainty that I amcapable of deep devotion to the triune God and his people, Briefly, consolation is the state of feeling cl.ose to self, God, and others; just as desolation is the state of feeling isolated from God,. others, and even one s self, Consolation ~s a deep sense of the commu'nion'~of saints because of the felt presence of faith, hope, and charity; while desolation is experience of the utter loneliness of hell. Only God can cause consolatio.n; just as Satan is the sole cause of desolation, a deliberate attack on the three God-given virtues of faith, hope and charity. And both pheno~aeha occuronly at the top three levels of a person's experience- .Dryness in Prayer. Obviously, when consolation and desolation are swinging back and .forth (along with elation and depression) in one's experience, one feels no "dryness in prayer." For this dryness is the state of normalcy, the middle balancing state between the swings of consolation and desolation, of elation and desolation. Indeed, it is the state of~everyday living. Thus, dryness in prayer is not necessarily a sign of God's displeasure. For one cannot undergo the alternations of desolation-consolation or of depression-elation over.long periods of time without becoming exhausted'physically as well as spiritually. There must be periods of so-cailed~dryness if only so that the con-solations and desolations may be felt with refreshed sensitivity. It should be noted here that there is a dryness induced by ungrateful or disloyal actions, by petty selfishness, by clever screening out of spiritual insights which might disturb Complacency. This is when God declines to speak to Us with Consolation lest he seem.to approve our.state, and when Satan does not want to disturb our foolish self-satisfa'ction with desolation. But this dryness of complacency is not the normal dryhess in prayer even though both types of dryness occur within the same top three levels and can intermingle or at least succeed each other This intermingling makes it necessary to enter the fourth level of e~xperi-ence to explain~what normal dryness in prayer is. For underlying this dryness of the top three levels, can be a perduring sense of being right with God, of not being alone, and even of companioning God--despite all one's mistakes, shortcomings, and sin~fulness. This fourth-level, implicit sense of God is itself a prayer of quiet calmness which gives endurance, balance, and centering to all our spiritual living.~ This prayer of trusting expectancy would seem to be the somewhat experiential divine presence of which Aquinas speaks. Here the 816 ./ReviewforReligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 person is, in the words of Hans Urs von Balthasar, "a sustained utterance of prayer.''8 For this reason, such prayer can go on underneath one's fatigue, distractions, deadness of feeling, fitful sexual urges, tightening tensions, twitches and quirks. The quiet, hidden (not explicitly conscious) presence of God is supporting all the events at the tbp three levels of experience as one studies educational theory, works crossword puzzles, sells toothpaste, kisses children goodnight, and argues with one's spouse; This is why the :fourth level of experience can be described as a great underground river which quiets, stabilizes, nourishes, and guides the praying person. It is that which enable us literally to pray always. For, to change the figure, peace of the fourth level is like the quiet background music to all our endeavors on 'the upper levels. Again, this peace is the sense of carrying within oneself the Center of the World and of having nothing to fear (See Rm 8:35-39; I Co 3:21-23). Seeming Dereliction. For these reasons, even a partial obscuring of the fourth level can be a confusing, even an initially frightening, experience. When one'~ sense of the indwelling presence of God seems clouded in some way within the fourth level itself and not merely by desolation or depression at th~ top three levels, one experiences a certain dereliction. One.feels cut adrift, terribly alone, like a solitary canoeist drifting on a great body of night water. For the fourth level contains the center of one's universe, the hope of one's total future, the sourse of one's strength to love when not loved back. Of course, the fourth level of experience is never completely obscured; God is never far away. In fact, our very vulnerability and helplessness prob-ably make us, like the waif, even more appealing to him. Yet because this feel-ing of atheism at the fourth level is often accompanied by a convergence of outside calamities affecting the top three levels (confer the example of the Jesuit mentioned earlier), the suffering is acute. In fact, the sufferer needs the reassurance of spiritual direction as much as the storm-engulfed navigator needs clear sighting on the North Star. Still, in this seemingly total absence of consolation, to say nothing of elation, there perdures the subtle peace of God's presence never doubted even though ba~ely felt. Indeed, after the tem-porary dereliction, one feels more sensitive to peace', more alert to G.od's movements within the fourth l~vel.9 ' A wise and experie~ntial description of prayer amid dryness is Leonard Boase's Prayer of Faith (B. Herder, St. Louis, 1962), especially Chapters IV and V. (Paperback reissue: Our Sunday Visitor Press, Noll Piazza, Huntington, Indiana, 1976, a somewhat rearranged edition). ~ Hans Urs yon Balthasar, Prayer(Paulist Press, New York, 1961), translated byA. V. Littledale, p. 36. (Though not easy reading, this book gives deep understanding of prayer. One of its surpris-ing insights is that "even the dark night of the soul, the total absence of consolation, is a form of consolation" (p. 239). The paradox would seem to be that the ve~:y endurance of desolation with trust and love is itself a type of consolation. , * In his When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, 1979), Thomas H. Green, S.J., has provided an encouraging synthesis of Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Leonard Boasei and The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 817 Levels of Prayer. Consequently, as one sinks down past the first or sensuous level where vocal prayer finds expression, past the second and third levels where meditative and affective prayer predominate, and into the fourth level where prayer of.simplicity (simple being) occurs, the praying person hears more and more clearly the call of Christ within. Here one listens with a deeply passive alertness underneath the swirl of activities on the top three levels.'° Here the God-hunger is never sated; here in faith one feels heard, faced, touched by the Other. From here one responds with a surprising strength and tenderness. For, from here an all-embracing hope reaches up through the top three levels to say: "There will always be someone to serve and to love wherever I go, whomever I meet, whatever be the conditions of myself and others," From here love explodes up through the top three levels in strong generosity: "How can I give joy to my friends, coworkers, people I serve? How can I help each discover his or her deepest value and find this in each other and in Christ?" Thus, at the fourth level one seems to discover the peaceful river of God's mysterious presence, the radical source of discernment underlying consola-tion and desolation, the prayer of quiet calmness underneath the normal dryness of routinized life, the sometime feeling of dereliction when God is Closest, and the source of exuberantly hopeful generosity at the call of Christ. Influence of the Fourth Level on the Top Three Levels Despite its many levels, human experience is a unified focusing on the world, God, and self. So, it is not surprising that the peace of the fourth level percolates up through the upper three levels--with varying results. For example, in flooding up into the top three levels, this peace may make a face radiant, give added physical strength, direct strong emotions into creative activity, lend stable purpose .to one's thinking, imagining, feeling, deciding. Under these conditions even the ordinarily dour person will occasionally appear to be cheerful and rather outgoing. Because joy and lightness of heart are not infrequently a result of this pe~ace, people may rashly judge that a per-son undergoing deep sorrow at the third level is strange because of "his being unmoved, his quiet smile." On the other hand, uneasiness felt at the fourth level can move up and disturb. A person may be fe~eling euphoric at the top three levels and yet expe-the Cloud of Unknowing, within his own experience of prayer and of giving spiritual direction. ¯ Especially helpful are Chapters IV, V, and VI where he imaginatively and succinctly describes the Dark Night of the Senses and the Dark Night of the Soul. ~o M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., works with brilliant clarity at this fourth level in his two articles "Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet" (REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 35, 1976/5, pp. 651-662) and "Progress in Centering Pr~iyer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS, VOI. 38, 1979/6, pp. 833-838). These are complemented by Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., with his "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 37, 1978/1, pp. 10-15). 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 rience a vague restlessness; 'amid continuing success, the man who has everything may feel a sense of incompleteness; within a totally secure situation ("I simply can't lose") a sense of impending chaos sends up ripples of fear from the fourth level. When this happens, people will sometimes~seek to distract themselves from this basic uneasiness. They will overwork., start an unending process of job-jumping, try multiplemarria.ges, haunt psychiatrists, exhaust themselves .on attractive trifles like stamp collecting, golfing, crocheting and televiewing. St. Augustine's description of his ownfascinatio nugacitatis is a case history of one man's twenty-year struggle with constant uneasiness at the fourth level. But if peace from the fourth level is arising within a person's euphoria at the top three levels, it acts as a stabilizing ballast to the ballooning emotions and exuberant activities. For its very perdurance at the depth of one's being gives a sharp sense of the temporariness of success. Indeed, the .implicit awareness of God at the fourth level helps us to feel, as well as to understand, how relative are all events and things compared to the absolute faithfulness of the Lord. In this way, contemplation is permeating not only the top three levels of experience but entering into all the activities issuing from these levels of experience. The duality of contemplation and action is becoming more and more unified as the active person becomes more and more aware of the fourth level of experience. For the prayer of simplicity at the fourth level, in penetrating the top levels of experience, gives a new alertness to God's presence in others, a renewed hope in people's future fidelity, a deeper con-fidence in God's providence. Lastly, it should be mentioned here that the neurotic or psychotic person, if put in touch with the fourth level,, may find a new source of hope. Underneath all the disturbances at the top three levels where the psychiatrist competently works to free his client from constricting fears, is the fourth level where the spiritual director competently tries to help a person interpret God's call. Because these four levels intermingle, both the psychiatrist and the spiritual director must know something of the other's area of competence, must learn to respect each other's discoveries, and must cooperate to help their client accept and live within his limitations. In this way, the neurotic or the psychotic can slowly learn that God will be daily with him, that he can hope against hope without this being just another contradiction, that he is lovable and capable of loving, that, like Theresa of Lisieux, he can become a saint. '~ Four Dimensions of Prayer Experience. Once we have indicated, how the fourth level of awareness intermingles with and influences the other levels, we " In his Storm of Glory (Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1955, Image) John Beevers indicates that Theresa of Lisieux struggled with personality imbalance of a serious nature from her mother's death (Aug. 28, 1877) until her miraculous cure by the Blessed Virgin (May 13, 1883). See pp. 34, 41-43. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 819 are in a position to change the metaphor of "levels" to that of "dimensions" of experience. For human experience is marvelously unified and thus all the levels of awareness do permeate and mutually modify each other in forming a single human consciousness. For example, the fourth level contains the deep root of every prayer. Yet this prayer flowers differently, e.g., into prayer of the feelings and imagination at the third level, into reflective-meditative prayer at'the second level and into vocal prayer (action-prayer) at the first level. This is why these forms of prayer can be equally profound, can succeed each other quickly during a fifteen-minute period of prayer, can support and challenge each other, and can vary in intensity as does conversation between two human beings. This interchange between levels of prayer experience is also the reason why discernment, though founded radically at the fourth level in basic peace or uneasiness, nevertheless also occurs at the third level in the shapes of consola-tion, desolation, obedience, friendship; at the second level in terms of Scrip-ture, historical memories, and reasons pro and con; and even at the first level in the setting of such conditions for discernment as fasting, silence, and mortification. Obviously, then, the presence of God, so intimately and per-duringly active at the fourth level, is not limited to that level of awareness. Consequently, to change the model of explanation from "levels" to "dimensions" is not to deny the distinctions among the four levels and to homogenize their diverse influences on each other. Rather, it is to assert con-comitantly the remarkable unity of a praying person's consciousness. This is to say that all four levels, while remaining distinct, nevertheless are como penetrating and mutually influencing each other like distinct eddies in the single stream of human consciousnesL ,Some Cautions About the Fourth Level Because the above description of the location and the dynamics of the fourth level is rather crude, one must carefully assess one's own experience to see if it somewhat fits this description. One should not be unduly surprised if things are not totally clear. Then, too, one's spiritual director should be con-sulted for the necessary qualifications of the many flat statements made above. At the heart of each person is the deepest mystery and this article can hold only a fitful candle-flame to it. It is hoped that the shifting shadows accompanying such a flame will not obscure the basic contours outlined. For there are many, many layers of experience, and consequently, many, many interpretations of them to be considered. Still, no matter how many levels of experience, there is always the last and deepest level of man's being where union with God is radical.'2 ,2 Would it be outrageous to predict that growing sensitivity to the fourth level of experience will occur through steady practice of the examen of consciousness? 1120 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Further, though God may be most present and most clearly speaking at the so-called fourth level, still he is also present in all the levels above. As a result, it takes some reflective living to distinguish these levels and to calibrate their functions. So I have been warned: "Only veterans of the spiritual life will really understand what you are saying; others will be mystified or will mistakenly think that they understand--with consequent bad results." In response to this, I can only say that the Lord protects those trying to find him and that no one can escape the facing of mystery deep within himself. It seems to me that we are never "safe" with any mystery, never in control, never ade-quately understanding, always searching and groping, always trusting amid our fears. If we must take chances in order to grow, then here would be the best place of all to gamble. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Address R~view for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Journey into Journey--A Reflection Rita Bernard Walton, S.S.J. Sister Rita's last article, "Nomadic Memories," appeared in the January issue, 1978. She resides at St. Charles Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. i was tired, as though at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for I had journeyed into the human condition and had come to the doorway of under-standing that the human condition was so fragile, so delicately beautiful and so unique. I had journeyed and had come to the crossroads of another journey. It was there that I met Jesus in a new and startlingly beautiful way. For many days I had concentrated on the road itself, the dust, the rocks, the potholes, the many trials of faith and trust, the deaths along the way. It was easy to lose sight of the sunshine, even when it was directly overhead, when my mind grappled with the why of human events of suffering and death, events that seemed to crash in, like hurricane winds. Jesus had been my companion on the whole of my'journey, but for awhile I lost full sightoof him as I became enveloped in the dust-cloud of self pity and independence. It was only when I fell, or when I cried out in hurt or pain that my vision cleared enough to allQw me to see that others were just as fragile and beautiful as I, and I saw him in them. Friends tended to my wounds, making his,compassion so real. I continued on my journey, renewed in tasting the empathy that had been portioned out to me. It was when I came to what seemed like the end of my journey, at the crossroads, that my vision cleared in grace and I saw Jesus again. He was standing there right in front of me as though in a line at the bus depot. He was as dusty and worn down at the heels as I was. He had been journeying in the human condition, too. We looked deeply into each other's eyes, feeling recognition flood within as our eyes drank in the sight of the human condition. "I have come to do the will of him who sent me" (see Jn 6:35-40) we both said together, laughing and hugging 821 822./Review for Religious, ~'olume 39, 1980/6 each other as old friends do. Calvary lingered in my bones and memory. We had tasted each other's experience in dialogue often along the way before this. The look in our eyes now spoke more eloquently than words as we recalled our meetings on The Hill. I saw myself reflected in his eyes and came to understand how much he loved so many other fragile creatures like me--enough to die upon that Hill. Suddenly, I saw an endless procession of fragile creatures reflected in his eyes as once again I heard him say: "I have come to do the will of him who sent me. come follow me" (ibid.; Jn 1:43). All through my life I had worked to achieve something and here I was wrapped in the total surprise of being given unconditional love and the knowledge of its depth of meaning, of its desire for response. I felt rooted in time, yet weightless, as my mind and heart saw and felt the others who had responded to his call. I saw Jesus before me gesturing like a white-faced clown who beckons a crowd to come forward. He skipped around gleefully to show the.adventure with him that lay ahead. I felt life and death penetrate me, both at the same time. Self came to life and self died as I stepped forth, lifted by the urgency ofthat leap. I found myself transformed, a new clown among clowns, called to love the human condition. The clowns remind us, with a tear and a smile, that we share the same human weakness. Thus, it is not surprising that, in the:clown, we have a powerful image to help us under-stand the role of, the minister in contemporary society.' I had laughed and cried so often along the way, feeling the human condi-tion fired in my bones, but it was only my own condition that I had felt. I had seen others and so often moved on without feeling. In this leap away from myself I experienced the desire to share in, and feast in the human condition of my brother an~d sister clowns, the soon-to-be Clowns as well as the never-to-be clowns. Jesus had touched my fire-brighted stillness and unharnessed me. I no longer marched in my own parade~ My mind whirled in thoughtful excitement and new comprehension as I" found myself thinking of my Old Testament favorites, friends whose life stories had~ encouraged me to persevere along the way. I laughed when I thought of Abraham. In my own way I understood how he felt having been stirred by Yahweh (Gn 12:1). When Abraham was seventy-five years oid he had an experience 0f God that created a disturbance in the order of his life. Yahweh took possession of him as friend and placed within him the seed for upsetting the known order of the time. Abraham was headed toward a new foundation caused by the deliberate intervention of God into the course of human history. In response, Abraham abandoned his natural roots and "went" (Gn 12:14). Abraham was called to bring life to celebration in know-ing God's affirmation, and he allowed God to alter the course of his life ' Nouwen, Henri J. M., Clowning in Rome, New York, 1979, p. 2-3. Journey into Journey--A Reflection dramatically. His response brought biblical religion to birth. God moved across the existing culture, purified the existing religion and showed himself to be a personal, saving God. Abraham's story is a story of the trials and con-solations he experienced in his need to have faith in the God who called and stirred him. I think Abraham would have made a good clown. His faith touched me as I reflected on his journey into a new land. I, too, was journeying in a new land and realized that love had placed within me, also, the seed for upsetting my known order of time. Jesus had intervened in the course of my human history and created a disturbance in the order of my life with his call to follow him. He walked on my sand and seeded the field of me. He called me friend, beloved; and I felt his warmth. I was unbirthed, in labor to be born, wrapped in silent wonder, wrapped in warmth, encased, ensacked in womb-like nurturing, waiting to become more of who I am. I was born and aging, greying, daily dying, stepping slower, encased, ensacked in tomb-like mystery, waiting to become more ofwho I am. I was spiraling unborn to birth, spiraling birthed to dying, going both ways--to life, to death-- like the seed, dying to be alive. Quantum leap, broken shell, o rising beauty from out of clay, reaching upwards to the Son; I felt the warmth of him who enters and transforms in utter silence and mystery. His warmth pulled my roots down into the numerous sands of time. His warmth pulled my beauty up into the spiraling newness of his life. Ah, the wonder of it all. I was 894 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 nurturing the mystery of God in me, waiting for the moment to be more of who I am. I had journeyed into the human condition and found the footprints of those who had been there before me. I had cried out from my own slavery that held me deep within my selfishness. I had longed for a new freedom. My Lord, I ask you' to lure me once more and lead me out into the wilderness and speak to my heart. Give me back the vineyards of your love and make my troubled valley a gateway of hope. Show me how to respond to you as I did when I was young, as I did when I came out of the Egypt of sin and into the land of freedom in your love. When that day comes, teach me again how to call you "my husband" and no longer let me call you "distant Lord." Take the names of sin off my lips; let them never be uttered again. When that day comes make a treaty for me with all that is wild in me. Break up the battle in me and make my sleep secure. Betroth me to yourself forever, betroth me with integrity and justice, betroth me with tenderness and love. Betroth me to you with faithfulness so I may come to know you. (see Ho 2:16-22) The Lord put Moses before me for reflection. He marks a turning point in salvation history and is a promise, an expectation for the future (Dt 18:15). Moses' journey with God took him to.the edge of fulfillment. He was deprived of the joy of entering the Promised Land in this life. His glance across the Promised Land accepted ownership of it for his people and it climaxed his ministry to them. His glance thrust us forward as a people of God. Glances along my journey, glimpses of future freedoms thrust me forward, too, and helped form me along the way. My living-dying-living is an exodus event that I continue to celebrate in my covenant with God in grace. I had to learn, as did Moses and the Israelites, to live with confidence in God. God wished me, too, to be content with him. Though he provided much manna, he continued to call to a deeper surrender, to total reliance (Dt 8:2-3). Exodus became a present :reality in the celebration of Eucharist. My "daily bread experience" called me to come out of my self-will slavery into the freedom of surrendering my needs to my Provider. I began to learn to live Journey into Journey--A Reflection / ~125 without the securities and comforts that had been baals along the way. He gave to me in "miraculous measure" (see Ex 16:14-31, 17:6) to increase my faith in order to conquer temptations and survive the desert trials. I began to realize that my whole life was dependent upon his sovereign grace and prom-ise. I felt the trust formed within me asI came to a new life, became a truer person, nourished and brought into covenant. My gratitude and trust found expression in the celebration of the Eucharist and in the ways I began to live with others. His all-the-time presence which had cut into my life, became a deeper experience of presence. This "peak:' experience left its mark on me and continues to call me into wonder and celebration and into deeper exami-nation of the heart of my being. I found that I was interacting with the extra-ordinary love of God. Justice, equity and charity e.ntered a new depth within me. "The wages of a day laborer are to be paid before the day is over, before sundown of the day itself, since he is poor and looks forward to them" (Dt 24:15). This thought brought affirmation alive in me. To pay my brothers and sisters their due ,wages before the sun goes down, to affirm them for who they are, for what they do, was to help me to live in sacred truce with my God and with each one of them. Affirmation makes me lovable. God affirmed me by my creation, by my calling to be more along the journey. Affirmation enriched community liv-ing and spilled out over into liturgy where the heart of affirmation comes to a depth of appreciation around the table of the Lord. I had journeyed into the human condition and learned affirmation from God's presence to Abraham, to Moses in the desert, and with me in the desert night into which he had invited me. I realized that finally My self-will cocoon had worn thin. It had cracked. The long hours of darkness and death-like sleep were at an end. A new awaking had flashed through my being, and I felt the pulsation of new life in the deep recesses of my unknown self. I felt my weakness, fragileness, and the limited space this life permits; but I had come to know the unbounded space of time that my Creator has. I felt a flutter in my new wings, faith sustained and overcame the fear of being lifted by the gentle breeze that warmed my wings and lifted them to the sun and sky. There ffere flashes of color and shapes of hope I had never seen before. They surrounded me and formed a world of trust that enhanced the colors I, too, had been gifted with. Wings and color, 826 / Review for fleligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 warmth and sun, gentle .breeze and cracked cocoon, --a new world, a new pulsation of life, and surrender, amen, your will be done. . and I was born, and borne aloft to him on the wings of love. Silence, burst of sound. Darkness, flash of light. " Once entombed, now unwombed, made real. Made real and set free, set free in the desert castle of life, sparked by the Flame of Love, enveloped by the Cloud of the Spirit, held only by the Song of Mortalness and the time to sing it in joy. I was made real, with what was real gone. I no longer fit into the crevices of the past nor in the ways of yesterday. I couldn't speak to yesterday as once I did. I tried and laughter faded, while puzzles formed and pain stood up. Yesterday and I were no longer one, and I had to trust that wings and colors would speak for themselves, that pains would be salved by the Son for I could not fold my wings to return to the cocoon of yesterday. A new form of life was presented io me in my quantum leap; for it to remain effective I knew I had to relate to and affect the world where I lived. I had to examine what would guide and support, my internal strength during my period of adjustment~ I was. on journey with a definite purpose, to keep cove-nant with my beloved God. I knew my quantum leap was a "peak" moment to recall and bring to celebration. I knew that I had to celebrate.by living fully alive, deeply in tune and in harmony with the life that surrounded me. God had funneled me down through many generations of people and I had to live as an important part of the whole production of life. I realized that Jesus held the promise of life. He set me free from sin and death through the sorrow and joy of the cross. Faith and trust had to stay alive in me and come to external expression in the celebration of life. Jesus had drawn me close and changed the structure of my existence. I became aware of his wanting my total dependence, a dependence of love, a life of daily living- " dying-living in the internal martyrdom of the consuming fire of love. I felt like bread dough that had become leavened and I was rising to the proportion that Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 827 he had measured out for me. He asked only for love. His was the action which created laughter within me, a love that reflected itself in a deeper sense of peace and joy. I was given a new identity in living a deeper form of covenant love. I was being built and structured into a new expression of love that gentles, purifies and strengthens as it sets the soul aflame with the desire to serve and love in total unity of mind, heart, and will. Nothing seemed dif-ferent, yet everything was different, is different. There is a new beauty in the air, in the pulsation of life and in silence which is an alive silence filled with wonder. In the silence of wonder I found and. still find my attitudes under reform. My wildness is being consumed further. The cry of the poor wants to be heard; and Jesus asks for a compassionate friend to respond to the cry of pain, of loneliness, of suffering that is crying out from members of his bruised body. In my meeting with Jesus at the crossroads of my journey, in the quan-tum leap of faith, in exodus from self, Jesus had blessed me--blessed me as poor. He brought me to the beautiful awareness of the fragileness of the human condition we all share. In union with him in the blessed poverty of dependence I am learning to share his love-gift. His living word gives me courage and encouragement. I hear him say: You are poor, and I have need of your povertyr your dependence on Me, Blessed are ihe poor in spirit; the kingdom o'f heaven is theirs (Mr 5:3). Your Father, who sees all that is done in secret, will reward you (Mt 6:6). You are poor, and I have need of your poverty to fill the hungry with good things and to give dessert to the poorest poor who are filled even with the crumbs of things, and the little that the poor can share. You are poor. Come! I know the plans .I have in mind for you. Plans for you to seek me with all your heart (Jr 29:11-14), for you are poor with need to find me, with need to listen so to listen to the poor and the poorer-- with a heart's care. 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 You are poor. The Plan I have for you is poor, a foolish plan, a prophet's plan. ¯ Console my people, console them (Is 40:1). Go now to those to whom I send you. and say whatever I command you (Jr 1:7). Do not be afraid, for I am with you (Is 43:5). I have called you- pool', I will be with you--poor, passing through the sea.--poor, walking through fire~ poor, you are precious in my eyes--poor, you are honored--poor, and I love you--poor. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given reward. You are poor . Come! I lead you with reins of kindness, With leading strings of love (Ho 11:4), for you are poor with need to be fed, with need to be led-- so to, lead, for it is only the led who become those who lead. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty; for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given rewhrd You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! I shall feed you in good pasturage. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 829 You will rest in good grazing ground. I will show you where to rest (Ezk 35:14-16) Come! Come to feed the rich who fatten on the spoils of greed. Come! Come to look with me for the lost one, the stray one, the wounded one. Come! Be a true shepherd to them. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father who sees. Who sees that you are poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. I have need for your spirit to be poor, poor enough to be sustained only on manna, on quail, on water, from rock (Ex 16), poor enough to be sustained on providence, the sustenance of the poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! Show the anawim the manna for thb seventh day so they may gather and share what few omers they need (Ex 16:23). Bring forward the people tha~t is blind, yet has eyes, that is deaf and yet has ears (Is 43:~). They are poor and in need of your poverty. Your poverty-- my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Sing a new hymn! Let praise resound from the ends of the earth, Let the sea sing praise, 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Let the deserts and the cities raise voice! (Is 42:10-11). Your poverty--my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Come to the water, thirsty as you are; and though you have no money, come! I make no charge for corn, for wine, for milk. I make no charge for satisfying bread (Is 55:1-3). Come! Give your attention, listen! I know theplans I have in mindforyou (Jr 29:1 l). Come! Come to covenant (Is 55:4). you are poor. Your poverty--my song. My words do not return to me empty. They water the earth. They give growth and seed (Is 55). --seed for the poor. Your poverty--my song. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father, who sees . . and he took pity on them. (Mk 6:34). He took the five loaves and the two fish. (v. 41). They all ate., and (v. 42) They collected the scraps remaining, twelve baskets full (Mt 14:20). Come! You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. In grace and love I respond: Let what you have said be done to me (Lk 1:38). I am poor, ° and I have need of your song. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 831 It took many years to form Israel as a people:. It takes us years to be formed as his beloved. We each experience our own Exodus, Covenant, Tran-sition, and Celebration through many times of stepping but of chronolo.gical time into kyriological moments. So, come! I was tired, as though ~at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for 1 had journeyed into the human condition to find that the next stage of the journey was just beginning. I have joyfully met you along the way. Come! O God, in mercy bless us; let your face beam with joy as you look down on us. Send us around the world with the news of your saving power and your eternal plan for all people. How everyone throughout the earth will praise you! (Ps 67:1-3, adapted The Way). An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Developmental Stages and the Contemporary Male Novice Jonathan Foster, O.F.M. Father Jonathan is Director of Continuing Education for the Chicago-St. Louis Province of Franciscans. He holds a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago in Adult Education and Develop-ment. His present address is Office of Continuing Education; 3400 St. Paschal Drive; Oak Brook, IL 60521. Writing an article such as this is a precarious business. The study of adult development stages is of fairly recent origin in the empirical sciences. There is some very interesting theory (Erikson, 1963, 1964; Kohlberg, 1968; Levinson, 1978; Fowler, 1978; Vaiilant, 1977), but not an abundance of evidence. Moreover, what theory and evidence exist leave us with no clearcut delimita-tion of such stages. One prominent developmentalist (Neugarten) has in fact stated that all we know is that there is some development in adults. Its precise staging is by no means widely accepted. An article such as this is also precarious because of the subject of interest: novices. They comprise no one adult developmental stage. In recent years in my own community, the age range has run from twenty-two to fifty. To treat them all as "young adults" is obviously to allow some of them to fall through the cracks, or, if you will, off the end. Nevertheless, I will attempt to make some sense out of the evidence we have to date, and apply this to a reasonable estimate of what a novice is. I take the age of a typical novice from our Vocation Center's projection of the next few classes currently in pre-novitiate programs for our province. According to this projection, the age of most novices in the immediate future will fall between twenty-two and twenty-eight. There will certainly be a few older than this. But it is not likely, in view. of current policies, that there will be any younger. The observations I will make here will concern the generality of 832 Developmental Stages / 883 young American adults, from whose company we can assume most novices come. According to Levinson (1978), the essential task of the young adult is to separate himself .from emotional dependence on his family and the social structure from which he comes-- not thesame, it should be noted, as destroy-ing his roots. He does this by exploring different possibilities for making his life and creating a stable life structure in which to live out whatever this separation has led him to. Both elements, exploration and stabilization, need equal attention during this period. In one way or another, ehch of the stages we shall look at attempt to deal with this dynamic. The Developmental Task: Identity and Dream Formation I am treating these two stages as one because of their intimate connection with each other. By identity I mean the ability of the individual to see himself as essentially the same person as he passes through the many, even profound, changes of his life. The first great change in a person's life is the traumatic passage from adolescence to adulthood with all the separation and newness it brings with it. The achievement of identity is not so much the search for something new and frustratingly elusive as it is the maintenance and building of a "unique and reasonably coherent whole".(Erikson, 1968), something that holds together and remains ultimately the same despite the shock of change, and the addition of the new. In other words, "identity" is not exclu-sively drawn from within. It is built on a given reality growing out of the experience of community, persons, the historical times, and especially at this age, out of ideology. Ideology is a vision according to which the individual wants to live. Identity in this ideological sense moves into dream formation, a concep-tion of life that the individual picks oi~t as most suitable to his personality. Identity is thus not a mere summation of all experiences a young man has. It is the process by which he tries to integrate what he already knows about himself with elements of experience that seem to promise him a vision and purpose by which he can live and give meaning to life. In this process he must perceive himself as at core unchanged. The question he must answer at this stage of life is simply, "Do I fit with this dream?" Several elements go into the achieving of this identity. One of the principal catalysts is the attraction of a strong ideological system, such as, for example, the Franciscan way of life. This is the "dream." It may stem from a purely ideological contact with St. Francis. But it does not become a real and viable dream until it is experienced in a vital institutional reality, and in attractive personalities living it out. In accepting and trying out the "lived dream," it is especially important that there be at least one special person who embodies that dream, and inter-prets it to the new aspirant in a way that has personal significance to him. This 834 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 is the mentor so often spoken of today. He is not typically a hcro at a distance--though this is possible--but, in our context, a committed religious who shares the younger religious' visionandwho pays special attention to the latter's apprenticeship in that vision. The first reality is probab!y of more significance to older communities with well-known and charismatic founders. We find it particularly so in the Franciscan order, whose founder is one of the most popular and attractive men in history. The problem is this, that today, to a far greater extent than in earlier years, young men are attracted to the Franciscan order precisely by the dream, with relatively less experience of those who profess to embody it. Up to fifteen years ago, most aspirants came to the order out 6f heavily Franciscan contexts, attracted, not by the historical vision of St. Francis--of which they had but a dim view--but by the actual way in which Franciscan priests and brothers lived their own vision of religious life, or by a traditional piety which was, upon close examination, barely distinguishable from that of any other religious order. The dream that attracts candidates today, however, is more often.in touch with the historical view. Candidates thus are more likely to be confused and puzzled by their encounter with many friars who entered the order out of con-tact with Franciscans, not St. Francis, and who may seem, therefore, to the candidate to have rationalized the historical "dream" away. It creates in him, moreover, great insecurities that perhaps his vision is not a real one, or that "those who count" may not view his "dream" as an acceptable version of the Franciscan vision. It is for this reason, once more, that the mentor is extremely important to the young religious, to reassure him--perhaps even to play the advocate before "those who count." In this connection, it seems desirable that the place where novices live should not feature a uniform view of the particular order's "dream." Both staff and community should display some diversity in interpretation of that "dream." Thus both mentor and community can at once challenge and support the candidate's perception of the "dream." Another identity-related problem with this age-group is the prolongation of the moratorium (Erikson, 1963). This is a period of life, usually beginning with adolescence and lasting an indeterminate period (often well into the mid-twenties), in which an individual, committed to nothing, explores and plays with a variety of possibilities or dreams. This is an entirely legitimate develop-ment, perhaps one that many of us never fully undertook. Ideally, it ought to be completed by the time of entry into novitiate, but in today's society, which increasingly delays adulthood, it is not at all unlikely that a candidate will try novitiate with the same degree of uncommittedness as he might hax~e tried being a cowboy in the nineteenth century. Novitiate, it seems, implies some degree of commitment to the dream, and"should not be 'viewed as a moratorium experience. A third problem is that young adults at the "identity-dream formation" Developmental Stages / 835 stage are given to caricaturization. In an attempt to make the dream fit, and fit so securely as to cover all aspects of the aspirant's reality, he tends to see it in terms of black and white. Consequently, he tends to portray his chosen dream somewhat unrealistically, and even to be intolerant of other dreams. The attraction of young people to an oversimplified view of life and reality is well known, and applies just as much to novices in religious orders. Kohibert (1968) and Fowler (1978) have both pointed out that people at this stage of development make moral and religious judgments primarily in terms of their commitment to a particular group of people or an institution which they see as embodying their dream. This is distinct from making judgments in terms of abstract principles applicable to one~'.s own group as well as others. Such a development is perhaps natural and necessary. However, the activity of an overzealous or overly charismatic director--or indeed mentor--can play directly into this .,caricaturizing tendency and allow it to sharpen into a dangerously unrealistic view of life. A further problem is that powerful religious conversions sometimes occur at this stage. Individuals allow themselves to be so overwhelmed by a vision or dream .that they cease to see continuity between what they were before the conversion and what they see themselves to have become because of the conversion. Indeed often they do not want to see the continuity. Such conver-sions, apart from rare cases, are obviously disruptive to the developmental process of identity formation. Of some interest to directors of a novitiate, which, ambng other things, is a time of an intense and unremitting daily round of organized prayer, is the attitude of young adults towards organized religiosity. It is in the latter phases of identity formation that participation in formal religious practice is typically at its very lowest ebb. This usually reflects the individual's attempt to separate himself from dependence on his family and culture, including the religious structure bound up with that. The fact is that it is precisely in the novitiate year that aspiring religious are subjected to the most intense exposure to formal religiosity they will perhaps ever know, and this may rub a bit excessively against the developmental grain. Some caution must be urged, too, concerning the possibilities of contem-plation at this stage. True religious contemplation--by means of which the individual, while retaining his identity, is drawn out of himself into union with God--is objectively oriented. It assumes some stable sense of identity. It is for this reason that religious contemplation is not normally found in young adults and most often flourishes in the more contented self-acceptance of mature adulthood. What passes for contemplation among the young is more typically a preoccupation with the achieving of identity than the handing over of this identity into union with God. The young adult is by developmental necessity more self-centered, indeed self-absorbed, than other-centered. Novitiate directors need to keep this in mind when inculcating habits of prayer and contemplation. To speak of the novitiate as a "year of contemplation" 8:36 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 can be misleading, and even, in terms of what both novices and their directors expect to happen, damaging. The Developmental Task: Intimacy Intimacy is basically the task of learning to establish close relationships with others, to respect human beings as ends, not mere means, of learning to communicate. It is a form of love, and it is the love that characterizes persons at this age. Erikson (1964) distinguishes this love of Relationship from the love of Care that is characteristic of the more mature adult. The task of intimacy may be described as one of the major tests of a person's identity. If this identity is'securely in hand, then one is capable of risking it in relationship, and indeed must do so. If the identity is not secure, intimacy is more difficult to achieve and is often avoided or at least sim~ated. Most young people, however, make serious forays into intimate or quasi-intimate relationships at this stage. Intimacy is indeed the task that marriage at this age seeks to accomplish. The relationship is not, however, exclusively heterosexual, although this is the typical form it takes. Erikson (1964), in a phrase reminiscent of St. Francis of Assisi who urged his brothers to exercise a mother's love for their confreres, wrote that intimacy also happens when "young adults become sons of each other." The failure to achieve intimacy results to some degree or other in isolation, the inability to relate deeply. A number of structures will be important in a novitiate to enable the process of intimacy achievement to go forward. Obviously, there must be opportunities for the development of friendships, including friendships with women. Some friendship will be available within the community, but since friendship-making is highly selective, this may not always be the case. With the smaller novitiate classes prevalent today, making intimate friendships has become more difficult. Larger classes make such relationships more possible. Smaller numbers limit the possibility. Given these smaller numbers, the importance of locating the novitiate in a community which includes a substan: tial number of other religious seems important. For this reason, close friend-ships outside the novitiate community cannot be excluded either. Hence the advisability of allowing, indeed encouraging, other forms of maintaining friendship contact: visits, correspondence, telephones. The mentor is very important to this task. The mentor-relationship is an intimate one when it is exercised in spiritual direction, confession, or simple friendship. There is indeed a case to be made (Levinson, 1978) for the "Special Woman" as mentor to the young male adult. In this relationship, intimacy expands easily into a heterosexuality which is less threatening to the celibacy aspect of the dream. A lived brotherhood is important for the young adult. Not only does it increase the likelihood of selective friendship, but failing this, still allows for a considerable amount of sharing at a deeper level. In this respect, the current emphasis in most orders on brotherhood or community is an especially attrac- Developmental Stages / 837 tive aspect of/he dream for young men. The achievement of intimacy in an all-male structure presents special problems. Women, in such situations, tend to get caricaturized. They may be over-romanticized as indispensable partners in the life-journey. They may be feared as a threat to the dream. Or they may be ridiculed as a result of a cultural residue of male chauvinism, a position unfortunately supported by a large segment of the male ecclesiastical establishment. Hence, it is important that novices have an on-going encounter with women their own age, such as for example the inter-novitiate program in the Chicago area where novices from several different communities of men and women meet weekly for study, prayer and informal interaction. However, it is also interesting to note that, even in the larger world, many men get so caught up in their dream, or their career, that women do not romantically interest them at this stage. This may very well describe the situa-tion of the modern novice, as we shall note when we discuss career consolida-tion below. What frequently happens, however, is that once they reach the thirties, some of that pressure lifts, and the quest for intimacy with women starts anew, including a deep interest in marriage. Homosexuality is a form of intimacy, and is, of course, always a problem in the all-male society. This is more true today when there has been some social legitimation of the homosexual friendship. There is simply no way of avoiding this possibility, and directors should understand that an occasional homosexual encounter neither automatically implies homosexuality nor is necessarily grounds for expulsion. Finally, the concern for intimacy explains in part the young religious' preference for one-to-one ministries over the ministries involving administra-tion, leadership and social change. It is the need for people in his life. Developmental Stage: Career Consolidation Vaillant (1977) points out that an intermediary stage occurs between Erikson's stages of Intimacy and Generativity, one that Erikson did not fully consider. This is the stage at which the young adult becomes preoccupied with establishing work skills and climbing the career ladder. It begins in the twen-ties, and lasts usually throughout most of the thirties. What is important about this period is the mastery of a craft, the seeking of approval for one's work and achievements, the thrust of ambition, the excitement of developing a career, the sheer pleasure of work and success. It is a time when the vividness of the dream recedes, and the individual focuses rather on the work associated with the dream. The role of the mentor also declines. Thus, what guides the young adult at this stage is neither parent, mentor, nor even dream. It is the satisfaction of the work itself. What happens at this stage may very well be the triumph of the larger society's "Dream" in the individual, the American Dream of Success and Achievement. Certain it is that American society strongly rewards work, achievement and success. It is not surprising that the 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 career-consolidation stage is accompanied to a large extent by the decline of the intense inner life that characterized the stages of Dream Formation and Intimacy. Given the increasing number of older candidates entering religious life, especially those already committed to or having just finished intensive preparation for professional careers, it is important that directors be aware of this dynamism. To the extent that this development stage is at work, the novice must have opportunities to exercise his competence, not, perhaps, in his chosen career, but at least in some area of novitiate life. This means that he shall have to be given some area of responsibility that is more than sweeping a corridor~ He must, moreover, be constantly able to exercise at least the basic tools of all work-competence: the hands, the mind, the imagination," and judgment-making that has consequences. The larger question may be to what extent this professional training and competence already acquired may have on the novitiate experience. Such training and competence may have achieved apart from the dream formation which the novitiate agenda is all about. It may even be somewhat separate from-- even in conflict with -- that dream. Yet it usual-ly has brought continued rewards and satisfaction so necessary at this stage of life. It is not clear to me how a novitiate experience handles such a conflict. But for a novitiate director to simply ignore this previous experience does not seem to me to constitute a reasonable response. These, then, are the stages of development likely to be encountered in a given novitiate class. Because of their fluidity and because of the individuality with which each person passes through them, they are perhaps useful more as mind-sets by the director than as the basis for actual guidelines. Three recom-mendations emerge strongly from their consideration, however. The first is the necessity to view a novitiate as a highly individualized experience. Not a solitary experience, but one which a group of young men move through together, each following to whatever extent necessary his own individual track. Obviously, Group Spiritual Direction is no substitute for individual attention. Which leads to the second recommendation, the need for mentors. Whether this role is carried out by the director, his associate, a chosen spiritual director, or another member of the religious community, its impor-tance is critical. Finally, given the social context of Identity/Dream Forma-tion and Intimacy, it seems important that the novitiate be not a sequestered experience. A director and his novices should not go off to the woods by themselves for a year. They should live in an extensive friar community and they should be in regular, on-going contact with the community-dream-- manifested certainly in its documents, but even more so by regular in-depth contact with the people who incarnate that dream in their lives. Yes Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen is a staff member of the newly erected Dutch Center of Spirituality Om Vuur; Twelloseweg 5; 7419 BJ Deventer, The Netherlands. This article is a chapter from his forthcoming book, Certain as the Dawn, scheduled for publication by Dimension Books (Denville, N J) in the fall of 1980. doration always implies surrender, a fiat. In fact adoration is a surrender of our whole being, a dedication of all our affection, a gift of every minute of our time. Adoration has to be lived; it commands a life-style. Since adoration is the ultimate, it includes everythir~g. Adoration is a Yes, expressed with or without words during prayer, but then lived every single moment of the day and of the night. Being the ultimate, adoration also provides perspective to all that precedes; the total Yes injects meaning into everything that is encom-passed by it. Three concise lines which Dag HammarskjOld wrote in his diary in March 1956, some five years before his tragic death, offer a framework for a meditafibn on Yes. You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning. You repeat your Yes--and all things acquire a meaning. When everything has a meaning, how can you live anything but a Yes!~ You Dare Your Yesmand Experience a Meaning "Yes" is a daring word: it implies arisk and requires courage. It means a leaving behind in order to move ahead. We leave behind what is certain and we ventureinto the unknown. We give up what has become dear and proceed as a ' Dag HammarskjOld, Markings, transl, by Leif SjOberg and W. H. Auden (London, Faber & Faber), p. 110. 839 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 free person without looking back. "None of you can be my disciple if he does not renounce all his possessions (Lk 14:33). "Whoever puts his hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God" (Lk 9:62). It can be very hard to really say good-bye. A famous French proverb claims it is mourir un peu, a little, dying. It means farewell to people and to things to which we are far more attached than we realized. We give to the people with whom we live and we take from them. Somehow we are more aware of the sacrificing during the actual process, while the receiving becomes more manifest after it has stopped. It is like the various organs of the body which we easily take for granted as long as they function well, whereas we learn to appre.ciate them most when ill. It is only in the concrete leaving that we find out how dependent we are on the things we have collected during the years, how we have become entangled in the small world of our hands, our minds, our hearts. We have developed our own ways of enjoying and asserting ourselves in that small world, even to the point of imposing it on others. We have learned to manage in it. To leave means to cut the ego. That is one reason why we shrink from giving up the past. Being human is essentially living in an exodus-situation. Leaving is part of life. We have to ready ourselves in many .minor rehearsals for the final farewell which is the only absolute certainty of everybody's life. Apart from God, everything in life is transitory: everything biological, social, political, intellectual, etc. The refusal to accept this passing quality of life causes stunted growth, induration, and in extreme cases, neurosis. The early Chris-tians sometimes called their faith "The Way." God is always greater; he keeps us continually on the move. "Here we have no lasting city; we are seeking one which is to come" (Heb 13:14). Jesus stressed that the kingdom of God re-quires the Gift of self: "Whoever would save his life will lose it, whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). The giving up of oneself in this life is not done once and for all; it is an ever-growing gift of self and demands an increasing willingness to sacrifice. To leave people and things behind does not mark the end; rather it opens up a new beginning in a wider context. The severing of the umbilical cord introduces the baby into the family; the leaving of the family's security challenges the adolescent to venture into a big world; the renouncing which Jesus demands leads us into the kingdom of God. The pruning is for increas-ing the yield. The Father is glorified in our bearing much fruit. It is not the stripped, stifled, petty life that honors him, but the life which surges to the full. Jesus leads the way. This man-for-others appeals. The reflection of his intimacy with his Father intrigues and invites us. He calls us to follow. We do not know where his way will lead us, but we do have an intuition that it will transform us for the better. If our hearts are cluttered with houses or land, relatives or friends, job or hobby, he is going to set us free so that we can go forward. All that remains will be love--serving God and serving people. The Yes is particularly scary because it is so personal. It affects the deepest 841 in me, where I am most myself. There exists no mold for it. It is my yes, such as no one before me has ever said and in which no one can really accompany me. The Yes condenses my whole self. I have 'to descend into the depths of my self in order to perform the act of my life. The person who wants always to be upheld by others could never go that far. Yet in saying Yes, there is a solidarity with others which gives strength and inspiration. The community of all those who spoke their Yes gives us support. Outstanding is the help of Mary who is an immaculate Yes, a simple fiat. Above all, her Son in his absolutely unambiguous and unrestricted Yes, enables us to dare our Yes: "Jesus Christ. was not alternately 'yes' and 'no'; he was never anything but 'yes.' Whatever promises God had made have been fulfilled in him; therefore it is through him that we address our Amen to God." (2 Co 1:19-20). Nevertheless it remains an adventure to follow Jesus in his Yes. It entails giving up tangible security and the felt affirmation by others. It is an act of faith. "Yes" is a word of freedom; to be authentic it can never be forced. Ultimately it can be said only to a person, not to a thing or an institution. The German author Giinther Grass once wrote an enigmatic little "poem" to which he gave the title "Yes." This house has two exits; I use the third one. Between Anne and Anne, I choose for Anne. The interpretation is said2 to be that both exits of the house lead into meaning-lessness which G~nther Grass rejects. The third exit is not something but someone: Anne. Between Anne the saint and Anne the sinner, between Anne the beautiful and Anne the unattractive, the poet chooses the actual Anne, and through her finds life meaningful. His yes to the real Anne saves him from the existentialist void. Grass' poetic riddle rhymes well with HammarskjOld's clear entry: "You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning." Meaning implies more than an intellectual conviction; it comprehends the whole of life. True meaning is beyond success or failure. The Way leads to the wisdom of the cross; this is a disaster which is a triumph, and a victory which is a catastrophe. The paschal mystery unites the horror of the crucifixion and the glory of the resurrection. The folly of the cross reveals the ultimate mean-ing. The following of Jesus leads beyond the antithesis of humiliation and elevation. The Way leads into a new realm of life where old values acquire a new perspective and where what used to be considered meaningless shows an unexpected significance. Therefore it provides a tremendous strength for making sacrifices. As long as we count the cost, seek our own comfort, fight for our position or strive for recognition we have not yet said a whole-hearted gsef Sudbrack, S.J., in Geist und Leben 48, October 1974, pp. 346-347. 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Yes nor experienced the true meaning of life. You Repeat~Your Yes--and All Things Acquire a Meaning It is not enough to say Yes just once, It has to,be repeated over and over again. We have to set out on a way and we have to carry on step by step. Our Yes is a growing reality; the further we go, the deeper and richer its content. The resistance, of course, is always there. We do not want to reiterate it in ever new circumstances. We find ourselves, like Jacob, resisting the angel of Yahweh (Gn 32:23~33). During the night Jacob crosses the ford of the Jabbok and untildaybreak he wrestles with aman whom he does not know is a divine messenger. At the end of his fight he asks for the stranger's blessing. He then receives a new name, Israel, meaning "you contehded with divine beings." In his struggle against God he becomes injured and keeps on limping. It is a strange, but .typical story. How difficult to recognize God in his numerous disguises. How easy to consider him a threat to be fought. How often is our encounter with God, before it becomes a bow to receive his blessing, first a long, dark ~resistance. How much harm do we inflict on ourselves in that opposition. Every refusal to repeat our Yes does harm to our personality; it stifles our growth, eats out our joy and reduces the meaningfulness of our life. What follows are self-concern, grudges, resentment, compensations, addic-tions of all kinds, polarization which we stretch too far, fencing in against other people. The half-hearted Yes creates impaired persons, very much unlike the kind God wants us to be. "I know your deeds; I know you are neither hot nor cold. How I wish you were one or the other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rv 3:15-16). The Yes has to be repeated so often that it includes everything in the past, in the present and in the future. As long as there is something in my past which I reject, there is still a screen in me that pr~events my being transparent. That which I repress or resent splits my inner self, or becomes a heavy chain I drag along behind me. It may take time to really accept the suffering or the failure that came to me, maybe long ago, but it is vital that I do accept it. The Yes can create a meaning where first there was none. The repeated Yes will become more mature, more profound, more silent, and eventually it will extract light from the dark, radiance from, the cross. "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who have been called according to his decree" (Rm 8:28). To say Yes is to accept the present. It means to acknowledge gratefully the talents and the possibilities I have without thinking that all of them have to be realized. It means to accept my limitations in health, education, character, etc., while at thesame time trying to overcome them. It means to transform gently weaknesses into strength, innate temptations into grace, given potential into a ripe harvest. It means to say Yes to the lives of others and to give them the room and the sympathy they need. It means to accept the situation I am in, Yes / 843 and myself in that situation. To repeat my Yes will lead to self-acceptance which in turn, will make everything else meaningful. It is obvious of course, that the Yes is not identical with a limp settling for anything, neglecting all attempts to improve things. The opposite is true: it is only by accepting them that things can be improved. No effort born of anger, impatience or resentment will bear fruit. An example may illustrate this point. Suppose the parents of a stuttering boy have great difficulty in accepting /he child's handicap. Whenever he stammers, they harshly make him repeat his words. One evening the parents discuss the situation. They both had noticed that the stuttering was becoming worse and they begin to see that the pressure they put on the boy may have something to do with it. So they decid~ to make no more remarks when the child stammers. Both father and mother manage to live up to their resolution, and yet they find that the speech handi-cap is becoming still worse. After some time, they talk things over once more and discover that, in their first discussion, they had changed only their policy, their external approach, but not their interior attitude. They had stopped scolding all right, but they still resented the stuttering. The boy was no longer being reprimanded, but he still felt the pressure of disappointing his parents. At this :pOint the parents break through to a new mentality and accept the boy as he is, with his stuttering. The paradox is that from now onward, the child can slowly improve in his speech because he no longer has to. This is a real paradox: as long as the parents resentfully demanded it, progress was blocked; after thedefect is accepted in peace, it begins to improve. In some cases we are simultaneously both the parents and the boy! The Yes to the future is a stark act of faith since we do not know what ~ve are saying Yes to. It is only the confidence in a person that enables us to say Yes for better or for worse. In the wedding it is the trust in the spouse, together ¯ with our faith in God that allows us to engage in a common future and to accept whatever it has in store. In ordination and in religious profession it is--over and above the reliance on the community--the belief in the living God that constitutes the basis for commitment. Without a strong spirit of faith, it would be utter foolishness to promise solemnly and forever poverty, chastity, and obedience. In fact the beauty and the testimony of the vows con-sists precisely in their being so explicitly an act of faith. When Everything Has a Meaning, How Can You Live Anything But a Yes! The faithful repetition of our Yes eventually leads us to the watershed where life starts flowing in another direction. The uphill climb pays off in a panoramic perspective and gracious ease to live the Yes continuously. The pilgrim has become single-hearted and now sees God everywhere. The purity of his eye penetrates to the deepest Ground of everything and discerns all as grace-filled and meaningful. This in turn reinforces the Yes. Life has become whole and holy. Meaninglessness implies that the various life-experiences are disconnected 844 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 and therefore disconcerting. It just does not make sense! They present a void which creates feelings of despair. They paralyze all efforts to do something about it because they suggest that it is all useless anyway. Suicide becomes an alluring temptation. In the realm beyond the watershed the isolated pieces fall into place and show a pattern never perceived before. Perhaps it is more accu-rate to say that the change takes place not so much in the objective reality as in our view of it. We have finally reached the vantage point where we have the right perspective. The total Yes has rendered all reality transparent and coherent. We feel like Jacob awakening from his dream at Bethel: "Truly, the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it!" (Gn 28:16). A deep joy a~ccompanies this experience. It is like coming home after a long, hopeless meander. That home is really the presence of God. We now recognize him everywhere, even where previously we had discerned nothing whatsoever of him. He is the bond that connects all. It is the old concept of divine providence which we rediscover in shining newness. Meaningfulness then, is not some-thing, but someone. God has nothing since he is the creator of all. He does not produce something which he then delivers. He remains the living center of all that is; without him, it could not be. In everything he gives, he gives himself as well; therefore he can be found in everything. It is ohly in recognizing God this way that reality acquires its full meaning, is allowed to be all that it is meant to be. The basic trust which is so vital for human well-being now extends to all of reality. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God." (Rm 8:39). The surrender can now be complete. How can we live anything but a Yes? We can join in with Charles de Foucauld in his prayer of abandonment: Father. I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will. Whatever you may do, 1 thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures-- I wish no more than this, 0 Lord. Into your hands l commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for ! love you Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, and with boundless confidence, for you are my father. Others, to art.iculate their gift of self, may prefer the older prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola at the end of his Spiritual Exercises: Take, Lord, all my liberty. Receive my memory, my understanding, my whole will, Yes / 845 all that I have and possess. You have given all to me; I return it all to you. Do with me as you will; Give me only your love and your grace. with these I am rich enough and ! desire nothing more. In Luke's Gospel we find an expression of total abandonment that is still much older and took only one word:fiat. With it Mary chooses obedience as the pattern of her life, "Let it be done to me as you say" (Lk 1:38); through it she surrenders her body to God, and all her possessions are also included in this one act of abandonment. Said in a moment, it is spelled out in a lifetime. As a sheaf is bound in the middle and fans out towards the ends, so the life of Mary, in all its bounty, is held together by this little word. All her years before this moment flow into it and all the rest of her life flows from it. God's grace enables her to say it, and in saying it, she enables God's grace to work in her. It directs her whole beirig towards God and away from selfishness and self-concern. It makes her completely transparent so that through her the Light in its fullness can come into the world. It creates the room God needs to become man. Jesus is the embodiment of. Mary's Yes, the fruit of her fiat; greater fruitfulness is inconceivable. Her fiat in no way stymies her personality; in fact, it brings her utter fulfillment and is the prototype of all Christian fruit-fulness. We come to you, Mother of our Lord and Mother of us all, to thank you for your Yes that gave us the incarnation of God's own Yes and brought life to its fullness. We ask you, teach us to follow you in saying our Yes with faith and courage. You know the cost of living the Yes; protect ours in integrity and joy. Ask your divine Son for the grace always to repeat our Yes with an ever-growing surrender and to experience how this increases the meaningfulness of our life. Under your inspiration may we help to build the kingdom of God today and every day, for ever and ever. Amen. The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries Stephen Happel Father Happel is Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. This article is based on an earlier paper originally published in Learning to Pray Alone (Abbey Press), pp. 34-43. Private prayer is never accomplished without a social, communal context. Individual prayer has not only social conditions and social ramifications, but also social ingredients which quaiify and constitute its very nature. Our private languages are learned in the public forum. We speak to ourselves because others have spoken to us and because we have learned to speak to them. So too with God. Both the personal vocabulary and private grammar of our speech with God are primarily social-ecclesial in their initial stages (whether learned from parents or teachers), in their performance from day to day, and in their various results (ministering to others, praying with others, allowing the kingdom to be formed). If one combines this sense of the social dimension, indeed social constitu-tion, of prayer with its fundamental component, dialogue with the Other, then that Other will almost necessarily have the characteristics of the "social other" experienced at any given point in human development. So, for exam-ple, in one's earlier years, speaking with God is accomplished in the horizon of the discipline and "otherness" of one's parents. Religious psychologists maintain that it is possible atany given point in an individual's life to indicate the creative synthesis of parental figures which qualifies the notion of God.' Thus, I will maintain in the following that "the other" in the seminary context ' See A. Vergote, Psychologie religieuse (Brussels: Dessart, 1966), esp. pp. 294-299, 307. The Social Context of Personal Prayer / 847 will radically qualify the ability or inability of individuals to pray alone. How is "the other" experienced in the seminary environment? Needless to say, the reflections offered here should not be taken so much as judgment, but as description. It may be true that the achievement of human freedom in relation to God is the goal of seminary education programs; but what sort of inter-active freedom does seminary structure actt~ally provide? The typological description of institutional structure which follows is not so much an analysis of any particular seminary as it is the affective grid of the institution-known-as- seminary. I offer it as an hypothesis about the problem, and suggest that facing it constructively may assist in achieving a solution to the problem of praying privately.2 The Perfect Society: A Unity of Transcendentals The seminary, whatever its historical origins, seems to think of itself as an autonomous, indeed "perfect society." In an updated version of this ideal, it would be described as a place in which all would be brothers and sisters; in which power would intelligently persuade and invite to participation rather than willfully force; in which external forms of .religious expression would always mirror interior dispositions; and in which each person's relation to sur-rounding Nature would be in terms of appreciating and creating Beauty, rather than exploiting it. Affect and reason would be coincident; and the Good would necessarily flow from and be the origin of both. The truth would always be told; the good would always be practiced; and the beautiful would be in evidence everywhere. Institutional structure would incarnate and measure this integration; individuals would readily learn to assume the responsibility of living these goal,s; and, as St. Paul says, God would be "all in all." This enlightened reincarnation of Christian society, however, contains two major oversights of fact: namely, the overwhelmingly transient character of a seminary's student population, and what has been gracefully entitled by a colleague of mine "human sloth." These may be described in more classical terms as "the finite character of the human condition," and "original sin." Now the inclusion of these two facts of human experience into our descrip-tion of societal mix does not justify removing the human odcasion for achiev-ing freedom. I do not subscribe to the simplification which would suggest: "Mistakes will be made; therefore remove the possibility of mistakes." But their inclusion does allow us to see what happens when it is assumed that an institution can easily incarnate the human good without reference to the criticism required by the acknowledgement of finitude and guilt. The first consequence of these two facts is that power will inevitably fall to 2 1 am also convinced that some of the problems discussed and the solutions proposed, if utilized, would go a long way in aiding contemporary Catholic seminaries in their task of acculturating the older students who are entering seminary at present. 848 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 those who remain the longest in the situation, in this case to the faculty and administration. The second is that this power will be concretized in a bureaucracy which is supposed to "run the system" irrespective of the iden-tities of the participants. Students, faculty, staff, and administration will all feel victims of "the other" who is the system (confer the,response to ques-tions: "That's the way it's done around here," noting especially the neuter passive construction). But because students are the primary mobile popula-tion, they will feel the alienation of power

Issue 20.6 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Carl ]. P]ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 plan of all liturgical worship: 1) the service is begun with a reading; 2) after the reading follows singing; 3) and the service is ended with a prayer. Among the early Christians all prayer services and devotions were carried out accord-ing to this basic plan, and since the third 6r fourth cen-tury this has been the ruling principle of all liturgical services.-" Such a plan is not merely arbitrary, nor is an accidental or aesthetic arrangement of elements. Ac-cording to Father Jungmann: ¯. it is in character with the essential nature of the Christian plan of redemption. Our salvation, typified by the divine word which we receive in the reading, comes from God. It descends from heaven to earth and stirs within the hearts of the faithful the echo of song. Thereupon the prayers and petitions of the Christian community are gathered up and brought back to God on high by the priest. There is something dramatic about this arrangement; through it we actually come to realize what is meant in saying that the liturgy is the public worship of the Church? This structure--reading, song, prayer--is filled out ac-cording to basic themes central to Christian revelation. In the Christian message of salvation and the prayer of the Church, certain themes appear as focal, around which all other truths are centered and from which they receive their meaning.' One of these themes centers on the love and kindness God shows His people. Freely, out of love, He created man; freely and out of even greater love He has worked out man's salvation. Such generous and unmerited good-ness demands a response of love and thanksgiving. Grati-tude is thus ~een as a fundamental attitude of man, and more so of a Catholic: "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good" (Ps 135:1). It is this scriptural theme of God's love calling forth our grateful response that runs through the proposed Thanksgiving Day "bible vigil." Perhaps a fuller explanation will be helpful. Reading God's plan of salvation is effected and manifested to us by His Word, and according to Scripture this redemptive plan is realized gradually. Somehow man's redemption was to be achieved through Israel, the Lord's chosen peo- -"J. A. Jungmann, s.J., Liturgical Worship (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 67. Father Jungmann devotes most of this book to a dis-qussion of the basic liturgical groundplan. See also Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame' Press, 1955). ~ Jungmann, op. cit., p. 80. * For a fuller treatment of the structure and themes of Christian revelation see Johannes Hofinger, S.J., The Art o] Teaching Chris-tian Doctrine (Notre Dalne: University of Notre Dame Press, 1957) and Mary Perkins Ryan, Key to the Psalms (Chicago: Fides, 1957). Most useful for constructing "bible vigils" is Reading the Word ol God by Lawrence Dannemiller, S.S. (Baltimore: Helicon, 1960). pie. After centuries of intimate relations with Yahweh, this nation brought forth a:Savior; from this race the Word Himself took flesh. And when in the fulness of time God became man, He suffered, died and rose from the dead that men might die with Him to sin and .rise with Him to forgiveness and grace. His redemptive activity continues on through the centuries in His new people, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Finally, He is to come again bringing the divine plan to its fulfillment in the new and eternal Jerusalem. The .plan itself is one; likewise the revelation of the plan is unified in the unique Word of God. The Old Testament, then, is not just a collection of interesting and sometimes edifying stories, but the gradual manifestation of God's plan for our sal-vation. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our Father in heaven. He is the one Lord of History, as the Church teaches us in the. liturgy of the Easter Vigil: "O God, we behold your ancient wonders shining even to our own time. For that which the power of your right hand did for one people in freeing them from Egyptian bondage you accomplish now for the salvation of all men by the waters of rebirth." Throughout the Old Testa-ment run basic themes "about God and man's relationship to Him. Although the stories vary,~ the basic relationships do not. Central to the religion o-f the Israelites was the belief that their God, Yahweh, moved by love alone, not-by any merit on their part, had called them, chosen .them out from among the nations, to be .His people_. "You shall be My people, and I will be your~ God" (Ez 36:26). The initiative was wholly on His~part. This call, given initially to Abraham, found its highest expression through Moses in the Exodus, the focal point of Jewish religious history. Their God saved them from slavery, destroyed their pur-suers, and leading them through the desert, formed and purified them into a nation, His chosen people, and fi-nally brought them to the promised.land. The initiative was all His. He perpetuated His call in a covenant with His people, a promise.eternally binding, freely offered out of love. This covenant was prepared for and initiated in the first act of creative love. It became more definitive in the Garden, then with Noah, later with Abraham, and finally with Moses. From then on, it was renewed ritually each yegr by the Hebrew people. Such a covenant renewal ceremony is found, in the book of Nehemiah, 9: 1-55. This then will be the first selection to be read. It is a prayerful remembrance of God's initia-tive in. forming and saving His people, a remembrance of His covenant, His love. After a short period for silent, prayerful reflection on the first reading, a selection from the New Testament is ÷ ÷ ÷ Thanksgiving Da~ Service VOLUME 20, 1961 399 Carl ]. P~ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS read. It indicates the continuation of God!s plan and its culmination in Christ. In Nehemiah the ritual renewal of the covenant-between Yahweh and His people is re-corded in which' the fundamental beliefs of Israel's reli-gion were proclaimed to the assembled nation. These same ideas are fundamental to our belief, for, as we saw, God's salvific plan continues into our era and culminates in Christ. What went before Christ was not accidental to God's plan, and hence, not accidental to our own reli-gious education and worship. Rather it was a preliminary stage, preparatory to the coming of the great High Priest and His priestly people. In Him all history finds its mean-ing. This is the substance of what is expressed in the second selection, taken from Paul's letter to the Ephe-sians. For what God did for His chosen people through Abra-ham, Moses, and the prophets, He continues now in a more perfect manner for us, the new Israel, through Christ. The Jews wer6 set apart by Yahweh, a chosen nation; we are adopted as His sons, made members of His eternal Son, temples of His Spirit. The Jews He led out of Egyptian slavery; He frees us from the power of Satan. The manna of old is replaced by "bread from heaven," and the vague prophecies of the Old Law have given away to the full revelation of the Word. And in-stead of a promised land "flowing with milk and honey," we look forward to-the eternal banquet, where "eye has not seen, nor ear heard . " Such is the great love of our Father in heaven for us His new people. "He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in Christ Jesus, the surpassing richness of his grace" (Eph 2:8). Song Filled with the realization of the goodness of our Father, of His love for us sinful creatures, we sing out in gratitude, making use of Hig own revealed words, Psalm 135. Joined together in a worshipping community we re-spond to His word, which has just taken vital form through 'its proclamation in our midst. We sing now, the new Israel, an ancient Jewish hymn of thanks. And as it recalls Yahweh'S great deeds for His ~oeople, we make the words our own, singing our thanks for His even more wonderful deeds toward us. Our song of gratitude is rooted in faith, faith in the Word we have just heard. This faith is our response to God's call and covenant; it, is our total, personal commitment to our Father, a total giving of self to God in return for His gifts. As with Abraham and the Israelites, this faith is the fundamental virtue of our Christian life. God calls, elects, chooses. To him whom He chooses, He freely offers His graces, eve~ ! Himself. Our response is faith, belief in what He says, but also belief in Him, personal dedication to Him, flow-ing over into gratitude, confidence and joy? Prayer Our gratitude now takes the form of prayer. We exer-cise our priestly role, proper to us who share the priest-hood of Christ by our baptism and confirmation. And we enumerate with gratitude the gifts of the new covenant. God's plan of salvation, begun in the Jewish nation, cli-maxing in the Incarnation and Redemption of Jesus Christ, continues on to us through the Mystical Christ, the Church. It is only by pertaining to this Body of Christ that the saving action of God reaches us through Christ our Lord. Through membership in the new people of God we are in personal contact with our Redeemer. His word is proclaimed in our midst, His grace is shared with us in our personal encounters with Him in His sacra-ments. Through our union with Him we are enabled to offer our Father a suitable thank-offering, the Mass. And through our ever increasing share in His life we have al-ready a ~beginning of that glory which awaits us with Him in heaven. And all of this, prefigured in Yahweh's rela-tionships with His chosen people, is a completely free gift of our Father. United, then, in one worshipping commu-nity, we offer our thanks to our Father in our united prayer. Finally, after a moment of silent prayer following our vocal prayer, the priest gathers up our grateful expres-sions and offers them to God for us. Christ's mediatorship is continued through His ordained priests. They stand between us and God, not as barriers, but as the normal means by which God comes to us and we reach up to God. Through the priest His Word is proclaimed and finds living reality; through the priest Christ allows us to come directly in contact with Him in the sacraments--a per-sonal encounter between us and our Savior. And through the priest Christ offers our prayers to the Father. Hence the service ends with the priest's prayer as our representa-tive. The particular prayer chosen dates from the year 215 A.D. and was composed by Hippolytus of Rome as a sample that migh~ be used in the first Mass of a newly consecrated bishop. It is one of the earliest extant formu-laries for the Prayer of Thanksgiving, or Eucharistic Prayer, now more commonly called the Canon of the Mass. The text has been somewhat adapted for use in this "bible vigil"; the words of consecration, for example have been omitted, as have other references to sacrifice. What remains is a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for God's ~ For,a further treatment of faith as a personal response to God, see Jean Mouroux, I Believe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959). + 4- 4- Thanksgiving Day Se~vi~e VOLUME 20, 1961 401 Cad 1. Pleiler, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 redemptive work through the llfe, death, and resurrection of His Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord. Such, then, is the suggested biblical-liturgical service. Its structure leads to an appreciation of the meaning and purpose of public worship, while its content manifests an essential theme of Christian life an.d revelation. In 'this case, the theme is suited to Thanksgiving Day, Similar "bible vigils" can be worked out for almost any occasion and allow for much variety within the basic group plan of reading, song, prayer. For example, a homily may be preached after the reading(s). And although the Psalms~. are admirably suited to such services, any hymn that fits the theme may be substituted. The priestly prayers of the Mass (Collect, Secret, Preface, Postcommunion) are a rich source of acceptable prayers, as is the Raccolta. And the service may be concluded with Benediction or some other suitable rite. For example, a service constructed on the theme of Baptism might fittingly be concluded with blessing and sprinkling with holy water. So much for the explanation of the ser.vice. The text follows in full, with hymns added at the beginning: and end to round out the basic structure. If used in full, it should take about twenty minutes; verses of the Psalms may be omitted to reduce the time. ENTRANCE HYMN: [stand] Psalm 22" (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse): HIS GOODNESS SHALL FOLLOW ME ALWAYS, TO THE END OF MY DAYS. My shepherd is the Lord; there is nothing I shall want. FreSh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit. [Antiphon] He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your Crook and your staff; with these you give me Comfort. [Antiphon] You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed" with oil; my cup is overflowing. [AntiPhon] OThe text of the three psalms used in the service is taken from Joseph Gelincau, S.J., Twenty-Four Psalms and a Canticle (Toledo: Gregorian Institute of America, 1955) with permission of the pub-lishers~ Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the, days of my life. In the Lord's own house shall' I dwell for ever and ever. [An[iphon] To the Father and Son give glory, give glory to the Spirit. To God who is, who was, ,:and who will be forever and ever. [Antiphon] ' ¯ GOD'S GIFTS IN PREPARATION: [sit] Nehemiah 9: 1-15, 32.' ~ '~ ¯ Then, ~n the twenty-fourth day of this same month~ the men of Israel met together, fasting, and with sack-cloth about them, and sprinkled with dust, ~nd the whole breed of Israel severed itself from all contact with alien, folk. :. This was the prayer offered by the Levi.tes . Up, friends, .and bless the Lord, your God, as blessed he musE be from the beginning to the end of timel.,Blessed be thy. glorious name, O Lords that is beyond all blessing, and all praise! Heaven is of thy fashioning, and the heaven o~ heavens, and all the hosts t.hat dw~ell there, earth and sea~, and all that earth and sea hold; to all these thou givest the life they have; none so high in heayen but must pay thee worship. It was thou,-Lord God, that didst make' choice of Abram, and beckon ~him away from Chaldea, from the City of Fire. And now~ thou. wouldst call~ him Abraham; a loyal servant thou. did~st find him, and didst make a covenant with him, promising that his race should inherit the lands of .Chanaanite and Hethite, Amorrhite and Pherezite, Jebusite, and Gergesite. That promise, in thy faithfulness, thou didst make good, Thou hadst an eye for the affliction our fathers suffered in Egypt, an ear for their cry of distress at the Red Sea; the pride~of Pharao and Pharao's court and all his people, had not passed unregarded; there were porte.nts, an£ cnarvels, and thy name won renown, as it has w~on renown this day: Thou didst part ~the,w~ters.at their coming, so that' they crossed the sea dry-shod, didst hurl their pursuers into the depths of it, so that they sank like a stone be-neath the rushing waves. Thou thyself didst lead thy people on their journey, hidden by day in a pillar of cloud, by night in a pillar of fire, to light the path they must tread. There, on mount Sinai, thou didst keep tryst with them; thy voice came from heaven to teach them thy just decrees, thy abiding law with all its observance.s, all its wholesome bidding. There thou didst reveal to them ~ From the Old Testament, volume i, in the translation of Mo~: ~ignor Ronald Knox, Copyright 1948, Sheed and Ward, Inc, New York. , ,, + Thanksgiving Day Service VOLUME'20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷" Carl 1. Ptei~er, $.], REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 404 how thy sabbath should be kept holy; law and observance and award thou, through Moses, didst hand down to them. When they were hungry, thou didst give them bread from heaven; when they were thirsty, thou didst bring water out of the rock; and for the goal of their journey didst beckon them on to take possession of this same land, which thou hadst sworn .to give them . To thee, then, we turn, who art our God, to thee, the great, the strong, the terrible God, who didst not forget thy covenant, or the mercy thou hast promised. A MOMENT OF SILENT PRAYER [kneel] GOD'S GIFTS IN FULFILLMENT: [sit] Ephesians 1:3-14; 2:4-10.8 Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us, in Christ, with every spiritual blessing, higher than heaven itself. He has chosen us out, in Christ, before the foundation of the wbrld, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him; mark-ing us out beforehand (so his will decreed) to be his adopted children through Jes~us Christ. Thus he would manifest the splendor of that ggace by which he has taken us into his favor in the person of his beloved Son. It is in him and through his blood' that we enjoy redemption, the forgiveness of our sins. So rich is God's grace, that has overflowed upon' us in a full stream of wisdom and~ discernment, to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will. It was his loving design, centered in Christ, to give history its fulfillment by resuming everything in him, all that is in heaven, all that is on earth, summed up in him. In him it was our 10t to be called, singleff out before-hand to suit his purpose, (for it is he who is at work every-where, carrying out the designs of his will); we were to manifest his glory, we who were the first to set our hope in Christ; in. him you too were called, when you listened to the preaching of the truth, that gospel which is your salvation. In him you too learned to believe, and had the seal set on your faith by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit; a pledge of the inheritance which is ours, tO re-deem it for us and to bring us into possession of it, and so manifest God's glory . How rich Godis in mercy, with what an excess of love he lok, ed usI Our sins had made dead men of us, and he, in'giving life to Christ, gave life to us too; it is his grace that has saved you; raised us up too, enthroned us too above the heavens, in Christ Jesus. He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in~ Chri'st Jesus, the surpassing richhess of his grace. Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrumen.t; it s From the New Testament in the translation of Monsignor Ron-aid Knox, Copyright 1944, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York. '/ did not come from yourselves, it wa~ God's gift, not from any action of yours, or there would be room for pride. No, we are his design; God has created us'-in Christ Jesus, pledged to 'such good actions as he has prepared befor~- hand, to be the employment of ~3ur lives. OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN SONG: [stand] Psahn 135 (All sing the following refrain after each phrase of the cantor): FOR HIS' GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END O give thanks to the, Lord for he is go~d, FOR HIS GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END. Give thanks to the God of gods . Give thanks to the Lord ,of lords . Who alone has wrought marveilous works . whose wisdom it was made the skies,. who, spread the earth on :the seas, . It was he that made ~the great lights,. the sun to rule in the day . the moon and the stars in the night,. The first-born of the Egyptians he smote . brought Israel out from their midst . arm outstretched, with power in his hand . He divided the Red Sea in two . made Israel pass through the midst,. flung Pharaoh and his ~orce in the sea,. Through the desert his people he led . Nations in their greatness he struck . Kings in their splendour he slew . He let Israel inherit their land . On his servants their land he bestowed,. He remembered us in our distress . And he snatched us away from our foes,. He gives food to all living things . To the God of heaven give thanks . OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN PRAYER: [kneel] ~lifford Howell, s.J.~ Priest: O Lord God, we thank you. People: ~O LORD GOD, WE THANK YOU. Pr: We thank you *°that our Lord Jesus Christ still lives on in His Church. ~ The text of the people's prayer is qubt¢d with pei'mission of the publisher from the leaflet by Clifford H6well, S.J., You are Christ's Body (St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1949), p. 3. ÷ Thanksgiving DWy Service VOLUME 20, 1961 4o~. 4, 4, + Carl 1. P]eif~r," $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 Pe:,.WE THANK YOU * .,THAT THROUGH HIS CHURCH *' HE CONTINUES HIS ACTIV-ITIES AMONG MEN. Pr: We thank You * that when the C[aurch teaches * it is Christ who teaches. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WHEN THE CHURCH SACRIFICES * IT IS CHRIST WHO SACRIFICES. Pri We thank You Christ ~vho doe~ all these things * through the Church, His Mystical Body. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT~WE HAVE BEEN MADE MEMBERS * OF THIS MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Pr: We thank You * that as members of this Body * we can worship You through Christ our Head * in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WE MAY OBTAIN ALL GRACES * FROM YOUR HOLY SACRA-MENTS. Pr: We thank You * that through Your Church we may attain to Eternal Life. Pe: O LORD GOD, WE THA.NK YOU~ * TO YOU BE PRAISE IN YOUR CHURCH * AND IN JESUS CHRIST * FOR EVER AND EVER. * AMEN. A MOMENT OF SILEN~ T PRAYER. OUR PRAYERFUL RESPONSE OFFERED TO GOD THROUGH THE PRIEST: [stand] Hippolytus oI Rome?° Priest: The Lord be with you. P~eople: AND WITH YOU ALSO. Priest: Lift up your':h~arts. People: WE HAVE. LIFTEI~ THEM UP TO THE LORD. Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord. People: IT IS RIGHT AND JUST. Priest: We give thanks to You, O God, "through Your be-loved servant, Jesus Christ, whom You have sent dtoe eums eirn a tnhde smee lsassetn tgimere° so fto Y boeu or ucro usanvsieol.r Haned i sre- Your Word, inseparable from You; thrqugh Him You have made all things and in Him You are well pleased. You did send Him from heaven into, the womb of the Virgin; carried in her womb He was made flesh and was manifested as Your Son; being born of the Holy Ghost and,. of the Virgin. FulfilIing,your Will and acquiring for You a holyl people He stretched out His hands in suffering in~ lo The full text of this thanksgiving prayer can be found in J. A Jungmann, s.J., Public Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957j~] pp. 92-3.if' order that He might free from suffering those who believed in Him . He was handed over to volun-tary suffering to rob death of its power, to break the bonds of the devil, to tread hell underfoot, to give light to the just, to set up a boundary stone and an-nounce the resurrection . Remembering there-fore His death and resurrection., we thank You that You have considered us worthy to stand before You and to serve You. And we pray that You will send down the Holy Spirit on Your Church. Be-cause You gather all together in unity, we pray that You will grant the fulness of the Holy Spirit to all the saints., that their faith may be strengthened in truth, and that we may praise and glorify You through Your servant Jesus Christ, through whom honor and glory be unto You, O Father, with Your Son and the Holy Spirit in Your Holy Church both now and for ever and ever. People: AMEN. CONCLUDING HYMN: [stand] Psalm 99 (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse.): ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing for joy. [Antiphon] Know that he, the Lord, is God. He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep Of his flock. [Antiphon] Go within his gates, giving thanks. Enter his courts with songs of praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. [Antiphon] Indeed, how good is the Lord, eternal his merciful love; he is faithful from age to age. [Antiphon] Give glory to the Father AJmighty, to 'his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lord, to the Spirit who dwells in our heartsY [Antiphon] n For further information on "bible vigils" see "Organizing a Bible Vigil," by Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., in Worship, February, 4. 1960, pp. 144-48 and the article by the present writer, "Popular 4. Devotions--a New Look!" to be published soon in Homiletic and Pastoral Review. Examples of such vigils can also be found in Wor-ship, January and March, 1959; March, 1960; January, 1961. Tiuml~giving Day Serv~e VOLUME 20, 1961~ 407 RICHARD M. MCKEON, S.J. ' Human Relations in Religion ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard M. McKeon, $.J., is the director of the Institute for In-dustrial Relations at Le Moyne College, Syracuse $, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 The title of this article may seem strange to many. Cer-tainly a great deal has been written about the human factor as applied to the religious and the priestly life. But we wonder if there has ever been a systematic study of human relations in religion similar to the hundreds which are being made in the field of industry. Before me .is book, Human Relations in Management, numbering over 750 pages. Subject to correction, I doubt if there is a similar book concerning human relations in religious management. The following are some of the topics treated in the book: the human factor in industry, the philosophy management, conditions of effective leadership, motiva-tion and increased productivity, work group behavior, basic psychological factors in communication, the psy-chology of participation, dealing with resistance to change, empathy--management's greatest need. If great accent is being placed on human relations "as a systematic, develop-ing body of knowledge devoted to explaining the behavior of industrial man," should there not be a similar body knowledge based on the best findings of the behavioral sciences to explain the human relations factor.in religious and priests? The history of industrial relations shows how the human element was sorely neglected up to the start of the twenti-eth century. That was why in 1891 Leo XIII issued his famous encyclical letter On the Condition of the Working Class. Up to World War II there were some noted ad-vances in this field, as the Hawthorne Studies and the im-petus prompted by the passage of the National Labor Relations Act show. But from 1945 to the present the study and application of human relations in industry has been phenomenal. With these thoughts in mind I shall make comment on an article, "The Human Relations of a Foreman," pub-lished in the Monthly Letter of the Royal Bank of Canada for May, 1961. By applying some of the topics to the re-ligious and priestly life, the need for further exploration will be evident. "Why is the supply of men of supervisory capacity so thin?" Why have so many superiors in religion been lacking in the qualities which make for good administra-tion? Many answers will be given and I have listened to them for over forty years. Some will point out men who have been advanced with no worthwhile achievement behind them--merely because they were sources of no trouble. Is there also a chance that,administrative pro-motion in religion is connected with nepotism and cliques? It is true, of course, that the principles and rules of re-ligious life will sustain su~cient order in a community even under a poor administrator; the vow of obedience is the great foundation here. But in this article let us set aside the supernatural side and try to view human re-lations in the light of modern industry. Let us begin by remarking that just as a foreman in a factory needs "poise, wisdom, suppleness of mind, courage, and energy, besides the know-how of his technical special-ity," so also are these qualities to be hoped for in a su-perior. A superior is called upon to be an executive. Do the current methods of selecting a superior prove that he possesses executive talent for this or that particular position? Take, for instance, the priest who has charge of the ma-terial things in a seminary or a religious house where the teachers and students number one hundred or more, As far as shelter, food, and material services are concerned, such an institution is like a hotel. While custom, tradition, and discipline will keep things going, it is evident that such a priest would do a far better job if he had a course in hotel management. We all know the grand rush for our priests and religious to go on for higher studies in order that Catholic intellectual life be improved. This is to be commended. But is it not logical also to send those in charge of the ordinary living conditions of religious and priests to special studies to improve such conditions? Such training should result in better economical operation as well as in better living conditions. Have you ever tried to dry yourself with the moisture-proof towels found in certain communities? "Good human relations is people getting along well to-gether." It is not enough to rely on the religious or the priestly garb to command proper respect. Respect should b'e won by "intelligence, administrative competence, and the power to make men follow him~ because of personal attributes." All evidence of playing a policeman's role mnst be avoided. + + + Human Relations VO~-UME 20, 1961 409 4. o÷ R. M~ McKeon, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 Every religious and priest is a person; the superior must show a. sincere interest in each one; he must give him a sense of really belonging to the team--the institution under the superior's charge. The superior's chair must not be turned into a throne; around it there should be an atmosphere empty of fear but rich with sympathetic un-derstanding. "The best company to work for, and the company that gets the best work done, is the company with a strong company-group feeling." There are and will be divided religious communities; they are not pleasant places to live in.,How can such a situation be remedied? One answer is by superiors "who obtain the collaboration of people in their work-groups through loyalty and liking and coopera-tion." A superior will assign a subject a task; the subject will obey. But it is certain that the job will be better clone if the superior has excited enthusiasm, initiative, loyalty. "However.tall a man may stand in the hierarchy of management, he is not a successful executive unless he un-derstands the points of view and the problems of the rank and file of his workers." This statement is equally true of the religious superior. Unless his interest is sincere and sympathetic, subjects may do their work; but human na, ture being what it is, we wonder how good the work will be. ~A superior must prove himself superior; otherwise his authority is bound to suffer. It is necessary to strengthen that authority by personal performance and demonstrated ability, Good managers ask their workers for counsel and help. They know, that fine ideas are often buried in the mind waiting for the right tapping. The post-war growth of suggestion systems is proof that industry values the min'd of subordinates. It gives courteous hearing to such ideaS; it allows workers to take part in decisions. By such action workers feel that their jobs are important and that they share in responsibility. A few words abou~ discipline. In his own development, a manager should learn to obey. "But discipline is more than blind obedience. The word itself comes from ,the same root as the word 'disciple,' and a disciple is one who follows the teachings and the example of a respected leader." A good manager will have discipline because he is fair in the allotment of work and in the handling of grievances and because he inspires. He is not worried about "losing face" by appearing too human. In a crisis he will be forceful but friendly. The same things will be true of a good superior in reli-gion. Moreover, in his case there is the supreme examplel of Christ in His handling of His disciples to drive home many a lesson applicable to religious life. Christ con7 demned, sin; He had love and mercy for the sinner. "Probably foremost among the techniques of handling men is .the building of morale through praise and en-couragement. Commendation by a superior is of great consequence. It breeds loyalty and it inspires the worker to follow "through." Religious and priests are human and will remain so till their dying breath. Human nature likes encouragement especially when skies are dark. Religious and priests are also humble; when just praise from su-periors is lacking, they will console themselves by remem-bering the words of our Lord: ~'Even so you also, when you have done everything that was commanded you; say 'We are unprofitable,servants; we have done what it _was our du_ty to do.' " But praise justly won for doing one's duty weli means a. great deal in religious life. It does boost morale and it .strengthens self-confidence. It makes~a man willing to as-sume more difficult work. Moreover, when a superior gives credit to his community on the occasion of his in-stitution receiving public praise, he will build up initia-tive and a mutual sense of responsibility. I believe that the words of Peter F. Drucker, an. expert in management matters, should be applied to a religious superior. He writes: "Who is a manager can be defined only by a man's function and by the contribution he is expected to make. And the function which distinguishes the manager above all others is his educational one. The one contribution he is ~uniquely expected to make is'to give others vision and ability to perform:It is vision and moral responsibility that, in the last analysis, define the manager." In the previously mentioned textbook, Human R~la-tions in Management, over one hundred pages are de-voted to communication. I am willing to wager that no treatise on the religious life has a quarter amount of'this topic developed as it should be. If successful communica-tion is necessary for the functioning of industry, it should be equally, true for the religious life. Effective communication can build up a stronger com-munity spirit. How embarrassing it has been for religious and priests to be among lay people and hear, for ex-ample; that a new building will be built on the campus about which they have heard nothing. XVhen special work is assigned, it is,well for superiors to give the subject all information possible or refer him to one. who can help him. When information is passed through several superiors, measures should be'.taken to keep the original information intact. If the lower superiors are not able to explain clearly the.orders and policies of the "top brass," confusion will be more confounded among the rank and file. Communication is a two-way street. A good superior will listen to his subjects. Many have excellent brains + ÷ + Human Relations VOLUM.E 20, 196,1 ÷ ÷ 4. R. M. McKe~n~ $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 and are trained in special fields. To pose as all-knowing and not to recognize the interest and contribution of such subjects for the common good is a fatal error. As.I was writing this article, the new president of the college called a special meeting of the community to in-form them about plans for three proposed buildings and for the future development of the entire campus. Three members of the architect's firm spent over two hours ex-plaining intimate aspects of the plans and answering ques-tions. Then followed an informal discussion for another h6ur. As a result, the entire community has a greater in-terest. The president said very little outside of thanking the architects; but he was responsible for this excellent,job of communication. "Sound administration is the sum total of mature imagination, mature perception, mature judgment, and mature humanism." It is well to remember that maturity is not a matter of years of service but of mental develop-ment. It calls for self-discipline manifested by regularity in work habits, exactness in execution, and alertness; More-over "healthy self-criticism and continued willingness to learn are among the important attributes of the foreman" --and likewise for the religious superior. One purpose of this article is to call attention to the great number of books and magazines dealing with the human aspects of industry. In them will be found a wealth of material which can be applied to the religious and priestly life. It is also true that we of the Church, if prop-erly trained, can give to industry the constructive princi-ples of our Christian heritage: the Sermon on the Mount, for example; can be developed into a powerful treatise in industrial relations. What holds for leadership in industry is also true in religion. "Leadership means to initiate, to instruct, to guide, to take responsibility, to be out in front . The joy of leadership and the thrill of being in charge of a group of people does not consist in doing a terrific iob yourself, but in spending your last ounce of energy and encouragement to see the group crack through to success." There have been magnificent leaders in the priesthood and religious life as history testifies. But certainly the Church would make better progress in these critical times if our leaders were well vbrsed in human relations within their respective groups. If the development of human nature studies in industry can be of help to the Church, let us be humble and sincere in translating the best things into the priestly and religious life. SISTER MARTHA MARY, c.s.J. The, Wisdom of Praise Why is p?aise such a welcome sound in our ears? Is it be- Cause we are so egotistic or is it rather that we, as social beings, have such a deep need for the approval of others? St. Thomas remarks that dependence on others is typical of the rational creature. Security in the companionship of our family and associates is our first and most enduring need as a human being. No amount of food, entertain-ment, or suhshine will take th~ place of this ingredient of life. Every li¢ing person needs to know that he is loved and appreciated; and if such recognition is not forthcoming, life loses much of its meaning. He feels that he is'maimed in some interior and frightening way, for deep in his heart everyone agrees with the poet's words: "No man is an is-land." It is interesting to note that our Lord praised people without any hesitation. He praised the widow for her in-significant contribution in the, temple, Mary Magdalene for loving much, the centurion for his faith. What glow-ing words He had for St. John the Baptist, a supposed rivalI1 Sometimes He made these remarks in the presence of the person praised; sometimes not. What is important is that we know our Lord did communicate to others who were with Him the conviction that He appreciated them. He did it by words of praise in many recorded instances. True, He warned against flattery, but that was something quite different, the antithesis of praise--false praise. Jesus Christ was always the enemy of hyp.ocrisy; He was always on the side of truth because He is truth. The qnly true praise is truth. Thus flattery is ruled out from the start. How could it have any meaning when it has no basis in truth? Praise is based on real accomplishment or at least the capacity for ~ Lk 21 : 2-4; 7 : 44--~0; 7 : 9; 7 : 26-28. Sister Martha Mary, C.S.J., teaches religion and English at St. Jos-eph Academy, 1015 South Monroe Avenue, Green Bay; ,Wisconsin. VOLUME 20, 1961 41.~ 4. 4. Sister Martha Mar~ REVIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS 414 this achievement; flattery is an appeal to another's vanity. Praise flows from principle; flattery comes from policy. Praise is genuine; flattery, is counterfeit. Yet, just as no one rejects all currency because he knows that counterfeit money is in circulation,, so no one would wisely reject all praise simply because flattery does exist. Praise is a great goo~ because it is the straightforward recognition of the cooperation of another with the grace of God. Every worthwhile deed a person accomplishes is brought to fruition under the grace of God without whom no one can do the ~lightest thing. This awareness of the good in others is made tangible by words of praise and by the pleasant relationship which these words set up. Praise be-comes the externalization of the empathy within the heart. It is a combination of joy, gladness, and great-heartedness. It is the visible expression of love and admiration. It is the positive keeping of the eighth commandment which is so closely connected with the great commandment. The Christian is so busy bearing true, glowing, enthusiastic witness to the neighbor that he chnnot bear false witness. To praise, then, is to be virtuous. But is praise not t~o be considered_ dangerous to hu-mility? Will it not be aft inducement to pride? Will it not draw us away from God and focus our attention on self? St. Thomas allays our fears on this point. He says that praise can be a very good thing, and this for several rea-sons. Rightfulpraise is iri reality the praise of God through whose power the good ~eeds have been performed. Sec-ondly, the praise of good may stimulate others to emulate these good acts. Finally, prhise is a means by which one can come to recognize good qualities in himself, the talents which God has entrusted to him. Once recognized, these talents can be developed and the person possessing them can thank God in all humility for the many gifts he has received. How could he be grateful if he did not know what God had given? Awareness brings gratitude. In these words, St. Thomas points out that praise is a means to an end; it i's not to be sought as an end in itself.2 God is the end, but praise is a very powerful stimulant to approach Him more quickly. The theological viewpoint receives strong support from psychologists who agree that vanity, conceit and other un-desirable qu.aliti~s flourish widely where recognitiofi is not given, for they serve as modes of self-defense when a per-son's sense of personal worth is or is thought .to be under attack. Humility flourishes best in an atmosphere of loving approval, and the normal means for making known this approval is praise. Regarding this, Sister Annette spoke at some length to religious superiors at the 1959 Institute of Spirituality: ¯ Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 132, a. 2. All that you have to do to demonstrate that there really is no incompatibility between humility and a sense of personal' worth is to work very hard and consistently for a while at giv-ing your Sisters a sense of personal worth. Show your appreci-ation, of ~hat they are. doifig. Give. them praise whenever, p.os-s~ ble . And you will see more evidences of genuine humility than you did before this principle of psychology was applied so assiduously in your hguse. You see, it is the secure S~ster, the Sister who feels that she counts for something with her superior and with her community, who can afford to be humble. She is not continually being called upon to defend herself . A sense of p.ersonal worth is not only ~ao detriment to the virtue of hu-mility but it is also a natural help to. the .acquisition of humility.8 Father Nuttin notes that individual, actions tend to be repeated in .proportion to the success achieved: ~Experimental data about the way human personality de-velops from past experience show that normal forms of be-havi'our and the dyndmic forces which lie behind them, tend,to develop according to the success achieved; that is to say, forms of behaviour which lead to a satisfactory result are maintained by theoorganism, whilst the kinds of behaviour~ that end in fail-ure or a comparatively unsatisfactory result are increasingly eliminated.' If such is the case, ignoring good actiom, or worse yet, condemning them, may be a p6sitive deterrent to the praiseworthy development of another; Whether we wish to be or not, we constitute someone else's env~ironment. Now the question can be asked: Who should praise? Theologians and psychologists agr~ee that"~ tO produce its most desirable effects, praise must be given'by those who matter to us. Father Lord, in perhaps his greatest pamph-let, In Praise of Praise, comments thus: I should be quick to praise and eager to approve those who are connected with me by blood and kinship. The nearer the re-lati. onship, the more spontaneous and generous should-be my praise. I should gladly praise those who in the slightest .way depend on me. Their dependence extends to a real need for a state-ment that I like them and their work. I should be quick to notice and point out the good work of associates. Assoctation can easily turn out to be less the'occasion for friendship than for rivalry. That is tragic. Men and women thrive under the approval of those who work at their side. I am wise if I.praise those who are or could be my rivals. I may be sure the praise given to them is not stolen from me. Indeed, if I were to play a calculating and selfish game, I can remember that when I praise a rival and speak well of work that parallels my own, I am displaying my own generosity of soul.8 ~ Sister Mary Annette, C.S.J., "Environmental Factors Conditioning Personal Development," in Proceedings oI the 1959 Sisters' Institute o] Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: Uni-versity of Notre Dame Press, 1960); pp. 105-06. ¯ ' Joseph Nuttin, Psychoanalysis and Personality (New.York: Sheed and Ward, 1953), p. 185. ~ Daniel A Lord, S.J., In Praise o[ Praise (St.Louis: Queen's Work, 1953), pp. 47-8. + ÷ + VOLUME "20, 1961 415 $ist~ Ma~tha Ma~y REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 416 It is a known fact that many persons in the United States, even religious, go to 'a psychiatrist to have selbconfidence restored. How has it been lost? Might not a steady diet of apreciation have helped to prevent such personality starv-ation? The duty to praise is far'reaching indeed. It includes family, superiors, associates, everyone--in varying degrees. But for those in a pgsition of authority, the duty is more pressing because the results are more telling. What about religious superiors? Where praise exists, there is a smooth-running, happy community. Where recognition is never given, the virtue of the subjects is tested to the extremes; duty is made very difficult. A much-lo~ed superior general used to say to her subjects: "Do this, Sister dear, with the grace of God and your own smartness." She made her subjects feel that the cooperation they gave to God was tremendous and that they were great persons. They left her presence feeling that they could conquer the world for Christ. Deep in their hearts they felt, too, that perhaps their cooperation had been somewhat defective in the past, but that such a thing would never happen again. Such attitude of mind is healthy. Just the opposite is the de-flation felt when one has been told how inconsequential" one,s achievements and capabilities are. There is no to de better, just a dead feeling that one's clay feet match the rest of one's anatomy. There is always', the danger too, that since religious regard superiors the special representatives of God in their lives, unguarded and thoughtless remarks may be taken very seriously. The commitment of a religious demands excellence performance because what is done for Christ should be' perfection itself. However, a superior who takes the ex-cellent performance of her subjects for granted, does not establish a happy community feeling. The mere fact she provides a well-balanced diet for them, comfortable sleeping quarters, and the proper medicine for them when~ they are sick, does not compensate for a lack of confidence' and trust. Sisters value such comments as: "You did that well, Sister"; "I heard Dr~ Jones comment on your "The talk you gave at assembly was splendid"; "That apple pie tasted just like my mother's." When~ such remarks are made, the small talk of religious becomes, big talk because it makes each member feel that she is necessary person in her religious family, Does this mean that the praise must be all on the side the superior? Should the subject praise the superior? Ob-viously, since praise which is true praise is merely aspect of 19ve, the subject ought to show her appreciationl! for her superior. Too often this manifestation of regard classified as "polishing the apple" or "getting a stand-Yet, in religious communities no one ever aoes anyt alone. Subjects must back their superiors, not just from a sense of duty but in a happy manifestation of esprit de corps. This is best done when appreciation is shown on both sides; therefore, subjects ought not to fear to tell their superiors that a job has beefi well done, that they ap-preciate kindnesses. On the whole, superiors receive less praise than they should. They need kind words to counter-balance the worry and responsibility they have to shoulder. Superiors do a better job when they feel the warmth of subjects' love and admiration. When is the best time to praise a person? Obviously there is no pat answer for this; still it seems that praise should be given as soon as possible after achievement as it is a powerful tonic for relieving the fatigue concomitant with difficult work. It should be given, also in the tedium of steady progress toward distant goals, and it should be given at the moment of failure when discouragement may overwhelm one. In fact, there is no time unsuitable for praise; yet, it is of least value when it is prefaced by un-kind remarks simply because there is little likelihood that it will be believed. Praise, then, we may conclude, is a powerful incentive to virtue when it comes from one who matters to us, when it concerns a good action in an aspect of life which is im-portant to us, and when it is rightly timed. Praise is pre-cious and abundantly at hand. Then why is there so little of it in circulation? Observation will furnish the answer. Praise cannot thrive where there is selfishness, thoughtless-ness, and jealousy, It does not spring from misinterpreted moral principles. Praise is choked in the worldliness of our product-conscious age. All our superlatives have been cheapened in advertisements of such things as cars, beer, patent medicine, soap, and toothpaste. The people who invented these things have usually never been heard of. It seems that only diseases are named for their discoverers. Since the product has taken precedence over the person, we praise the product and ignore the person who devised it. This subtle and damaging form of worldliness can not only creep into religious communities but even thrive un-der the protection of ill-applied moral principles. The extent of the damage which results is almost impossible to gauge. This is true because very few people in the world have enough self-confidence to compensate for not receiving it from others. In our age, most people, rather than tending to pride, seem to be on the opposite side. They tend to be too afraid, infantile, immature, or in a Thomistic sense, pusillanimous. We are more like the man in the parable of the talents who buried his one talent. It is an odd, Jansenistic notion, I suppose, that makes many of us afraid to encourage others for fear we will make them ÷ ÷ Prate VOLUME 201 1961 proud. This is least likely to happen in our age. Rather we seem to need true encouragement to help us along the way.~ The need that is most basic,to our spirit is the need to be loved. We cannot live normally without it, It is being loved by others that gives us our sense of personal worth. Why should we hesitate to let this love shine through our words? Granted that praise does good to others. Does it help the one who bestows it? Yes. Praise dilates the heart. It fills us with love. It makes us outgoing. It makes us want to live life, not just to undergo it. Hearts that sing with praise are far removed from the dry rot of egotism. St. Thomas in explaining why God demands our praise and worship for Himself, underlines the fact that we are the ones who are benefited~ not God. Praise opens us up to God so that we can make contact with the divine. An analogous thing happens when we praise our neighbor. We praise God when we praise what He has made. Thus true praise finds its beginning in the worship of God. °Charles A. Curran, "Some Basic Factors in the Formation of Feminine Character and Spirituality," in Proceedings o! the 1959 Sisters" Institute o[ Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), pp. 59-60. 4- Sister Martha Mary REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 418 FATHER AIDAN, C.P. The Examination of Conscience Cemeteries are not, I suppose, places to which we would willingly go to 'pass our time. It is true that the grave-zligger in Hamlet sang at his grave-making, but theh 'custom hath made it in hima property of easiness"; less frequent visitors find light-heartedness the least of their emotions. If the churchyard is well=kept, colorful, and dive with flowers; the contrast between what it looks like ~nd what it serves' as is themore marked; if on the other ,Land it is neglected and untended, theatmosphere of g'en;., eral mournfulness and melancholy befitting the place is dl the more enhanced. No doubt Gray's "Elegy" has done .nuch to contribute to this association of ideas, but the ,~ensive sadness he found in his churchyard is a feeling =ommon to nearly all. I wonder whether a religious about to make his examen ¯ f conscience ever finds himself oppressed by much the ame sensation. Here we are---daily invited to 'attend and :arefully inspect the tombs of our buried ~hopes, our luickly perished good resolutions, our infant virtues; to emember carefully all the ills and diseases that did them o swiftly to death, and thereby to guard more effectively ,gainst the future attacks which we know to be inevitable. 1~o return again and again to the scede of so many defeats, o behold repeatedly evidences of such .feeble efforts--it an be a depressing pilgrimage, so depressing that th6 de- ,otion essential to any pilgrimage quickly evaporates,and ve fall into a routine performance of a task which ought o be, must be, fulfilled: And: tlien, perhaps, our resolutions, like everything me-hanical, begin to wear down. We become less convinced ,f the utility of the practice;, after all, we know ourselves ~retty welt by flow, so wliavis the point of this cons'~ant elf-analysis? Our duties keep us busy, our day is a full ohm, ,nlooked-for circumstances rob us of our precioffs~ mo-aenis; they surely can not be squandered on so profitless ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Aidan, C.P., teaches English at. St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Orraskirk, Lancs., England. VOLUME 20, 1961 419 Father Aidan, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 and dispiriting an employment. It can well be treated more cursorily, shortened, even omitted altogether. We are amazed to read what great store has been set on the examen by spiritual writers-~quite reputable ones, too~ and we can only feel that they are given to pious exaggera-tion. Yet for all our specious reasoning, the examen is an es-sential feature in our spiritual life, Perhaps it is not merely our practice of it, but our attitude towards it that stands in need of re-orientation. Perhaps we should remember more firmly that it represents not a solo effort with our-selves as judge and jury, plaintiff and defendant, but a joint partnership between ourselves and Christ. After all, the dead we mourn in our own little cemetery were also once His. He is concerned about all those abortive efforts, those frustrated failures, those sadly neglected promises. The sorry wreckage we contemplate so ruefully is not merely the ruin of our own hopes; it is also the thwarting of His loving desires for us. If we remember His presence,~ His concern in what we do, then perhaps we shall not find it too heart-breaking or too strength-sapping a task. When we look out of a window at a view beyond, we, are really lo~king at two things. We see the window itself,I and through it we see the landscape. Our gaze, it is true,,, is focused on the view, and we are aware of the windowl only secondarily, in a vague sort of way. Further, the more magnificent and appealing the view, the less conscious we are ot~ the intervening glass. There is a certain analogy here with our examen. Our souls should be like clear glass, through Which can be seen the magnificent spectacle of God. Too often, however, that unclouded pane becomes speckled and spotted with dust and dirt, so that it steadily grows opaque. It is to removing the source of that dirt that our examen is directed, so that~ we may look beyond to the splendor of divine brightness, Obviously, to clean merely for the sake of cleaning, like a fussy house-proud housewife, is a soulless occupation. The window is cleaned so that it may be seen through-~ that the beholder may gaze in full enjoyment at the beauty beyond. And when we are once convinced that the view is really worth looking at, surely we labor more eagerly at the window cleaning. In other words, when we attend to keeping clean the window of our soul, we must have our gaze steadily focused on the sight of our Divine Lord beyond. We should not rest in a sterile contemplation of our own limitations-- that way lies discouragement--but should compare them, at once with the unlimited virtues in the Sacred Heart Of Christ. He can, and He will, help us to remove those limitations, if we sincerely will to allow Him to do it. The sincere will to let Him have His way--perhaps i.t, ~as been the lack of this that has made our examens in the past so tedious, so disheartening, so~ fruitless. So easy to allow a gush of self-pity to drown the good resolution; so easy to stand idle, paralyzed with dismay, at the revela-tion of our utter weakness; so e~igy to forget our Divine Partner in the examen, that "combined. operation" that is nothing less than the accomplishment, together with Him, af the redemption He has died to bring, us. This should be remembered even if our examen ,has lacked more than sincere good will, and has been only a perfunctory formality--a mere lip-service without any ,eart-searching.: A few pet imperfections hurriedly re-clewed, their number estimated vaguely if at all, some nechanical acts~of sorrbw and petition, and we rise hastily _o get on with the real business of the dayRsomething for which we can see some positiveresult and tangibl~.fruit Of :ffort. Never a substitute for sincerity; formality has, llere ~. fossilizing effect; every subsequent examen only serves _o add a further stratum in the soul and renders future ~clamation more and more remote. Yet if with us works Dne for whom no obstacle exists, save only in our own tardened wills, we can not doubt the outcome. ~ There can be no excuse of "parvity of matter"~in our .elf-analysis. We are never likely to run short of raw ma, erial.'Our vows, our duties, the virtues we should practice, ,ur attitude to and our contacts with our neighbor--all ,r0vide us with food enough for reflection, and after re, iection, action. If it seems otherwise, then we know with ertainty that we are deceiving ourselves. Five loaves and wo fishes seemed at first a scanty meal for a few men; yet, _~lessed by our Divine Lord, they provided ample nourish- ,-tent for five thousand--and still there were left twelve ~askets of fragments. If we complacently survey our soul :nd can see little therein to engage our attention for long, ;'e need the blessing of Christ upon our efforts to detect ,ur infidelities; then we shall be kept busy indeed. Our poverty, for instance--what can we check on there? .~o great breach, perhaps, but are there no ,lesser infideli-ies? A practical distrust of Providence, for example; else ;,hy do we so often hoard up so much for such~remote ontingencies? How about our spirit of detachment? Why 11 those knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that so drearily ollect the dust in our rooms? They would be at home no loubt in a drawing room, but in a religious cell?. "But, ,f course, I should willingly give them up if the superior sked me for them." And how likely is that? Superiors rave surely more sense than to ask their subjects for lbums-of photographs, tawdry little souvenirs, showy ittle gewgaws, or even that battered copy of the New I'estament, guarded so jealously since profession day-- or its sentimental value only. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Or, as superiors, have we put purposes before persons; The purpose we have in mind, that is, before the .persons we should have in mind, those under us whom we are responsible to bring closer to Christ. Have we neglected to give them what we might have done well to give them, with the excuse that necessary retrenchments must be made in order to meet the expenses of some pet project of ours? Has there been an over-cautious pruning of certain preliminary expenses, which in the long run will impair the success of the complete scheme as a whole? We must be poor after the manner of Christ. The key: note of His way of living was simplicity. He did not create artificial needs; He did not hanker after what conduced' merely to comfort. He 'accepted what was given, when it was .given, and did not repine; He slept how, when, and Where He could, and was content; born in another man',, stable, He was buried in another man's tomb. All through His life, His indifference about means shines out: "Do no~ fret~ over your life"; "Be not solicitous, therefore.,' He showed practically His self-aband0nment to the provi: dential.care of His heavenly Father. Analysis of our practice of obedience is another useful mine of self-information. Perhaps our faith here has bei come imperceptibly weaker over the years; we are more conscious of the ,human limitations of the superior ~than we are of the fact that he represents Christ for us. (Yet suppose our Lord had seen the cross merely as a painful instrument of an ignominious death?) Would we not go freely and willingly to Christ to discuss our ideas, plans, suggestions-not trying to catch Him at an off-moment of distraction or when we know He is in a "good mood;!' or when we have paved the way for a successful issue b careless hints? Would we not abide by His decision, after discussion, He gave judgment against our petition~ so obviously to us the best for all concerned? If He were to order us tosome employment which we felt would only expose us to almost certain failure, with all its consequem mortification, we would surely not ~'twist and turn frenzied efforts at evasion. He needs our efforts to do Hi., work about as much :as the sun needs a candle to light thb world; but He does look 'for our good will. Or as superiors, remembering that the sole purpose ot the authority we hold from Christ is to bring those ~ndel us nearer to Him, have we really tried to understand sym pathetically the capabilities and limitations of those dis ciples of His? "Splendid isolation, may be all very well a~ a political slogan; it should be far from the mind of superior. The crown of thorns round the brow is probab!: inevitable; but no prickly thickets round the heart shouR render access difficult and even impossible. Man is, cording to Shakespeare, "dressed in a little brief autho~l ity," and should not play "such fantastic :tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep:" The donkey that bore our Lord into Jerusalem had his moment of triumph, felt the garments under his feet, saw the palm branches being waved as he passed, heard the hosannas and shouts of joy; but he would have been an ass indeed to assume that it was for him that the people were rejoicing. The manner in which we obey provides a wide field for examination. "Prompt, blind, and cheerful" is cer-tainly a high enough ideal. We need to ~be on our guard against any "delaying tactics" ("He may think better of it in a day or so") and against any disinclination to carry out what our own intelligence does not dommend. And if the Lord loves a cheerful giver, how much more is He pleased by. a hearty, willing obedience? Yet~how much disobedi-ence may be dignified by the name of manly self-assertion; and how often may pusillanimity usurp, the title of obedi-ence? We must obey as Christ obeyed. Had He not been obedient "unto death, even the death of the cross," we should not have been redeemed at all. He saw the will of His Father in everything that" befell Him, and "the things that are pleasing to Him.I' do always." Authority, even when vested in unworthy holders of office, whether malicious like Caiphas or weak like Pilate, always re-ceived from Him its due recognition, without servility or consideration of human motives. He knew that even such as these "would have no authority, unless it were given from above"; and since from above it.had been given, He submitted to itowith obedience and dignity. Yet even He, Son of God as He was, had to "learn obedience by the things He suffered." ¯ Our third vow, chastity, is perl~aps, best considered under its~ aspect of love, since serious failure here will not require examination, being self-evident. It is possible to allow our very pursuit of purity to blind us to its wider implications. If we. do not find in ourselves anything con-trary to our vow, we should thank God: "I could not other-wise be continent, except God gave. it." Yet are we in-tolerant and censorious of the peccadilloes of others? The "heart of iron for chastity" must not preclude the "heart of flesh for charity"; for "chastity-without charity shall be chained in hell." A mortal sin again~st charity.will kill the soul no less effectively than a mortal sin against chas-tity. Purity means that we long to love only God and for His sake all others. If self-complacent purity should lead to bitter, wounding remarks and unkind lack of considera-tion, we are completely missing the end of the sacrifice entailed by the vow; we might well ask: "To what purpose was this waste?" Again, it is surely only an incomplete view to confine ÷ ÷, ÷ Ex~mi~tlon o Comci~nce VOLUME 20, 1961 423 ÷ ÷ ÷ our warfare against "the flesh" to sexual temptations alone, Perhaps we may not indeed have offended here; but if faith wanes dim, and love waxes cold, there is the danger of the law of compensation creeping upon us unawares. We may tend to grow self-indulgent in smaller matters: to prolong our sleep unnecessarily, to be fussy over what we have to eat and drink, to be fastidious and finical about what we are given to wear, to show a marked disinclina-tion for work that is boring, disturbs our ease, or does not suit us. Purity should not preoccupy us so much that freedom from its grosser infringements blinds us,to the necessity of mortifying our senses--also "the flesh"--our taste, touch, ease, vanity. Nor should our natural propensity for friendship lead us to exclusiveness or to the loss of the spirit of prayer. Our human affections must not be put down, but put straight; they must not be kept under, but kept under con-trol. Controlled affection can be made to serve Christ's purposes; uncontrolled, our inclinations court disaster. What of Christ? His love was not jealous, mean, or petty; but magnanimous, and universal in its sweep. He did not shrink from self-denial in showing His love; He did not fear running the risk of others failing Him, as others did, like Judas,, Pilate, and the unknown "rich young man." All-embracing in its scope (although He too had His "special friends": John, Martha, Mary), His love went out to beggar and well-to-do, Pharisee and publican, virtuous and vicious. He showed no antipathy, no con-tempt towards any one of His creatures; there was nothing forced or spurious about His love, which was the perfect flowering of the all-holy purity of the Man-God. Our examen is, after all, the mirror we hold up to na-ture; a poor weak human nature,.no doubt, but one that all the more on that.account needs the mirror to reflect faithfully all its deficiencies. If we undertake this work more sincerely, more generously, in partnership with Christ, perhaps we shall find what we thought to be stumbling-blocks transformed by Him into ~stepping stones. Our examen will no longer have the dismal charac-ter of a solitary.visit to a desolate cemetery, but the hopeful quality of a pilgrimage with a Friend eager to help us. We may still discover dry bones aplenty on the face of the plain, but if faithfully we do our part, even of them also it may be said "I will give you spirit and you shall live." ~ Father A/dan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MARTIN A. STILLMOCK; C.SS.R. Two Century Masterpiece "Of all my spiritual works, I should call this' one the best." These are the words spoken by St. Alphdnsus Maria de Ligouri on July 24, 1760, about his book, The True S~ouse ol Jesus Christ. When we consider that of the ope hundred eleven books and pamphlets written by the saint sixty-four ar6 ascetical works, this statement commands attention. The book in question could hardly be given higher praise. To understand why St. Alphonstis made this' remarl~- able utterance, it will' be well to consider the background of this book. As a founder of a religi6us congregation of missionary priests, as a popular and skilled retreat ~aster, and later as a bishop, St. Alpho. nsus was deeply concerned that llis priests and all priests should be learned and holy. To help priests in the field of learning he wrote his famous Mm:al Theology. To help prie,sts in their spiritual life he wrote his well known Selva which treats of the dignity and duties of the priest. All Christians know that there is no salvation for the world except through Jesus Christ. Now the ordinary channel of the world's salvation is the priesthood whic.h Christ instituted. Hence it was that Alphonsus loved so much to preach to priests and seminarians. And hence also it was that he wrote for them. He knew that the sanctification of one priest could mean the saving of thousands of souls that perhaps otherwise would not be saved. Alphonsus know he could put weapons into the hands of priests: weapons of theological learning, sermon material, ~naterial for retreats, missions, novenas. He could give them food for spiritual thought by combing spiritual writers, especially the fathers of the Church, and presenting their writings and ideas in a popular and interesting way. He could point out to priests the road to sanctity and the ways and means to attain holiness. All these weapons as well as many more St. Alphonsus, following Catholic tra-dition, put into the hands of pastors and missionaries for converting the world to Jesus Christ. But to insure success, he thought it necessary to supplement these weapons by Martin A. Stillmock, C.Ss:R., is engaged in parish work at St. A1- phonsus Church, 1118 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 6, Mis-souri. ~OLUME 20, 1961 425 ÷ M. A. Stillmock, C.$s.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the prayers of all those who are consecrated to God by religious profession: In every day and age it has been difficult for people to understand the n~cessity and value of the contem-plative life. To mauy it seems a pious waste of time. The problem is that many of these people understand little or nothing of the communion of saints, even though they may believe in it as they profess in the Apostles' Creed. Consequently, they do not understand or even -begin to realize the value of intercessory prayer or suppli-cation. Why God created such an institution as the cloister and why He calls religious to lead lives of penance and pr.ayer is beyond them. But the saints understand the value of these" things; and Alphonsus, from long experience in working for the most. abandoned souls, realized fully how much priests and missionaries need the help of prayers for success in their priestly and missionary work. Whenever Alphonsus had a difficult mission before him, or when he knew strong resistance would be forthcoming from the great enemy of souls, he recommended himself to the prayers of ~:eligious who spend their lives in the presence of God. Alphonsus himself had founded an order of contem-pla'tive nuns, the Redemptoristines. For him they were the second branch of his apostolic congregation, the Redemptorists, While the missionaries were on the front battling [or souls whd were often deep in the clutches of the devil, these nuns raised their minds to "heave/i, like Moses on the mountain, and by 'their prayers and pen-ances obtained the victory. . It was thoughts such as these which impelled A1- phonsus to write The True'Spouse of Jesus Christ. In the volume he says to the religious souls for whom he is writing: You should be :useful to all, especially by yqur prayers. A!l the spouses of our Lord should be zealous for His honor. He Himself said to St. Teresa: "Now that you are My spouse, you must work with zeal for My glory." Indeed, if the souls so ~logely united to Jesus do not take His interests to heart, who will do so? Our Lord has promised to hear anyone who prays to Him. In your prayers, then, at your communions, during the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recommend to God all poor sinners, infidels, heretics~ and those Who live without God. And Alphonsus goes.on to say: Our Lord Himself asks this of His. special servants. He said to a venerable nun one day: "Help me by your prayers to save souls"; and to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi: "See, My daughter, how Christians are in the hands of the evil onel If My elect did not deliver them by their prayers, they would become the prey of that monster." This prompted the counsel which she gave to her religious: "My dear sisters, God has withdrawn, us from the world to save our own' souls, of course, but also that we may satisfy His mercy by interceding for sinners. We shall have to account for the loss of many souls if we neglect to recommend them to God." For this reason she never let an hour of the day go by without prayir[g /0r sinners. Another servant of our Lord did penance for forty years and applied it all to the salvation of souls in need of divine grace. Oh, how many sinners there are who owe their conversion not so much to the sermon of the preacher as to the prayers of some holy re-ligiousl It was revealed to a celebrated orator that the conversions apparently worked by him were not attributable to his elo-quence but to the prayers of the lay brother who sat at th~ foot of the pulpit. Pray then for sinners, and pray also for priests that they may work with true zeal for the salvation of souls. But if religious are to be powerful intercessors with our Lord, it can be only on condition that they be His true spouses. Therefore, just as he did for priests, A1- phonsus treats at length of the duties of religious women. While reading this book, weshould keep in mind that in the eighteenth century many abuses had crept into the cloister. The spirit-of the times breathed laxity, tepidity, and worldliness. A1phonsus was not one to use half meas-ures, and in many instances his language is strong. But his one big purpose is to preach holiness. He does this by pointing out what virtues should be specially practiced, and he prescribes, the means for wiping qut abuses. It may be thought that St. Alphonsus wrote Thk True Spouse solely for cloistered or contemplative nuns. He certainly had° thegn in :mind, but not exclusively. In his preface the saint himself tells us: This work, as appe.ars from the title, is intended particularly for nuns. However, only a small part of it is directed exclusively to them; the remainder, but especially what regards the ob-servance of the vows of religion, regular discipline, and the per-fection of the religious state, is equally suitedto religious of all congregations; and what regards the Christian virtues will be found highly useful even for seculars. What is to be found in The True Spouse? Practically every facet of the spiritual life is treated, The saint starts off his work by treating of the merits of virgins who have consecrated themselves to God. He goes on to state the advantages of the religious state and how religious should belong wholly to God. He speaks of the desire religious should have for perfection and then warns that imper-fect religious are exposed tb danger. The necessity of combating self love is treated. After treating of interior mortifications, the saint goes on to speak of exterior mortification of the appetite, of the senses of hearing and touch, and of the eyes. The book also contains a long treatise on poverty, its perfection, its degrees and practice, the detachment it involves from relatives and other persons. Closely allied to poverty is humility; the saint here discusses its ad-wmtages, the nature of humility of the intellect, heart, and will, and patience in bearifig contempt. ÷ ÷ ÷ Two Century Masterpiece VOLUME 20, 1961 4. M. d. Stillmo¢l¢, C.Ss.R. There is a beautiful chapter on fraternal charity, fol-lowed by one on patience, a virtue that leads to resig-nation to the will of God. Then follows a treatment of mental prayer, its necessity as well as its practice. From there the saint points out the importance and necessity of silence, solitude, and the presence of God. The topic of spiritual reading forms a chapter in itself. The True Spouse contains a long treatment on the frequentation of the sacraments of confession and com-munion. Under confession the saint has a consoling and practical treatise on scruples: what they are, how they are hurtful, their remedy and a practical application. Prayer and purity of intention form two more chapters. A work of this type would not be complete for St~ Alphonsus unless he devoted some space, to the Holy Mother of God. First, Alphonsus contends that no true servant of Mary can be lost; then he goes on to show who are to be considered true servants of Mary. Following the chapter on devotion to Mary is one on the love of Christ, the obligation of a religious to iove Him, and the means of acquiring this love. The saint concludes his work with particular admoni-tions for superiors, novice mistresses, and so on. In the last chapter he gives a rule of life for the religious who desires to become a saint. This includes the treatment of such things as the Divine Office, hearing of Mass, exami-nation of conscience, necessity of banishing melancholy, recreation. The True Spouse even has an appendix con-taining such considerations as a summary of the virtues which the religious who wishes to become a saint should practice, spiritual maxims for religious, and aspirations of love for Christ. Very few books written almost exclusively for religious women handle such a wide and practical range of treat-ment. As one German translator of The True Spouse observes: This book, written as it is with great fo~'ce and piety, contains the.q.uintessence of ascetic theology and is a practical ex-posmon of the virtues of the religious life. I have no hesitation in saying that the reader will find in it all that has been written by ancient and modern writers on the subject of spirituality. It sums up a multitude of books and gives all that the holy author has developed at greater length in other writings on the same matters. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 428 MARCEL MARCOTTE; S.J. Health and Holiness Father, it seems that for the majority of priests, a person suffering from neurosis is condemmed to stand in one spot marking time with no chance of advancing in the spiritual life. I take it that you are not of that opinion, and 1 am so glad. Your opinion confirms my own per-sonal experience and that ol others who have confided in me. When a person is unbalanced in some way, one at once thinks that there has been some frustration in the past of his emotional needs. In most cases this is true. But do not certain neuroses grow worse because of a conflict be-tween the profound need of God which we experience on the one hand and, on the other, the behavior we are led to persist in, sometimes, under the influence o[ the guidance we receive? It seems to me that the more aspir-ing and straightforward a soul is, the more woeful can be certain mistakes in spiritual direction. I think that there is a tendency among religious and priests to make too little of the needs of the soul. Spiritual writers teach clearly that in order to reach God, the soul must proceed by a series of purifications suited to its spiritual progress. But how many spiritual advisors grasp that when the time comes? They seem to think that this was written more for initiates in the spiritual life. But I think that such ideas could be carried over with great profit into many ordinary .lives. Don't you agree? IfI we sidestep debating certain merely incidental ele-ments in this letter so as to throw into relief its main point, the question it asks can be put thus: Does our sanctification depend on our psychological balance as well as, in some degree, on our bodily health and the sound condition of our nerves? Pascal, who was all his life a _very sick and anxiety-haunted man, declared that "ill, ness impairs the judgement and the senses . " "If great 1:This article is translated with permission from Relations, March, . 1961, pp. 64-66. The translation is by George Courtright. 4. 4. 4. Marcel Marcotte, S.J., teaches at the ColI~ge Sainte Marie, 1180 rue Bleury, Montreal 2, Canada. VOLUME 20, 1961 Mar~e! Mav¢otte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 illness," he says plainly, "visibly alters them, I have no doubt at all that minor illnesses have a proportionate fect." This opinion, dictated by the personal experience of a man of genius who was, also, in his own way, a kind of saint, ought doubtless to be kept in mind. How-ever, recent discoverie~ in psychology together with the teaching of experience and certain data of theology lead us to qualify it. Does our relationship with God really depend upon our physical and psychological formation, which, while in us, is, for all that, not us? Are we to be marked in ad-vance for sanctity or for spiritual mediocrity by reason of our temperament, i the condition of our endocrine glands, certain accidents of education, or traumas ex-perienced in the course of life which definitively open or close to us the approaches"to Christian perfect~ion? "The will of God," says St.Paul, "is ,that' you become saints." But is this divine will concerned only with people who have perfectly healthy and well-balanced bodies and minds? Does sanctity reser~b!e some sort of royal feast to which only a small number of chosen guests--great lords and noble ladies with impressive names--are to be in-vited, while the great mass of the faithful must be satis-fied with the crumbs of the banquet? This would be .a surprising and rather scandalous thing. God, in His giving, remains free, but when once He has granted, in baptism, the first, essential gift ("if you knew the gift of Godl" Jesus said to the Samaritan woman), then that spring of living water, which has just penetrated by grac~ into the Christian soul, must inexhaustibly "gush from his breast into eternal life." For the gift of God is nothing else but God Himself, from whom life pours out, diffuses itself, and irresistibly increases in the Christian so as to make him achieve his full height, his complete stature in Christ. S~ill, we must yield to the evidence: Not all Christians are saints--far from it--for indeed if God's gift is to produce its fruit of sanctity in the soul, the Christian must cooperate freely with the ~ace that is offered him. But the usual effects of original sin make this free co-operation very difficult for the normal Christian. Besides this, in many instances, the exercise of freedom is en-cumbered by" special difficulties which render infinitely more unpredictable the conformity of our acts in life to moral standards and the higher dem~inds of sanctity. "It is hard to practice Christian virtue," Alexis Carrel says, "when one suffers from a glandular deficiency." Edu-cators, judges,-moralists, and spiritual directors realize today how important a role the body plays in the origin and development of certain 'kinds of moral, social, and spiritual weaknesses. Chrtesian dualism no longer has currency; we have learned to, recognize ;and admit the. reciprocal influence of the body and the soul~ on .the physical and mental health of human beings. Psycho-somatic medicine, for its 'part, is ready to take into ac-count complications on the physical and bodily level arising from the psychic; why should not .Catholic moral-ity and spiritual teaching,, in turn, take into account the, repercussion of sick organs and nerves upon the interior, psychic life? "Man," says Pascal again, '~is neither angel nor beast, and ill luck would have it that he who would play the angel plays the beast."-" Furthermore, physical health: is not alohe concerned here. Depth psychology has shown (doubtless to the. point;, of sa.t.iety) that the evolution of a religious and moral personality, is linked to the dynhmic'drives of ifiapulses and tendencies of instinct, and emotion which we carry along with us from earliest infancy to adult life. Ac-cording as the liquidation of ce.rtain psychi~ conflicts has been more or less successful, habit~ and moral or spirit-ual attitudes assume very different characters. In certain instances, repression and sublimation will facilitate ,the practice of virtue and thai.pursuit'of sanctity; in others, they will make virtue and holiness, at least in appearance, very difficult or even altogether impossible. Therefore, in the quest for God, the-Christian must not only adapt himself to his nature as he finds it, but, in ad-dition, undergo to a degree very difficult to estimate the inbuilt necessities springing from the past. Why seek to deny it? There are ill-favored creatures who, so far from being naturally equipped to live a truly spiritual life, are not even fit to live a life in accordance with common morality. They will never be so thoroughly good as they might otherwise be simply for lack of discipline and con-tr61 aiid will drag along through weakness after weakness t6'~the end of their lives. Their sense of judgement is warped, their wills debilitated: how can they aspire to personal holiness? Yet, is sanctification to be made de-pendent on the chance that on~ has or has not a healthy hormone balance, or that one is blest in one's psycho-logical makeup or has been guccessfully educated? Some-times, it takes so little (a thyroid'deficiency, the awkward or rough meddling of a teacher) to change the course of one's life. "If Cleopatra's nose had been shorter . " Is the longing of a Christian for sanctity to be similarly sub-ject to accident, to that "grain of sand in the ureter" which, according to Pascal, upset the, Whole map of Europe? To avoid so scandalous a notion, we must first take care to have a right idea of the meaning of sanctification. We must not'confuse it with the attainment of purely human perfection or even~ with the moral perfection Health and Holiness VOLUME 201 1961 43! ÷ ÷ ÷ Marcel Marcotte, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 which makes saints so attractive. In essence, sanctification is the act by which God divinizes man. This action occurs in the spiritual order, an order the harmonies of which are not necessarily echoed in the outward behavior and visible appearance of the man God has sanctified. In re-lation to this action, one's psychological makeup is of no importance. Whether a man be endowed with a nature favorable to the acquiring of virtue or is a neurotic ob-sessed by the flesh or by guilt or scruples, it is enough for him to say "Yes" to God, to cling to Him in his soul of souls, beyond all temptation, all childish fear, in order to be swathed in divine grace and himself made divine. On this point, Saint Francis de Sales says: It is beyond question true that our souls ordinarily take on something of the traits and tone of our bodily lower nature . A body weakened and distracted by much pain cannot but in-hibit the vigor and spontaneity of the soul in its performances. But nothing of this is in anyway prejudicial to the spiritual actions of the soul. As pleasing to God as such actions can be when done among all tlie pleasures of the world, they are even more so when done with greater trouble and pain . We must not be unjust to ourselves and demand more of our-selves than we can do. When our bodies and our health give us trouble, we must, at such a time, expect of the soul only acts of submission and resignation and that holy union of ou~' wills with the good pleasure of God, which is formed in the highest reaches of the soul. As for our outward actions, we must direct and perform them as best we can and be conr tent therewith, though our hearts mislike it and the going be slow and heavy. Nevertheless, the fac( remains that sanctity, in the usual sense of the word, requires certain conditions, which are not given to everyone. For example, an idiot finds himself, as such, incapable of that renunciation of sin and of that assent to grace which are essential ,in the spiritual life. Just as a certain healthiness of the nervous system is needed before the moral consciousness can un-fold, So, too, in the order of sanctity, a certain psychologi-cal healthiness is necessary before that love, thanks to which one renounces sin in order to give oneself utterly to God, can unfold. In what does this healthiness consist, without which sanctity becomes impossible~not that sanctity which exists in the hidden mystery, of the sou! but the sanctity we find in the faces, in the words and the actions of those whom we call saints? There are certain characteristics, certain somatic and psychological qualifications which are necessary so that the fruit Of divine grace .may grow and show itself in the form of Christian virtues: for ex-ample, mildness, temperance, purity, brotherly love. If there are serious deficiencies in one's makeup, the soul will struggle vainly to remain faithful; all its efforts, at least in appearance, will remain useless. True, in the eyes of God, "who searches the reins and the heart," all these struggles, endlessly abandoned and endlessly lost, will have contributed to the sanctification of the soul. But for the bystander, and often for the soul itself, hypnotized by its own weakness, this mystei~ious but real sanctifica-tion will never be verified. It will not even be verifiable. It may even happen that priests and experienced spiritual directors will fail to recognize the value and the merit of these hard-fought spiritual battles which always end in a checkmate. But such a lack of understanding--wit-ness the lives of the saints---often forms a part of the means God uses for the spiritual progress of souls. It is a kind of night added to that night in which souls struggle only to make the darkness darker and faith more meri-torious. Yet, the darker the night, the nearer, the more lovely the stars. "Close your eyes, and you will seel ." God has a way all His own of dealing with the emptiness surrounding the soul. It is at the moment when He ap-pears to be forevermore far away that He is often closest. "If you had already found Me," God says to Pascal, "you would not look for Me." The important thing, then, is the search for God, the effort, as the accepted phrase is, toward sanctity while trying evermore in one's life to accept the divine will, even when that will rules that we make our way toward God stumblingly, foundering in the earth like plough-oxen, we who were made to fly high in the heavens like eagles. There are two kinds of saints, says Father Beirnaert. There are the saints with ill-favored and difficult personalities, that mass of people ridden with anxiety, aggressiveness, and love of the body, all those who bear the intolerable weight of having been born as they were, those whose blighted hearts will al-ways be nothing but a knot of snakes, unlucky because they were born with repulsive faces, or because they have never been able to identify themselves with a father. They are those who, unlike St. Francis, will never in their lives charm a bird or pet a wolf of Gubbio; those who sin and will sin again; who will grieve till the day they die, not because they lost their temper a little but because they keep on committing the same filthy, unmentionable action. They are that vast crowd whose sanctity will never shine out in this world through their personalities, who will rise up only on the last day to glitter, finally, in eternity. They are saints without the honor of the name. At their side are the saints blest with attractive personalities, the pure, strong, sweet saints, the model saints, the canonized saints and the saints fit to be canonized, saints with hearts as free and wide as the seasho~'e; saints whose being, like a per-fectly tuned harp, forever sings out the glory of God; wonderful saints, who encourage the advances of grace and in whom we touch a grace-transfigured nature--the recognized, the cele-brated, the great saints, who trail a shining splendor through history. Both kinds of saints are brothers. Those saints whose per- 4- 4- 4- l;ealth and Holiness VOLUME 20, 1961 sonalities are haunted by m'onsters and those in whom angels dwell have the same basic experience, and they speak Of God and of themselves in the same words. They are of the same bourn, the same world; a world where the only grief is to find oneseff so unworthy of God, and the only happinesg is to be loved by Him and to try to give Him love for love. For us, here below, they are different. Before God, they are alike. And we shall see this in the day of the Lord Jesus (Etudes, t. 266, pp. 63-64). Once more, pure holiness can and sometimes must adapt itself to certain bodily and psychological states which will give their stamp to the outward aspect and ac, tions of a Christian, without, for all that, compromising his inner adherence to the divine will and, therefore, without hurting the life of charity in him. "In the evening of'life," says St. John of the Cross, "we shall be judged~on our love." For each and all of us, it is simply a question of love and, therefore, of choosing, according to the meas-ure of freedom that has been given us, between good and bad, between the perfect and the imperfect. In propor-tion to this, God Himself comes to meet us so as to share His life more intimately with us, before finally, bringing us into His beatitude. ÷ ÷ .÷ Marcel Marcotte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 434 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M., ' ' The ,Superior's Predept and God S Will One of the first pro~ositions a.tyro meets in a religious novitiate ,is one to the~effect that a '~superior's directive is "an expression of God's wilV' for .him': If'a religious wishes to know what God' desires of him,~ he need only listen to;accept, and execute the~precepts of his superior. Unfortunately, this early lesson'-'is subject to ambiguity and confusion. And more unfortunately, it can happen that the novice may embrace for life an incorrect interpre-tation of the~,ambiguity or he may simply, practice reli-gious obedience in a pekdffring cloud ofmisunderstand-ing. Does a superior "manifest,God's will" to a subject? If. he does, what does the expression mean? If he does not, ought we to modify our instruction°on this facet of obe-dience? Before attempting an immediate answer to" these, ques-tions, I should like to ask the reader to consider'a philo-sophical and theological antecedent; namely, the problem of how a man can conform his will to the divine will. A conference or retreat master ,can easily advise his listeners to conform their wills to the will of God, but to what ex-tent this conformity is possible and how itls to be achieved is not at all so simple as might appear on the surface. And-, yet a mature and accurate understanding of religious obe-dience would seem to require that we delve beneath the surface and discover~ what-precisely~ we are doing when we obey. For the attainment of this understanding we can follow no better guide than St. Thomas Aquinas. To tinderstand the Angelic Doctbr's doctrine on the precise °fiaanner in which a man is bound to conform his will to the divine will, we must, as Thomas does, dis-tinguish betweeh what may be called a material and a formal conformity.1 In an act of willifig we notice that there are two elements involved: the thing willed and the 1 Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10~, c. ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay,. S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 motive for willing it. Willing an act of kindness, for ex-ample, implies first of all, the sundry components of the benign deed, and, secondly, the motive or reason for willing that deed. The activity willed (here, the kind deed) is called the material element, while the motive or the reason~why (for example, love for God) is the formal element. It can happen that even when they will opposite real-ities two created wills can be good provided their- motives are good. St. Thomas uses the example of ttie execution of a thief. The judge wills his death, whereas the thief's wife does not will it. The wills are opposed as regards the material element, the fact of the executiori; but they can both be good provided the judge wills the death for a good reason (thecommon welfare) and the wife opposes that death for some evil consequent on it (for example, harm to her family). Because the judge has care for a more universal good, the community, and the wife for a less universal one, her family, both can will opposites and yet be good as long as their reasons are worthy. The° reader will understand that we .are not suggesting that any action at all may become morally good merely by the presence of a good motive. A man may not stem five dollars in order to buy his wife an anniversary gift. We are simply stating that two wills can at times be opposed regarding one action and yet both be willing rightly. We are now in a position to apply this principle to our problem of conformity to God's will. As St. Thomas points out, God as the Maker and Governor of the whole universe knows and wills .whatever He wills under the aspect of the universal good, which is His very goodness. A created will, on the other hand, knows some particular good and sometimes wills it for some reason that is good on a particular scale but not good from the point of view of, the more universal. For example, the avoidance of a spanking is a good from the particular or limited aspect of a child's physical well being, but itsoadministration may be better from the universal and wider aspect of his whole welfare and that of the family. In orde~ for a man to Will well some particular good he must refer it somehow, to the universal good; that is, to God. This referral, this motivation to the last end is the formal element in willing and must be present in a volitional act in order for that act to be rightly ordered. A man, therefore, conforms0his will to the divine will when he refers all that he does to God, since God Himself refers all to His own glory. This is a formal conformity and must always be present in a human act. A man, how-ever, need not and cannot always materially conform his will to the divine will as regards particular acts. It is sufficient that those particular acts be good in themselves and be referred to God, for in so acting man is operating as God wants him to operate~ even though God may not actually will this or that particular act. Hence, a material conformity to the divine will is ,not always required or even possible. Why do we say that a material Conformity to God's will is not always required or even possible? The reason is simple~ We often do not know what God wills as re-gards particular acts. We surely know that He wills us to do all for His sake, but that is a formal conformity, the ordering of all to Him. On.the other hand,.we~frequently do not know whether He .prefers.us to do on~ thing rather than another. I know He wants me'to tell-the truth when I am rightly questioned, but I do not know with certitude whether in ten minutes I should still be writing or visit-ing the BlesSed Sacrament. I know He wants me to obey canon law and my religious rule/but I may not know whe!her He really desires that I make~ tfii.s or that ex-cepaon to them. What ought I to do in these cases? I shbuld use my reason, follow the principles~of.sound ~asceticai theolggy, and exercise the virtue of supernatural prudence. God undoubtedly wiils that I do these latter, but the fact re-mains that once I have made my decision there may or may~ not be a material confOrmity between my will and His. Such,' however, is quite a Satisfactory situation pro-vided that what I do is good and is ordered to Him. In other words, material .conformity may' be lacking, but formal conformity may not. , ~pp!ication to Religious Obediencei: Can we, then, say that a religious Superior manifests tile will of God when he gives' a directive to his subjects? Surely, if the superior merely reiterates a precept of the natural or divine laws, he is indicating the divine will, but he is hardly manifesting it. ,That will is usually al-ready manifested to the subject, 'remotely by human tea, son or supernatural revelation, and proximately by in-struction he has received. As regards other matters (and they are commonly practical on~s) the superior cannot be said tO manifest the divine intention for the obvious rea-son that he does not know what the divine intention' is. If Father Superior tells Father Jones to suspend convert instruction classes during the summer, he is not neces, sarily manifesting God's will to Father Jones. Short of a private revelation Father Superior cannot know with certitude whether God really desires that suspension or not. All he can °do is.Use his experience, reason, and supernatural prudence in coming to a,decision and then hope he is doing what God wants. When Mother Pro-vincial assigns Sister Alice to teaching rather than to ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 437 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS nursing, Mother is not necessarily declaring the divine mind, because God may actually know that Sister Alice is better fitted to be a'nurse. I would say, then, that, simply speakin.g, a religious superior does not manifest God's will when he issues a command. In an improper sense, however, the superior may be said to manifest God's willAn his precept insofar as God wishes the subject to carry~ out what His representative has commanded. While it is true-that the fulfillment of this command is willed by God, yet the command itself does not properly manifest'anything but the superior's intention. I think it would be re.ore correct to say that by his precept a superior gives his subject the opportunity to do God's will, that is, to obey. It would seem wise, therefore, not to use this.expr~ession in an improper sense because it is misleading and confusi.ng. There-is no mani-festation of what we may call the content of God's will. By his obedience, then,, a religious conforms his will formally to the divine will when he orders his obedience to the divine glory through the virtue of charity. There is, secondly, a material conformity insofar as God wills this precept to, be carried out. There may or may not be, thirdly, a material conformity as regards the content of the precept. The reader will notice that our whole position on the superior's inability to manifest with certitude the con-tent of the ~livine will rests on his ignorance of that will. Hgw can~we establish that ignorance? Really, it needs no establishing because it is obvious on a moment's" reflec-tion. St. Thomas himself saw no difficulty about the matter. "Although we cai~not know a proper end, we can know the ultimate end from whom issues all the goodness found in proximate ends, so t.hat we may direct all we do to God, who made all things for Himself."z "The just on earth, whose will clings to the divine goodness, and yet do not so perfectly contemplate it (as the blessed do) that they clearly see the ordering ofoevery actiop to it, are conformed to the divine will as regards thos_e things whose character th~ey perceive . ,,s The Saint's last remark is most clear: "In particulars we do not know what God wills, and a~s regards.these we are not bound to conform our will to the divine will.''4 ~ St. Thomas readily admits our ignorance of the divine will in many details of human life, the proximate ends as he calls them. We need. only apply his thought to reli-gious obedience and _we have the basis on which our above explanation rests. But can a superior because of his sharing in the divine 1 Sententiae, d. 48, q. l, a. 3, ad 6; see also article 4. De veritate, q. 23, a. 8, c. Summa thkologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10, ad I. ruling authority somehow claim to set forth what we have called the content of the divine will? I think not. No man, be he superior, equal, or inferior, can rightly claim to manifest the mind of God unless God in some way re-veals His mind and ratifies, the claim. God's mind is God and~He is unsearchable. Hence, if a mere man may be said to make known God's mind or His will, that man must have some divine-assurance that such is the case. Does the religious superior have this assurance when he directs his subordinates in the observance of their vows and constitutions? The teaching Church, the Roman~ Pontiff and the bishops in union with him, certainly enjoy this assurance when they intend tobind in their authentic teaching (See Mt 16: 16"19; 18: 18; Lk 10: 16; Jn 20:21).~But does a re-ligious superior as such share in these divine commissions in any way that would permit him to claim that he, too, reflects the .divine will in 'his decisions? We ~may note, first of all, that on the one hand a religious superior, qua : talis, does not possess any special teaching authority in : the Church. On the other, Plus XII made it clear that the i ruling power of ~'eligious superiors is,;a participation in the divinely received ruling power of the Supreme Pontiff ~ himself. Speaking to.the superiors general of orders and .~ to other religious superiors, the Holy Father remarked -" thgt "you have been appointed tO a certain participation " in Our apostolic office," and then enlarged his thought: "Thus in this,.part of Our office, most beloved sons, delegating to you some of Our supreme jurisdiction, either directly by the code of canon law or by your insti-tutes and their rules approved by Us, and setting the foundations of your power which is called 'dominative,' We have assumed you as sharers in Our supreme office. Hence, it is that We are .very much concerned that you exercise your authority according to Our mind and that of the Church.'5 Does this participation in the apostolic governing power give a religious superior some capability to manifest God's will? To answer this last question we must distinguish be tween a mere ruling power and a teaching pbwer. Even the Church herself~, does not claim infallibility in as, pects of her universal laws unconnected with doctrine, and therefore, she does not claim in them to bg represent-ing what we have been terming the content of the divine mind. In setting twenty-four years as the minimum age for the reception of the priesthood even the Holy See would not'claim that it knows the content of the divine mind on that question. While God may conceivably prefer some other age limitation, yet it is His will that 6 Translated from L'osservatore romano, February 12, 1958, p. I. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior'$ Precepg VOLUME 20, 1961 439 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 bishops obey the Church's actual determination of twenty-four years. If the hierarchy itself, divinely endowed with a right to govern men to eternal life, cannot at times be sure that its laws express exactly the divine preference, it can come as a surprise to no one that we deny any such certainly to a religious superior who merely participates in the Church's ruling authority on a delegated basis. When a provincial superior of religious men appoints a priest to the mission band or when a local superior of religious women directs a sister to wax the floors on Saturday morning, it is not objectively sure that the priest is best suited for mission work or that the sister ought not rather be doing background reading in her teaching field. Yet it remains true that both the priest and the sister may be sure that God wills them to give missions and wax the floors respectively. While the two superiors may not6 have manifested the content'of the divine will, both of them have issued directives that God, as a matter of fact, wants implemented by two religious who have received two specific precepts. Even though the religious superior does rule through a participation in a divinely-given governing authority, he has nonetheless received no divine assurance that his commands are always going to conform to the objective truth of things. The subject, then, sees God in his supe-rior not in the sense that the superior's word must be taken as God's own word, but only in the sense that the superior's command is .given by one who has God's authority to give it. The distinction is important. On the one hand it obviates the untenable conclusion that a re-ligious superior is immune from error in his decisions as superior, and on the other it preserves the necessary postulate that a superior's precept is given on no mere human basis. In view of what we have said one could hardly miss the conclusion that a religious superior ought to weigh carefully the directives he gives. Even though it would be unreasonable to expect him to be objectively right in each of his decisions, yet he should make every effort consonant with the gravity of the matter.to be objectively right. Because he rules with a divinely authorized delega-tion, he should take care that his directives be as closely in accord with the divine intentions as possible. Reli-gious government by whim, directives issued by worldly prudence, commands based on favoritism, prejudice, or misinformation are wholly unbecoming in men and women who rule in such wise that their precepts some-e Our use of the word "may" indicates naturally enough that the two superiors may, as a matter of fact, be indicating the content of the divine will. "May not" suggests also "may." how flow from a divine authorizati+n. Traits of the good superior, then, most assuredly include supernatural pru-dence, a personal selflessness, and a willingness to take and follow counsel. We must note correlatively~that what we have said in this article does not absolve a subject from a perfect obedience to his superior. The fact that God may not "agree" that the decision contained in a particular com-mand is the wisest of all choices does not mean that the subject does well in refusing an obedience of execution, will, and intellect (the last, insofar as it is possible). In other words, our discussion is meant to clarify, not to damage the perfection of our obedience. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 44! R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.], REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS In this article those documents will be summarized wliich appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis during June and July, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (v. 53). A New Encyclical On May 15, 1961 (pp. 401-64), Pope John XXIII is-sued a new encyclical, Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), to commemorate the seventieth anniversary of Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on social matters, Rerum Novarum. In the introduction to his encyclical, the Pope observed that just as Christ, though primarily interested in the spiritual welfare of men, was also concerned with their material welfare, so also the Church takes care of the spiritual good of men without neglecting their ma-terial, economic, and cultural needs. Passing to the first of the four parts into which the encyclical is divided, His Holiness sketched the evils of the economic and social situation of the nineteenth cen-tury, evils which occasioned Rerum Novarum. The Holy Father then listed the chief principles of Catholic social doctrine as laid down by Leo XIII and as afterwards en-larged and amplified by Pius XI and Pius XII. In the second part of Mater et Magistra, the Vicar of Christ took up and developed certain points of the teach-ing found in Leo XIII's document. While the economic order/ he pointed out, is the. creation of the personal initiative of private citizens, still the State must see to it that economic development benefits all the citizens. This, however, must be done in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity enunciated by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno, a principle which protects the personal initiative of individual persons. In this connection the Pontiff con-sidered the matter of modern economic and social plan-ning which involves public authorities in matters as crucial as the care of health or the controlling of pro-fessional careers: Such planning, he remarked, brings many advantages and satisfies many personal rights;, how-ever, it also makes juridical control of hurfian relations more detailed and creates an atmosphere which makes initiative and responsibility difficult. Hence, such plan-ning should be realized in such a way as to draw from it all its advantages and to remove or restrain its disadvan-tages. ¯ .," Pope John then turned to consider the question of "the remuneration to be given to workers. ~AI1 workers, he af-firmed, should be given a wage that:allows them to live a truly human, life and to face with dignity their family responsibilities. Other factors;~.however; must alsb be considered: the worker's effective contribution to produc-tion, the economic state of the enterprise, ~he require-ments of the common good,both of the country and of the entire world~ " The economic'wealth of a people,., the Pontiff went on to say, must not be judged merely.by, its total aggregate wealth, bht also by its efficacious distributidn~throughout the entire populace. One of the most desirable ways of achieving this distribution~ is to permit th~ w6~kers to participate in the ownership of the enterprise. One last necessity for a just economic system was,underscored by the P6pe'when he obseiwe6that~if the structure of an economic system is suEh~that it compromises human dig-nity by systeinatically removing a" sense of-responsibility and of initiative in the 'worker, then .the system is un-just, even though through it riches are accumulated and distributed according to the rules of justice and equity. Hence the continuing importance today of artisan and co-operative enterprises. And in large enterprises, workers should have an active part, the enterprise becoming a real community with relations between employer and employee marked by mutual appreciation, understand-ing, and co-operation and by a mutual,grasp, of,:th~ en-terprise not,merely as a source of income but,,as the ful-fillment of a duty and°the rendering of a service.:~Workers, he.said, should not be reduced to being merely execu'tors of work, entirely passive in regard to decisions that regu-late their activity. Here the Pope stressed the desirability of associations of workers and the need that the influence of workers'should be extended beyond the limits of~their individual productive units. The Holy Father turned next to the matter of. private property, observing that the modern growth of the dis-~- tinction between the ownership of capital and the man: agement of the larger economic entities, the increase of social insurance and security, and the greater confidence in income and rights from, labor,rather'than from capital ÷ ÷ ÷ Roman, Documen~ VOLUME ;'0, ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 444 do not diminish the natural right of private ownership. This right, he said, is fouflded on the priority of individ-ual human beings as compared with society,,is necessary for free and personal initiative in the economic field, and prevents the stifling of freedom. Not only must the right to private property be recognized; equally neces-sary is the recognition of the natural right of its effective distribution among all social classes; added to this must be the acknowledgement that a social function is intrinsi-call~ linked with the right, of private property, for the goods of the earth have been destined by God for the worthy support of. all human beings. In the third part of the encyclical, Pope John took up a consideration of new socio-economic problems that face the modern world. First among these is the extensive exo-dus of farm populations to urban centers. While many reasons lie behind this exodus, the Pope pointed out that among these reasons is the fact that the farm sector lags behind other sectors, in productivity of labor and in living standards. Hence public authorities should see that essential services (education, roads, utilities, and so forth) in the country are suitably developed. Improved produc-tion methods and selective agriculture should be encour-aged. In the assessment of taxes, it should be remembered that in ,farming returns come slowly and are exposed to greater risks; the same considerations should lead to a special credit policy for farmers. Social security and in-surance systems should not give farmers allowances sub-stantially lower than those granted to industrial and other' sectors; there should be an effective system to protect farm prices. At the same time, rural workers should keep in mind the rights and interests of other types of workers as well as those of the common good. They should con-ceive their work both as a vocation and as a mission, as a call ~from God and as a contribution to human civili-zation, The Holy Father next took up the matter of relations between developed and underdeveloped countries. Hu-man solidarity as. well as the doctrine of the Mystical Body forbids that political communities with abundant resources remain indifferent tO the misery and hunger of underdeveloped-areas. Countries with an excess of consumer goods, especially farm products,, should give emergency, aid to the indigent and needy of other coun-tries. This, however, should be ,accompanied by scientific, technical, and financial help to remove the causes of *underde~elopment. In the execution of this aid, social progress should grow simultaneously With economic progress, the native characteristics of the country should be respected, and political interestedness--another name [or colonialism--should be avoided. In giving such aid, it should always be remembered that technology, economic development, and material well-being are and must re-main secondary to spii~itual values. At this point the Pontiff showed how the entrance of the Church into a country has always restilted in social and econbfiaic better-ment. With regard to the problem of the increase in popula-tion and the sufficiency of mea'ns of sustenance, the Vicar of Chi'ist remarked that in a view of the world as a whole there does°not seem tobe at least for the moment and the near future a great difficulty. In any.case ~here is no need for solutions such as birth control which offend the moral order established by God. Even in individual countries and regions where there is an actual dispib'- portion between population arid means of sustenance, such means can not be used. The true solution is to be found only in economic development and in social prog-ress brought about in a moral atmosphere. "A provident God," he stated, "grants sufficient means to the human race to solve in dignified fashion even .the many and del-icate problems attendant upon the transmission of life." The last of the problems to be considered by the Pope was that of world co-operation. All problems of any importance, he began, present today supranational and often world dimensions. Hence the different political -communities can not solve such problems on their own and by themselves; accordingly there is a need for mutual °understanding; such understanding, however, is pre-vented today because of the mistrust and fear among nations. This mistrust exists because some political leaders do not recognize the existence of a moral order that is based or/ God. And without God, c6ncluded the Pontiff, science and technology are powerless to con-struct a civilization. In the fourth and last part of the encyclical, the Pope insisted that whatever technical and economic progress there may be, there will be neither justice nor peace in the world until men return to a sense of their dignity as creatures and sons-of God. This is why the Church is a herald of a way of life that is ever modern. From .her doctrine of the sacred dignity of the individual, she has drawn a social teaching that takes into consideration the realities of human nature, the various dimensions of the temporal order, and the characteristics of contem-porary society. This social teaching, he said, is an integral part of the Christian conception of li~[e and should be known, spread, and put into observance by all Catholics. The executibn of this doctrine will be the work especially of the laity whom, in the concluding sections of the en-cyclical, the Pontiff urges to remain close to. the doctrine of Christ and His Church. ÷ 4- 4- Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 445 R. F. Smith~ S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU, S 446 Miscellaneous° Documents O~a July 22, 1960 (pp. 3~1-43)~ Pope John" issued an apostoli~ constitution dstablishing an exarchate foi: Ukranians of the Byzantine Ri~e living in .France. The see of the exarch will be in Pari~ and~he will be a ~uffr~igan of the archbishop of Paris; the power of the exarch will be exercised cumulatively with that of the loc'al ordinaries of France. On the sameday (pp. 343-44) a similar exarch-ate was estabhshed for those of the Armeman Rxte hwng in France. On April 23, 1961 (pp. 314-18), Hi~ Holines~ spoke to members of various Oriental rites, exl~ressing his admiration for the grandeu~ of Eastern Christianity and the hope that it will find'in the Pope "the sweetness of David and the wisdom of Solomon." On Pentecost, May 21, 1961 (pp. 358-62), His Holiness delivered an al-locution after he had consecrated fourteen mi.ssionary bishops from Africa, America, and Asia. He told his listeners tha t the. riew bishops w.ere the flowers of the new churches of Africa and Asia,~urged the new bishops to study the cultures and histories of their peoples and to work and firay that these be~b'enefited by the redemotion, and re'~all'ed the centenary of the dea'th of Bish~)p de Mazenod, founder of the Oblates 9f Mar~ Immaculate, one o~ the gre.at nanies in the modern renaissance of mission.activity. On November 24, 1960 (pp. 346-'50), the Holy Father'issued an apostolic c6nstitution establishing the hi.erarchy in Vietnam- with a division into three ecclesiastical provinces. On May 27, 1961 (p. 388.),. the Sacred .Cong~egation'bf Rites issued a declaration according to _which a ferial of the fourth class i~ never to be commemorated in a festive or votive Mass,. even though it be a conventual,, one. Accordingly~the f611owing numbers of the new code of rubrics are to ~be modified to read: N.-26. All ferials not mentioned in Nos. 23-25 are ferials of the fourth class; these ar~never commemorated. N.-289_. [At the beginning] On all'ferials of the fourth clasS . there may be said without a commemoration of the ferial. N. 299. [Second part] On bther ferials the Mass of the pre-cedin~ Sunday is said unless the rubrics provide otherwise. On May q l, 1961, the Feast of the Ascension (pp. 289- 95), Pope John XXIII solemnly canonized Blessed Mary Bertilla Boscardin'(1888-1922), virgin, of the School Sisters of St. Dorothy, Daughters of the Sacred Hearts. Her feast day is to be kept on October-22. In the hom.ily after the canonization, the Holy Father pointed out that the new saint is a l~sson to the~great and wise of this world, for she achieved greatness through humility and ,heroism through hidden sacrifice. He also stated that her sanctity was founded on her family where she learned the secret of constancy, on her catechism which taught her true wisdom, and on her religious vocation which allowed her to give herself entirely to God and to her neighbor. On April 26, 1961 (pp. 381-85), the Sacred Congregation of Rites affirmed the heroic virtue ol~ the venerable Servant of God, Leonard Murialdo (1828-1900), professed priest and founder of the Pious Society of St. Joseph. On'the same day (pp. 385-88), the congregation also affirmed the heroic virtue o1: the venerable Servant of God, Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), ~oundress of the Sacramentine Sisters. ~ On April 21, 1961 (pp. 308-14), the Holy Father ad-dressed the First National Italian Congress for Ecclesiasti-cal Vocations. He laid great stress on the influence of priests on vocations, the importance of seminaries for the developing of the human and Christian virtues of future priests, and the need to labor with discretion and zeal for the increase of vocations. On M~rch 25, 1,961 (pp. 371-80), the Sacred Congregation of Religious issued an instruction and statutes to govern extern sisters of monasteries of nun

Issue 13.5 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1954 Study and the Spiritual Life . John R. Post The World Around Us . John H. Ziegler Pilgrims on theRoad to Love . George Byrne Secular Institutes . Francls N. Korfh Book Reviews Questions and Answers Quinquennial Report VOLUMI~ XIII NUMBER 5 RI::VII::W FOR RI:LI IOUS VOLUME XIII SEPTEMBER, 1954 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS BLENDING STUDY WITH THE SPIRITUAL LIFE--John R. Post, S.d. 225 OUR ADDRESSES . 233 THE WORLD AROUND US--John H. Ziegler, C.S.P . 234 COMMUNICATIONS . 239 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 240 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVE--George Byrne, S.J .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 244 SECULAR INSTITUTES: SOME QUESTIONS--Francis N. Korth, S.2J.45 PAMPHLETS . , . . . 250 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 250 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT (By Nonfederated Autonomous Houses and Monhsterles) . 251 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS .2.6.9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Little Office during Mass . 270 27. Confession without Verbal Act of Contrition . 270 28. Drinking Water before Communion . 271 29. Confession before Communion . 271 30. Communion when Mortal Sin is Doubtful . 272 BOOK REVIEWS-- The N~w Testament; The Church and Infallibility; Mary in Our Life . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 278 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 5. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,lannary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. E!lard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. / Blending St:udy wit:h t:he Spiri!:ual Lit:e John R. Post, S.J. MANY young religious who are preparing for the priesthood must spend eigh~ or ten years in the quiet of a seminary be-fore they are confronted with actual work for souls. During that time they look forward with great eagerness to a busy minis-try; but when it comes, it often comes with something of a shock to their interior life. Why is this? The answer seems to be that now for the first time they have had to face up to the age-old problem of blending the active with the contemplative life. A certain amount of shock from this problem is inevitable, as it is in every new ex-perience to be worked out by themselves; but some help can be given them to soften the shock if during their seminary days they are taught to solve another problem, or rather, the same problem on a smaller scale, namely, how to blend the life of study with the spir-itual life. One young student, for instance, finds himself in this frame of mifid: in the morning he offers up to God all his p~ayers, works (studies included), and sufferings, and then is content if during the day he can keep his life of study from interfering with his life of prayer. The most he asks is that study and prayer just keep running in parallel lanes like two runners on a track. Another sees the pursiait of knowledge as a help to perfection, and'so, being a sensible religious, he determines to make the two desires fuse or blend into one organic whole. With him the life of study and the life of prayer, while really distifict, penetrate and help each other just as the soul does the body. T, he second theory will be explained in this article, which, though tailored to suit the'cleric, can, it is hoped, with a tuck and a hem be made to fit the student sister and brother as well. As with the problem of the active ministry, sb too here, the so-lution lies in the interpenetration of motives. In the years of for-mation the young men must learn two things: first, to study their Latin and Greek, their philosophy and theology, with an earnest intention of progressing in the service of God; then, to pray with an ardent desire to advance in the studies in which they are engaged. For, although the time set aside for spiritual duties is generally dis- 225 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious tinct from that given to studies, still the service of God should be made the predominant and actual motive in both. The theory, then, can be summed up in two phrases of St. Ignatius: "Let [scho-lastics] strive to have a right intention in their studies".and. "in their prayers let them frequently beg for the grace of knowl-edge." That is the theory, but some eager student might ask: "How in practice would you go about preparing an assignment in G~:eek or theology and at the same time maintain this right intention? In other words, tell us how each particular branch of our studies can be made.to help our spiritual lives and how our spiritual lives can at the same time help our studies." This is a rather large order, but let me try to fill it. To begin with, then, in practice a man blends his studies with his spiritual life simply by choosing a virtuous intention to keep working in class or at his desk. Seize upon some honest motive or motives from the many that are available, let those motives draw your mind into the heart of the matter and keep it there, and they will turn that hour of class or study into an hour of obedience, of zeal for souls, or of any other virtue. Some motives, it is true, are higher and more meritorious than others; some are more effective in stimulating the desire to learn; but every intention, provided it be virtuous and supernatural, is a "right intention" in the sense in which spiritual writers use the expression. And this leads to the consideration of a most fundamental and essential virtue in the whole life of study--the virtue of studiositas. St. Thomas, who ought to know, defines studiositas, or zeal for knowledge, as a moral virtue which stimulates and controls a man's curiosity. According to him a student, to be a student at all, must be curious. He must come to his books hungry to learn, with a hun-dred questions in his mind begging to be answered. "How did Cicero and St. 3erome express a concessive clause in Latin? What is that slight difference in meaning between quarnquarn and quarnois? I wonder how this particular clause in English would look dressed up in perfect Latin idiom." And so on and so on. These are the questions real students of Latin ask themselves, ask their books and the teachers because they want to know. It is studiositas, then, that makes the life of sudy. Other higher and more supernatural motives may be used to elevate this virtue, but none can take its place. No one can be a student without it. St. Thomas Aquinas, who was 226 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE both saint and scholar, prayed God to keep this natural curiosity of his ever alive. "Grant, I beseech Thee, O merciful God, that I may ardently desire, prudently inquire, .truthfully understand and per-fectly fulfill what is pleasing to Thee." These last words of the saint give us a glimpse into his inner life and show us how he blended his life of studies with his spiritual life. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee." Thomas Aquinas, prince and patron of all students, was first of all as curi-ous as ever a man could be, curious about Aristotle and Cicero, about the nature of man and the world about him. And he never lost his curiosity. His Summa Tbeotogica alone contains some 4,000 questions. Yet, his natural love for knowledge was con-trolled and intensified, not lessened, by his love for the will of God declared to him by his superiors. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee," he says. Besides the motive of stddiositas, therefore, two other motives attracted him to his studies, the motives of obedience and 'of charity. He was curious first because he natu-rally loved the truth which he found in a book of Aristotle; and he became more curious because he knew that God wanted him to study this book of Aristotle; and most curious because he knew that he would please God by studying Aristotle. By these means, then, his study became triply fascinating to St. Thomas. Two high motives drawn from his spiritual life combined with a natural motive and all three blending together drew his mind to the study of one and the same work. So, the blending of which we speak is the blending of a supernatural desire, or desires, with the natural desire of studiositas. The motives of obedience and charity, which we have just toudhed upon, are, I suppose, the easiest for the average religious to manage throughout his course and at the same time the most meri-torious. Another which can blend with all branches of his study is the motive for zeal for souls. In all the studies which the Church has arranged with admirable foresight and wisdom, there is a verti-cal intention which looks up from the different subjects to be studied, rising step by step from the elements of Latin and Greek grammar right up to theology, and based on the following chain of reasoning: the better prepared I am in the,lower subjects, the better grasp will I also have of sacred doctrine and so be the better equipped to preach the word of God to others. This is one way of looking at the course and drawing from the apostolate at the top a greater attraction for all the studies which lead up to it. But, even on the lower levels-- 227 JOHN R. POST Ret~iew /'or Religious that is to say," while one is studying Latin and Greek and philosophy --there is room for a horizontal intention of putting this very matter to good use for souls. I mean the apostolate of the class-room. In teaching orders especially, in which a large percentage of each province is engaged in the work of education, superiors and students alike are forced to think of their houses of study as normal schools and of the time of studies as a period of training for future teachers and professors. The novice who is studying the different uses of the Greek dative should remind himself that he may be teaching that very same lesson one day in any one of the order's schools. Students of the humanities and of philosophy will be given greater motivation if they are told from time to time how many of their religious brethren are teaching those subjects in the colleges. Theologians know that every priest is teaching theology in one way or another, either in the classroom, or in the pulpit or in the confessional. Thus, the teaching vocation provides a specia! in-centive for applying oneself with greater vigor to that part of the course in which one is now engaged. At this point I would like to pause and answer a question that must be bothering the reader as all these different motives (and we haven't come to the end of them yet) are being passed in review be-fore him. The quesion might be phrased as follows: How is it pos-sible to keep all these motives in mind at once? To increase in knowledge, to obey God, to please God, to teach others--how can one manage them psychologically? The answer is that is one is not obliged to use them all. To blend a life of study with the spiritual life, only two are required, the motive of studiositas and one other. But, if. others are used, only that of studiositas is to be kept in the front of the mind, while the others are lined up behind it as ulterior motives--just as in arranging a hand of cards you keep only one in the foreground in full view while all the others are held behind it peeking out a little over the edge. Does that mean that God will have to "take a back seat" to ablative absolutes or ens ut sic? Yes, at least while one is studying ablative absolutes or ens ut sic. Or, to put it another way, God Himself tells you to study and.by so doing He "takes a back seat" for Himself, always continuing, however, to occupy the first place in your heart. Study of the Humanities The study of the humanities presents its own peculiar motive to the religious who is engaged in it, a motive which, if employed with 228 September, 1954 STUDY ~.ND SPIRITUAL LIFE care and discretion, can give to his spiritual life a greater depth and breadth than it ever bad before. This motive is found in the word humanitas, for, as I see it, the purpose .of all classical studies in Latin, Greek, and English is to increase and intensify ar sense of kin-ship between the student and all the other members of the human family. Thus, with his symiJathetic understanding broadened and deepened and his sensibilities more refined, he can more easily respond to motives of faith which teach him to love all men in Christ and for Christ. As is~ clear from looking at ourselves, not all men are saints. The exercises of the novitiate may lead religious to expect too much of their fellow men. From reading the, lives of the saints and the ways of reaching sanctity they can acquire a partial, not a total view of life. Spiritual theology is likely to idealize and adorn too much. Philosophy, on the other hand, strips life of its warmth and color. History and literature, correcting the other two views, show us human beings as they are. They show us man as the "noble, lawless savage" that Newman speaks of, "whose morals find interests are disfigured and perverted by all the imperfections of passion, 'folly and ambition." So, we must not expect from litera-ture any more than it in'tends to teach us, or any more than we can reasonably expect to find in nature itself, whose mirror it aims to be, and certainly we must not expect to find in it a guide to (he highest sanctity. We have that in Christ and in the Church. "It is the business of art and literature," as Fleckner says, "not to save men's souls, but to make them more worth the saving." The most literature intends to teach us, then, is that human nature with all its faults is very lovable in itself. Then, after viewing its faults through the medium of literature, we ourselves can reason to the great need nature always had, and still has, for the redeeming grace of Jesus Christ. Outside the monastery walls, for instance, it is a very human thing for a young man to fail in love. Men are like that. And so Shakespeare enters into the heart of one of them and gives us his Romeo in all the pangs of love-sickness, saying: "See how she leans her cheek upon that hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That l might touch that cbeek t."" That hand, he says, and that cheek, as if there were no others in 229 JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious the world. But, there are no others for Romeo. Isn't that ~he way lovers act? Isn't it human for young men to "moon" that way. Shakespeare has caught this universal trait, loved it, and invited us to love it too. It is also very human for men who have done great things for their country to take compl~acency in it, and so we sense something of our own humanity in every speech of Cicero as he struts across the floor of the Senate letting men know how lucky they are to have him as consul. Yet, boastful as Cicero is, his love for his friends and his family, his loyalty to Rome and hatred for all corruption give us an example of a very noble Roman. Achilles, the greatest warrior of them all, pouts in his tent before the walls of Troy when his prize is taken from him. Antigone has become for all time the personification of sisterly affection, just as Hecuba has of aged grief, and Aeneas of filial piety. Now, the Church thinks that it .will be good for the future priests to realize how many different kinds of souls it takes to make up the human race, and to know them and love them for what they are. We know from faith that they are lovable for a higher reason, but lit-erature teaches us that they are also lovable for the basic humanity that is in them, that image of God, warped and twisted by human passion in a way that is so much like our own. So, the special pur-pose put before the student of literature, and the one he should grasp and blend with the others, may be summed up in one phrase-- to love human beings. Motioes for Studying Philosophy The subject of philosophy, too, is not without its intrinsic motives which can be made to blend with the spiritual life. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," says Hamlet: but, we might add, not many more. For philosophy is the study of all things knowable according to their ultimate causes. The matter of philosophy, therefore, in-cludes the world, the nature of man, and even the very being of God, as far as these things can be known by the light of reason. In natural theology, for instance, students are taught to prove the. ex-istence of God and His attributes, and how all things come from Him by creation, are kept in existence by His conservation and con-' currence, and finally have Him for their ultimate purpose. In this whole field no religious who has ever made the Spiritual Exercises can fail to see the very subject matter of the Foundation and the Contemplation to Obtain Divine Love. Moreover, the laws of 230 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE thought which God has implanted in our intellect, and the laws of conduct in our will, the nature 6f the human soul, its origin and its destiny are treated of in logic, ethics, and psychology. That such knowledge can, and should be, of immense profit to a religious in acquiring a more intimate knowledge of himself goes without saying. But, apart from this bearing of philosophy on his own personal life, it is in this branch of his studies that the student is forging some of his strongest weapons for his future apostolate. It is agreed, I think, by Catholic apologists that the most dangerous at-tacks on the faith today come .from ~hilosophical quarters, and hence they must be met with philosophical weapons. The Church is assailed by the false doctrines of Communism, of the rights of the state in education; she has to meet the ~rguments of those who would justify birth control and so-called mercy killing: she has to be able to give the answers to so many who question her about the very existenc~ of God and the immortality of the soul. And all of these questions have their answers--solid, reasonable answers-- in Scholastic. philosophy. Knowing this, then, a young religious would be foolish and failing in his duty if he did not study his phi-losophy with the idea of defending the Church in this all-important field. Motives For Studgin9 Theologg It takes little effort to understand how the study of theology, which is the science of God, can have a stimulating effect on the spiritual life of a theologian. The reason is that the subject matter of theology is exactly the same as the matter of our prayer and the interior life. All that God has revealed about Himself and about His plans for the sanctification of the world, all that one needs to know, and more than one needs to know, by way of credenda and agenda, to make one a saint is presented to us over a period of four years in lectures and books, arranged according to the most scientific system of thought yet devised. Treatises on the Unity and Trinity of God; treatises on God as Creator and Redeemer; treatises on the Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, and the mysteries of His life; a treatise on the Blessed Mother of God: treatises on God's ways of drawing men to Himself by means of grace and the sacraments; the Church of God and the four last things; the laws of God and of the Church --- each and every one of these subjects speaks to us of God . . . God ¯ . . God. Theology is the science of God. We must not conclude, however, that classes in theology are 231 30HN R. POST Reoiew ~or Religious meant to be spiritual exhortations. Thgy are not. Moreover, some of the theses may seem as lacking in warmth as mathematics: but like mathematids, they are necessary to show the strength and logic of the system. The hnowledye of God, then, not the love of Him, is the immediate object of theology--clear, solid, profound knowledge based on divine revelation. But since knowledge prepares for love, one's knowledge of God cannot help but prepare his soul for acts of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and ch;irity, not only during the times of formal prayer, but also during class as one listens to professors expounding the sacred doctrine and in one's roo~m when one can delve into the depths of Sdripture and tradition for oneself. That is why St. Augusti.ne likens the students of the-ology to the contemplative Mary who sat at the feet of desus listen-ing to His words. "Let them choose for themselves the better part," he says, "which shall not be taken from them, and let them give themselves up to the word, drink in eagerly the sweetness of doc-trine, and be taken up with the science of salvation." One of the aims of this article has, I hope, been achieved. It was to explain how in practice the life of studies can be made to help the spiritual life throughout the course. To this end some of the super-natural mo'tives or desires which can be blended with the natural desire of studiositas have been developed in detail. And doubtless there are others. One can, for instance, find great inspiration in studying out of gratitude to his own order, or out of reparation to the Sacred Heart. This last becomes especially valuable when the studies appear to be difficult or dull. But, those intentions we have discussed show at least how one can go about supernaturalizing his study habits right from the beginning of the course. Using the motives of studiositas, obedience, charity, and zeal for souls, ,which are common to every branch of knowledge, a student can also apply himself to the humanities because he wants to deepen his love for his fellow man, to philosophy to help him d~efend the Church, and to the61ogy because he wants to increase his faith, hope, and love of God. Entering upon his studies with any or all of these motives the young levite will turn his hours of class and study into exercises of the spiritual life and win great merit for himself, the merit of these lofty virtues. Nothing remains now but the easy task of pointing out how a young man's life of prayer can be made to help his life of study. In a perfect blending of the two it is clear that each must contribute 232 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE something to the other; and if, by means of the lot:ty mqtives we have just described, one's study-life has been turned into an instru-ment of the highest virtue, does it not seem just that in times of prayer a religious should make some return and beg of God the grace of making greater progress in his studies? He knows that grace is necessary for every supernatural work, and the more supernatural, it is, the more grace is needed. As he tries, therefore, to manage the higher motives in his study, it becomes increasingly clear that, al, though'we apply ourselves to the lesson in Greek or philosophy, still it is God who must give the increase. Moreover, when we plead with God to increase our spirit of curiosity or to give us a more re-tentive memory, we are asking Him only for what He Himself de-sires. St. John Damascene defines prayer as "the petition of fitting things from God." What can be more fitting, or more in accordance with God's will, than th~it a student, should make progress in his studies? If God asks every religious in his years of formation to strive seriously and eonstantly to acquire a mastery of his subject, surely He cannot take it amiss or accuse us of bringing in distractions if we beg Him now and then in our colloquies to assist us in carry-ing out" His own will, especially if the fulfillment of His will re-dounds so much to the defense of the t:aith, the spread of Catholi~ education, and the sanctification of .our own souls. This was done byi.St. Thomas, as we have seen. One's examination of conscience, toO, can be made to serve the cause of study by keeping a careful watch over one's motives and nourishing the solid habits of indus-try, ~bedience, and the others. And thus it will come about that by." a sort of interpenetration our studies will help our prayer and our prayer will help our studies, and both, thus joined toge~her, will bring ~:orth much fruit--in the spirit of the saints--to the greater glory of God. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would~ help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Bdsiness communications, sfich" as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as manuscripts, questions, letters for\publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS" St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 233' The World Around Us John H. Ziegler, C.S.P. THE families and friends of religious continually have to make lightning-like mental adjustments when conversing with Father Luke, Brother Bede, or Sister Mary Francis. Blithely we speak of a joke heard in the "common room," of having to at- ~end."particular examen," or of being assigned a new "obedience" next week--all terms capable of various interpretations besides the consecrated meanings we have attached to them. Most mysterious of all, however, must be our use of "the .world." When heard for the first time from young, red-cheeked Frater Paul, a statement like "I used to play left end for Catholic CentraE but that was before I left the world," could give some unititiated layman the eerie sensa-tion of being in the presence of a departed soul--appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Occasionally too we are guilty of downright equivocation when referring to "the world," thereby indreasing our chances of being misunderstood. In one sense we left the world as soon as we" begin to live in a religious house, free from such worldly ways as catching [he 8:20 bus to work every' mornin'g and saving to buy a spring hat br a new pair of shoes. That world, however, is not in itself the world which hates Christ nor that which the spiritual writers un-animously warn us to shun under pain of losing our souls. "Our parents, to whom above all others under God we owe our vocations, live or lived in that world, along with countless other lay Catholics whose solid goodness we dare not question. In another sense, of course, there is "the world" which we as well as all Christians mdst renounce, the world which is its own idol, the world which makes of pleasure, power, and wealth the supreme goals of living. This world the religious not only leaves, but in doing so burns his bridges behind him so to speak by ceding to God his legitimate" rights tb use what the worldlings abuse. Hence it is always dangerous and some- ~:imes sinful to return to this seductive world even in our thotights and imaginings. But to dwell occasionally upon the present condi-tion of other men and women living in that world of cares and iinxieties from which mercifully we are sheltered can be very profit-able. Never to do so 'may even be to risk emotional immaturity,, a 234 THE WORLD AROUND US serious if not fatal flaw in a religious. For, although at first it sounds shocking, we can indeed learn much from the world. For example, our self-complacency shatters into a million pieces at the thought of how many good, prayerful, mortified people there are who have no title but Miss, Mr., or Mrs. At five in the morning the jangling of a lone alarm clock strikes the ear no more pleasant!y than the clanging of a bell or a throaty "Benedicamus Domino." Yet there are lay Catholics who rise at such an hour, say morning prayers, and set out for Mass in the nearest church. Perhaps they have had a full-night's sleep, perhaps they have been up and down half a dozen times with a restless child or a sick husband or wife. Others, particularly young women who work in offices, attend a noonday Mass during their lunch hour and receive Holy Commun-ion- which meant before the new Eucharistic fast regulations that they had been pounding a typewriter for three or four hours without so much as a sip of water. Man.y say their rosary daily; some steady old breadwinners have spent a few minutes before the Blessed Sac- .rament on their way home from work every day for years. These are by no means all the Catholics living in the world, not even the majority; but the point is that these few pray and sacrifice regularly or~ their own, without our schedule and rule, without the support and good example of our religious brethren, without, yes, the leisure time for prayer afforded us by our state of life. In the parable it was the servant who received only one talent and buried it unprofitably who was so severely reprimanded and punished. We shtidder.to think how severe would ~ave been the condemnation of the servant who received five talents if he had not made good use of them ! Paradoxically, it may also help us to be better religious to recall at times how many bad people there are in the world, crude, cruel, sensual, selfish people whom we seldom meet even in our apostolic contacts. How trifling the annoying faults of our confreres seem beside the gross wickedness of many who pass as respectable in the wgrld. Day in and day out, for instance, fine Catholic men and w,gmen must shut their ears against the flood of foul talk,~which sv~.irls around.workbenches and desks in, the,places they-~are~employed a demorali.zin.g source~ of temptation vce are spared. They must e~i~rn a living.ami~o fierce and often, unethical competition where it is every man for himself. Admittedly that blustering member c~f the. local community who somehow irritates us may not yet have at- 235 JOHN I-~. ZIEGLER Reolew [or Religious tained the highest reaches of humility and charity, but in 6ur .heart we can always be sure that 'if we w~r'e hungry, or sick, or in distress of any kind, he or she would be among the first to come to our aid no matter what the cost. :"' Speaking of per~gnality clashes and apparent lncompat~blhty agwe l~tbel it today, it would be enormously na'ive to suppose that these are restricted to convents and monasteries. Most religious had the good fortune to grow up in homes where father and mother settled their differences amicably and pulled together. Unfortun-ately this is not a universal pattern. The eloquent instruction be-fore marriage used in this country reminds the couple that "the fu,~ ture, with its hopes and disappoint .m. ents, its successes and its fail'- U~es, ii~s pleasures and its pains, its joys and its sorrows" is hidden from their eyes.' Often enough that" future soon reveals itself to be ¯ a bitter disappointment when one or the other partner under the stress of married and family life sho, ws up as a spiteful, unbending, irresponsible person.,. The ea~.y arid 15o, pular way out leads to a divorce court. But eyery parish priest knows of more than one case of sheer heroism on the part of a husband or wife who for years has ~t~d up under this cross rather than renege on a sacred promise and break up a home. So when we find the company of Father Glum oi Sister Garrhlous especially trying, our supernatural charity towards them will be no less meritorious and may even be more effective if we realize that since the fall of Adam human relations have been'an ifi-escapable problem for everybody. Enlarging our horizons and having a world vision can:in many. ways be a tonic to our sometimes sluggish spiritual lives. It is, we must never forget, our world since by .entering the common life we do not and in fact cannot resign from membership in the human race[ Moreover, our apostolic vocation compels us to see in every sinner a potential saint, and without indulging in the dubious esti-mate Of our age as the most wicked in history, we can safely say that objectively at least innumerable mortal sins are being committed. How puny and cowardly do our sacrifices appear against such a backdrop! Listlessly we dally over hundreds of opportunities to merit graces for the spiritually underprivileged while whole nations fall away from God. While Rome burns--thank God, not yet literally--we fritter away our time in the careless performance of our duties of state. Psychologists, say a well-adjusted person must be orientated; he must realize the circumstances of time and place 236 ' September, 1954 THE WORLD AROUND US and people in which he as an individual moves. Spiritual orientation --realizing our vital position in the Mystical Body--is even more necessary, particularly for the .religious assigned by obedience to work that naturally speaking is unattractive and unrewarding. Only when he or she fully appreciates the far-reaching; world-wide conse-quences of any task well done out of love for God can there be achieved that inner contentment and peaceful adjustment to the de-tails of daily life which should characterize every servant of God. A wilfully discontented religious is something of an "Indian giver," since it must be presumed that we knew at least confusedly what we were promising when we gave ourselves to God. Only the wilfully discontented, however, can be blamed, because everyone is apt to feel discontented now and then. Here, too, in these 6ccasional periods of dissatisfaction, turning to the stark reality of the outside World can do wonders for our morale. Imagine us standing before a group of young Catholic mothers and fathers of not poor but moderate circumstances and telling them with a straight face our most recent cause for dissatisfaction: that Sister Fortunata was deemed worthy of a new habit while we were told to put up with our patched one for awhile, or that Father Procurator's fondness for ginger snaps has led him to buy another case of them with the result that the whole comm.unity will be munching on the tasteless things for some weeks to come. While being somewhat amused and per-haps a bit surprised to find such utterly human reactions beneath the religious garb, these Catholic couples could very well give us an en-lightening five-minute lecture on how much it costs to house, clothe, and feed a growing family today, presenting as evidence a handful of unpaid bills. For all its inconveniences and privations. our poverty is at least secure. Their support depends on a monthly pay check which an extraordinary expense like illness can shrink to almost nothing. And then there are always the really poor whose existence, if we are not privileged t!o work among them, we may tend to forget. If we are stationed in a large city, the chances are that less than' a mile or two from our front door there are slums, the decrepitude and squalor of which would send us hurrying back gratefully to our neat little convents. There is little disagreement that over the course of a lifetime the~ most painful sacrifices~made by a religious: stem: from~ obedience. As the venerable Trappist~ lay brother is supposed to have admitted: 'Tve gotten used to almost everything but doing what I'm told." 237 JOHN H, ZIEGLER Reoiew for Religious Again it would be unrealistic to forget that not only religious have superiors. One thing that can be affirmed of our superiors is that however imprudent at times we may think their commands--how seldom all the facts warrant this opinion--their designs are moti-vated by a sincere desire for the good of the community and each of its members. Some of the most embittered persons one can meet in the world are those whose careers were blighted by an unscrupulous executive"s passing over their genuine ability and service to give the nod to some less worthy but conniving crony. The religious who harbors the suspicion that s.uperiors lie awake after night prayers de-vising ways to make him miserable is rapidly becoming pathological, both mentally and spiritually. Our rules and constitutions, or more often customs, sometimes reach a directing or restraining finger into nearly every department of life. But with admirable self-control in view of their past experience with red tape and army regulations, veterans of military service calmly assure us that we have no mon-opoly on minutiae. A West Point graduate confessed that, after the discipline of the Point, the externals of novitiate training did not seem overly difficult. Considerations such as these are not based upon a vision of re-ligious men and women, faithful to their obligations, but for the most part unhappy and disgruntled, dragging their way through life like dreary prisoners. Not at all! But is it unfair and untrue to concede that sooner or later into the life of even the most fervent among us there slink the twin devils of discouragement and self-pity? When they come, bent upon upsetting our spiritual equili-brium, should we not have some natural defense at hand as well as sound supernatural principles? All of creation is at our disposal to use in attaining our eternal destiny. Why not turn the contempo-rary world with its crosses and problems and temptations into a re-minder that the yoke we bear and the burden we shoulder are not altogether unique? ' And yet in one way they are unique. Because we are cross-- bearers not only by necessity as all men are, not only by Christian resignation as most good layfolk are, but by choice, as are all those who voluntarily follow the counsels. In return we above all others have Christ's promise of a hundredfold and life everlasting. This hundredfold we can spoil for ourselves if, too intent upon our own little world, we see our daily sacrifices magnified out of all propor-tion to what they really are. And even our store of eternal merit 238 September, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS can be decreased if, without a world-wide vision of the urgent needs of this hour, we fail to realize how much more we could help if we tried. Com rn un ica!:ions Reverend Fathers: This communication was prompted by Father Gallen's excellent article in the May issue of the REVIEW, "Pray Reasonably." He men-tions common difficulties in retreats for religious women, many of which, I feel, d~pend upon the methods of the retreat master. Often the presentation of points for n~editation loses its essential character through excessive length. Souls wearied by prolonged oratory are deprived of both the leisure and the inclination for fur-ther lengthy reflection. If these points are to retain their purpose of preparation for mental prayer, twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit, with the explicit in-junction that the retreatants continue the meditation themselves, al-though not necessarily remaining in the chapel to do so. A novel and perhaps very fruitful method of presenting the points would be that of the retreat master "meditating aloud" with brief pauses for the individual to add her own affections, even perhaps with both retreat master and retreatants kneeling. The additional time provided by this shortening of the points might be profitably used in individual contact with souls in the con-fessional. Many sisters do not have an opportunity for spiritual direction during the year and wish to seek advice during the annual retreat. If the hearing of confessions is delayed until the last few days of the retreat, or if the period allotted each day is very limited, the brevity which consideration for others demands makes it difficult to obtain adequate counsel. :~ I am sure that many would benefit by a series of articles on the subject of the retreat in the REVIEW, similar to the excellent treat-ment of spiritual direction a few years ago. Undoubtedly both re-treat masters and retreatants could share many suggestions in this way.--A SISTER. 239 lZor Your/n[orma!:ion Our Proiects In our March, 1954, number (p. 61) we suggested a "project" in the form of pooling ideas as to what it takes to be a good superior. We fiave received some response (even though rather meager) to this suggestion, but we have not yet had time to organize the material. We hope to have it ready for the November number. Also in the March number (p. 62) we suggested an "American Founders' Series." The response to this has also been meager; but the first article of what ,may (or may not) be a series will appear in November. Pharmacists' Guilds It is no easy thing today for the Catholic pharmacist to live up to the moral principles and ideals taught by the Church. One help-ful means of doing this is mutual cooperation in the form of phar-macists' guilds. One such guild is The Druggists' Guild of St. dames, of the Diocese of Covington, Kentucky. This guild has published a pamphlet entitled Our Faith in Pharrnac~j, which explains the moral principles and ideals, tells how to organize a guild, and gives a model of an appropriate constitution and by-laws. The ~0rice of the pam-phlet is twenty-five cents. It can be obtained from: The Druggists' Guild of St. James, 109 W. 6th St., Covington, Ky. Trapplsfs Leave New Mexico" The Trappist community of Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos, New Mexico is soon to be moved to a new site in Oregon. Their New Mexico property is now for sale. It is considered suitable for a convalescent home or some such purpose for any religious group not dependent on natural resources for its support. An illus-trated brochure with pertinent information may be had by writing the Father Abbot, Right Reverend M. Columban 'Hawkins, o.c.s.o., Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos,.New Mexico. 240 Pilgrims on !:he Road t:o Love George Byrne, S,J. THE strangest answer ever given to a questioner was given by Christ to Nicodemus. A doctor of the Law, he had been im-pressed by this "Rabbi, who came a teacher from God." From him, if from anyone, he could learn the ideal of life. What on earth did Christ's answer mean? "A man must be~ born again of water and the Holy Ghost." If there had been question only of some reno-vation by water, he might have understood. John the Baptist's work was not so enigmatic. But to be "born of the Spirit,". and so "to be spirit," entering on a new life unlike the "birth of the flesh," was something unheard of in the schools where the "masters in Israel" taught. Frankly, he did not understand. He was familiar~ with the book of Deuteronomy. He l~new its precept to love God with the whole heart, with the whole strength. But he did not know the meaning of real love; the love which "whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be'destroyed, never falleth away." This love bad nothing of earth in it; his mind had not yet been opened to "heav-enly things." He fancied that he loved, and with him we all so fancy; but our love is a love of desire, a yearning of the heart to clasp for self something that will enrich us. When personal gain disal~- pears, the "love" vanishes. It is still more fickle when faced with the cost of suffering. It was not love, pure love. Shakespeare merely repeats St. Paul: "Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds." Pure love is uncaused. It is of heaven; it is heaven, fo~ "God is Love." A complete birth of the spirit is needed to secure it: "Create a dean heart in me, 0 God." Nicodemus must realize how "God so loved the wi~rld as to give His only begotten Son." Nico-demus, with his fellow Jews, practiced an observance calculated to hasten the "restoration of Israel." Self was the kernel of apparent fidelity. The Apostles, too, gave that they might get: "Wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel?" Their feet were not firmly set, as pilgrims, on the road to love--pure love, God's love. For three years the Master had been pointing the way; but their "hearts were slow to believe." About to leave them, He de-clared: "I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear 241 GEORGE BYRNE Reuieto ~:or Religious them now." They had to be "born agai'n" of the Holy Spirit; He "would teach them all truth." He would do more. He would come; He would abide with them. They would not remain "or-phans." They were to find their 'way to the school of love. Born of God, they would love; and, loving with the real love, they would know Him. Before Pentecost the Apostles remained behind closed doors for fear of the Jews. After Pentecost they were "wit-nesses of the Holy Ghost." They bad been born again to the true love of God. Now. they wanted to give that they "might be chil-dren of their Father in heaven": "They went from the pr~esence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer re-proach for the name of Jesus." "To GIVE AND NOT TO COUNT THE COST" We saw in a previous article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [July, 1954], 211) that, though all of us would resent' being told that we are inc.apable of love, we should be read9 enough to demur about the epithet. "holy." Even though we might count ourselves among the class of "good religious," there would be a lurking feeling that "holy" is reserved for the "saints." We rather think of it as applicable to some rare supermen, who have shaken the world's dust from their feet and have reached a No-Ordinary-Man's Land, through an asceticism, and a still more esoteric mysticism, beyond our range. A fundamental mistake, since "holiness" and "'real love" are identified: "He who loveth is born of God." St. John, who bad pondered over Christ's reply to Nicodemus, at last under-stood it fully at Pentecost. When he began to write his Epistle, he had "been born again" and had come to "know God" with the knowledge that "is eternal life: that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." The truth is easily stated. In practice, however, it seems one of those easy lessons hard to learn. John could speak of that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our ~yes . and our hands hav~ handled, of the word of life." St. Peter would strengthen our faith in its trial with the words, "Whom having not seen, you love." We remain doubtful: "how, where, and when have we shown this love? The Master Himself has removed all uncertainty: "Lord, when did we see Thee hungry . . . ? Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me." The test of love is generosity; the test of pure love is unselfish generosity: "to give, and not to count the cost . . . to labor and not 242 September, 1954 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVt~ to seek reward": "Do good, and lend, hoping for nothing thereby: ¯ . . and you shall be the sons of the Highest." The "rich man" may well, like the Pharisee, have pridec] himself on his religion of temple service and Law, observance; growth in holiness he neglected. Lazarus, at his gate, offered him an oppor- ¯ -tunity. of growing in love by compassion. He neglected it; he was buried in hell, where all the loveless go! St. Francis de Sales has been called the saint of love: his pen distilled the word; his actions breathed it. His friends asked him the way to holiness. "You must love God with all your heart; and your neighbor as yourself," he.answered. "Yes," they said, "we know all that; but bow is one to do it?" To their insistence he replied: "Methods and systems I have.n't, got. You learn to love by loving; as you learn to speak by spe~iking, to run by running. ¯ . . Begin as a mefe~pprentice, and the very power of love will lead you on to become master of the art." " St. 'Paul, certainI~ a fire-eater, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter aga~nst~the d~sc~ple~of the Lord," d~d sit down as an ap-prentice to learn. He mastered th~ lesson and left it as an heirloom for us in his beautiful "Song of Love." If we would be "holy," we could do no better than constantly sing to ourselves this song, and let its melody harmonize with all we think about or do to oust. fellowmen. Let us begin the apprenticeship at home before looking for arctic regions to whrm with rays of our kindliness. This was the "little way" of Thgr~se of Lisieux. ~She daily tended, in her own little garden, roses whose perfume spread far and wide. Let us take St. Paul's Song of Love, and place in an opposite column the growl of selfishness. CHARITY is patient . . . is kind: on the look-out to help . . . envieth not: encourages, praises . . . dealeth not perversely . . . is not puffed up . . . is not ambitious . . . seeketh'not her own . . . .SELFISHNESS is impatient: "I can't stand thls"; "give it to me now" . . . is intolerant, bored: keeps what it has; looks for more . . . is jealous: criticizes, condemns to ap-pear bigger . . . loves to "hit back," to "take dowa that fellow's prideV' . . . lets others know what it has done; thrives on flattery . . . is full of its own importance; expects due reqognition . . . insists on its rights; "number one" is never second . . . 243 GEORGE BYRNE CHARITY is not provoked to anger . rejoiceth not in iniquity, but . . . with the truth . . . SELFISHNr:SS is touchy: flares up at a word or an act . . . admires the crafty; is afraid of sin-cerity . . . beareth all things . . . believeth all things . . . hopeth all things . . . endureth all things, . never falleth away. complains of each pin-prick . . . is suspicious, on its guard . . . is cynical: throws cold water . . . has little staying power when sacrifice is needed: is fickle. As religious, we make an examination of conscience at least once, peihaps twice a day. A mere inventory of so many duties well done, poorly done, or forgotten, does not carry us very far on the way to real improvement. The point to be stressed is not the work done, but the motive, the spirit, animating it. Our divine Master made this clear in commendin~g Mary Magdalen: "Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much." If instead of "Charity" w~ read in the first column, "Jesus," we see how true it is: "Jesus is patient, is kind, beareth all things, etc." Then try our own name: "John, Mary, etc." We soon see how little we fit into the "Char-ity" column; on the contrary, how much we are at home in the selfishness parade. Having made the discovery, let us look forward to possible op-portunities during the next hour, this morning, or this afternoon, of being "patient, kind, enduring," and the rest: let us resolve to profit by some of them. It is thus. that we "learn to love b,y loving." It is thus that we really start as pilgrims on the road to love and find to our surprise that we have more in common with the Heart of Love, the Sacred Heart, than we imagined. Holiness, wl~ich is growth in love, is not an empty dream. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOHN R. POST is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Shadowbrook, at Lenox, Massachusetts. JOHN H. ZIEGLER is doing graduate studies at the Catholic University of America. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Mill-town Park, Dublin, Ireland. FRANCIS N. KORTH is a member of our editorial. board. 244 'i Secular Ins!:d:u!:es: Some ( ues!:ions Francis N. Korth, S.J. IN A PREVIOUS ISSUE of this REVIEW (XIII [1954], 108)~, I referred to a number of interesting points about secular insti-tutes, many of which came up during the discussions of the ruary, 1954, Chicago meeting dealing with secular institutes. At the time I mentioned that I hoped to present these points in a future article, possibly in question-and-answer form. This is'the redemp-tion of that promise. The items are more or less iso'lated points. They are being presented with a view to filling out to some extent the general picture of what a secular institute is. It is hoped they will fulfill the purpose for which they are intended. I. Must applicants necessarily go to a distant city where a house of the secular institute is located? Personal acquaintance of the applicant should be had by the adviser who acts for the secular institute. This usually means a trip on someone's part. Later ori some other provision for the training of successful can~lidates closer to their home might possibly be worked out, especially if there are several such candidates living in about the same vicinity. However, that solution would depend upon a number of circumstances: sometimes it might be possible, other times it would be impossible. It would be better not to count upon it but rather to more or less plan on going for the necessary training.to the place where the house of the secular institute is lo-cated, at least for some period of time. 2. Is it adoisable to admit ex-religious as candidates to a secular institute? At least at the beginning of a new secular institute it would seem to be advisable not to take in too many ex-religious, since they already have undergone a systematic training different from that proper to candidates for a secular institute. That previous training might binder the development of the true spirit of a budding secular institute. 3. Are middle-aged people likely candidates for a'dmittance to secular institutes? 245 " FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious M.any otherwise good people of that age group might not have all the?necessary q~J'alifications.for .such a vocation. One of these would be the proper age requirement for admittance to a specified institute. Hence one who is channeling possible vocations to dif-ferent secular institutes should make himself acquainted with the age requirements of the various groups. 4. Are widows acceptable as candidates for a secular institute? Widows can be admitted, unless the individual constitutions forbid it. If the widow has children, that might make a difference. Depending upon circumstances, .such applicants might be accepted or might be refused. 5. Would divorced persons be admitted? Under the supposition that the constitutions allow it, if the divorced person is the innocent party, such applicant could be ad-mitted provided there was no scandal: for example, if the identity of the person as a member of the secular institute is kept hidden if that be necessary to avoid scandal, or if the person goes to a place far removed from the locality where he is known. 6. What is the length of the aspirancy and of the novitiate? A six-months' aspirancy seems to be rather common. The period of training which corresponds to the novitiate in religious institutes varies: it is of one- or two-years' duration in some existing institutes. 7. Could the vows or promises made in a secular institute be termed semipublic? Yes, that term has been applied to them at'times since those vows, oaths, consecrations, or promises have a juridical effect. How-ever, all such vows, oaths, consecrations, and promises are, abso-lutely speaking, juridically private and not public; they are not recognized as public by the Church. But to distinguish them from ordinary private vows (which have no juridical effects) those vows have been termed by some commentators as semipublic or social VOWS. 8. What type or courses of studies might be suggested for the intel-lectual formation of members? Courses or lectures in dogmatic theology and in~ some branches of philosophy could be given. Also there is place-for courses in 246 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES asceticism. Dependent upon the particular apostolate of an institute, courses in languages, missiology, sociology, and other subjects would be suitable. 9. How much time would be given to prayer? In some institutes about one or two hours daily are required. This includes attendance at Mass, saying the rosary, a ball bout or more of meditation, some spiritual reading, and the like. Because many members are busy during the day earning their livelihood or doing their usual tasks, the suitable time for prayer would be the morning or evening hours. In some institutes the Divine Office (usually only a pari of it) is said privately each day. An annual retreat of five or six days is the regular thing. There might also be a monthly day of recollection. 10. Is any means used for checking on faithfulness to those prayer obligations? One possible means could be a written report on the external ful-fillment of the prayer obligations. However, no data is available on how much, if any, of this is done in practice. I1. What provision is made for the observance of the vow or promise of poverty? When the members are living in a common house and bare goods in common, the matter can be provided for quite easily. This is rarely the case. When the members do not live in a common house, a "budget" method could be used. This budget might be drawn up to cover ordinary expenses, such as light, food, heat, and so on. It might also be extended to include another category, extraordinary ex-penses: necessary or useful expenses that arise only occasionally. In either case, the estimated budget of expenses could be submitted periodically to the superior for approval, perhaps once a year. After- ~vards, at stated intervals the discrepancies between this estimated budget and the real budget, of which a record bad been kept, would be submitted to the superior for approval of the discrepancies. This budget would be individual; it would take into account such facts as the resources or income of the subject and his status in society. If the budget covers only ordinary expenses, then for extraordinary expenses (for example, the purchase of a new coat) permission could be obtained each time from the superior. Or provision might be 247 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious made to allow the subject to presume permission for the extraordi-nary expense and then report the matter later on. Similarly, in regard to the amount of money to be contributed by each member for the general needs of the institute, an agreement could be made between the institute (superior) and the subject. This might be made on a somewhat permanent basis, or as something to be re-examined and possibly revised periodically, say annually. If the former, then a clause could be added requiring re-examination in case the financial .condition of the subject became notably c.hanged. Again in drawing up this agreement, account is taken of the financial status of the individual. In general, in the matter of poverty a member could try to get along with a little less than other persons in his state of life or social position require. 12. Could a me~ber of a secular institute ~wn and operate a busi-ness? : Owning and operating a business in the name of the institute is forbidden, but it does not seem forbidden for an individual member to own and operate one. 13. Could a member prot)ide.for his parents financially it: the latter were in need? If the parents of a member fell int~ need, it seems that the supe-rior could approve such assistance as a necessary expense. In that case, however, the institute itself would not support the parents of the member, but it,would permit the member to support them. 14. Do members of secular institutes mal~e a will? Yes, a will or last testament is made before profess)on. 15. What about dealing with the opposite sex? Aside from professional or other necessary contact, it would seem that steady or regular contact with members of the opposite sex is to be avoided. This would also extend to correspondence. In the matter of dancing, members could sponsor or chaperon dances, but they .would not themselves dance with persons of the opposite sex. However, it is possible that such provisions might vary some-what in different institutes. . 16. Is it permissible fgr members to attend movies? to use cos-metics? to smoke? to go swimming? , 248 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES In these matters, there very likely might be divergent practices among various institutes. According to one report it is all right for the members to attend movies for recreational purposes if the pic-tures are good; moderate use of cosmetics is allowed; no mention is made for or against smoking; swimming is permissible. The deci-sion as to what is permissible or not in these and similar matters might depend to a considerable extent upon the customs of places and peoples. 1.7. For what purpose would a secular institute be established? A secular institute would have the general purpose of aiming at the sanctification of its members. There would also be a specific purpose, such as doing some particular apostolic work to meet a special apostolic need, or simply placing its members at the disposal of the local ordinary (or of the Holy See) to do what, he wishes done. 18. In u2hose hands is the government of a secular institute? In general the government of a secular institute is in the hands of its lay members, at least for the lay sections. In some institutes, however, a priest is serving in the capacity of superior general or provincial superior. But as a rule priest members might act rather in the capacity of spiritual advisers or confessors. 19. What is an ecclesiastical assistant? An ecclesiastical assistant (who might be known possibly~ by some other term) is a priest specially designated to give help to a secular institute. He might be chosen from the ranks of the diocesan or religious clergy. In general the function of an ecclesiastical as-sistant would be that of counseling, giving spiritual help, and the like in the external forum; but his work might vary somewhat at times in accordance with the wishes of the local ordinary. The in-. ternal government of a group, however, should be left to thegroup itself, unless possibly at 'the beginning more than spiritual help is needed from this priest to keep things going. 20. Would it be advisable for this ecclesiastical assistant, ~vbo has authoritq in spiritual matters in the external forum, also to be the ordinartj confessor or spiritual director of a member? If a discussion of t'bis point were held, the conclusion migbt be reached that a negative answer would seem to/be the better one, al- 249 FR,~,NCIS N. KORTH though in some instances such a combination might work out all right. 21. Is it advisable to use terms, such as "'novitiate," "profession," and so on in connection with secular institutes? At present some of the terminology which is common usage in regard to religious institutes is being used by some writers to explain similar matters relating to secular institutes. Terms such as "no-vitiate" and others which are proper to religious institutes are usu-ally not to be applied in their technical sense to secular institutes; rather it is hoped that a distinct body of terminology proper to secular institutes will be built up gradually. One purpose of such separate terminology might be to stress the important fact that members of secular institutes are not religious. PAMPHLETS Looe Letter (on the love of God) by John M. Scott, S.J. l0 cents.-- Twenty-four Rosaries and Chaplets, by Patrick Shaughnessy, O.S.B. 15 cents.- The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Teacher and Vocations, by John B. Delaunay, C.S.C. 10 cents-- Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Ladtl Was Immaculate, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J.--I Can't Cope/ That Family, by Francis L. Filas, S.d.--Death Is Life, by John M. Scott, S.J.--Heart of Our World," by Arthur R. McGratty, S.J.--Don't Go to Hell, by Winfrid Herbst, S.J.--Each 10 cents. The Queen's Work, 3115 3outh Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18,, Mo. MARIAN YEAR PLAY Counted as Mine is a play of three acts, six scenes, with a modern-dress cho-rus, suitable for performance by high school and college students or by little the-atre groups and parish drama clubs. It is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Hope of America. Written by a Poor Clare, the author of the play, Candle in Umbria, and of the boqk of poems, Whom. I Have Loued. $1.00 per copy. Order from: t(ev. Mother M.'Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. 25O Quinquennial Repor!: By Nonfederated Autonomous Monasteries and Houses EDITORS' INTRODUCTION THE decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, 3uly 9, 1947 (cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [Sept., 1949], 234- 40), extended the obligation of m~lking the quinquennial re-port beyond the terms of canon 510, which requires it only of the abbot primate, the superior of every monastic congregation, and the superior general of every institute approved by the Holy See. Now, however, the superiors of all nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses, as well as the superiors general of all diocesan congrega-tions, are obliged to send in this quinquennial report. Here are the provisions regarding these latter classes of religious: 1. Major superiors of autonomous, monasteries or houses o[ men which, although approved by the Holy See, do not belong to any monastic congregation or federation, shall send in their reports in the foIlowing order: In 1953, 1958, 1963, canons regular, monks, military orders. In 1954, 1959, 1964, all other regulars. In 1955, 1960, 1965, clerical congregations. In 1956, 1961, 1966, lay congregations. In 1957, 1962, 1967, societies of common life, secular insti-tutes and federations. 2. Major superioresses of autonomous monasteries and houses not belonging to any federation, as well as superioresses general of diocesan congregations, societies of common life, and of secular in-stitutes, shall send their report as follows: In I953, 1958, I963, the superioresses of Italy, Spain, Portu-gal. In 1954, 1959, 1964, the superioresses of France, Belgium, Holland, England, Ireland. In 1955, 1960, 1965, the superioresses of the other countries of Europe. In 1956, 1961, 1966, the superioresses of America (North,. Central, South). Shortly after the publication of its decree, the Sacred Congrega- "25t QUINQUENNIAL REPORT tion issued a new questionnaire to replace the official one of March 25, 1922 (AAS, XV, [1923], 459-466) which contained 106 questions. The new questionnaire, printed in Latin, has three forms: (1) for pontifical institutes and societies (342 questions); (2) for diocesan congregations and societies (322 questions); (3) for nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses (171 questions). The first of these questionnaires, for pontifical institutes a, nd societies, has been translated into English and published by the Sa-cred Congregation. It is available for $1.50 from Rev. Giulio Mandelli, Archivist, S. Congregation of Religious, Palazzo San Cal-listo, Rome, Italy. With the permission of the Sacred Congrega: tion of Religious, this complete official English text was also pub-lished in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during the course of the year 1950. The two shorter questionnaires have never been translated officially into English. As a matter of fact, the questionnaires fbr pontifical and diocesan institutes are practically identical after one omits some twenty questions dealing with provinces and their government. The complete text for diocesan congregations may be found in Creusen-Ellis: Religious Men and Women in the Code, ed. 5, 1953, pp. 278-316. The questionnaire for nonfederated autonomous monas.teries and houses, however, contains only about half the questions pro-posed for pontifical institutes. It was decided to publish this ques-tionnaire in our REVIEW for the benefit of these small houses because they cannot find the qfiestions elsewhere in English, And, since the monasteries and houses in England and Ireland must send in their reports this year, this questionnaire is being printed now, even though American houses will not need it until 1956. We should like to add that, though these various questionnaires may directly concern only limited numbers of religious, yet all of us can learn a great deal about the mind of the Church by reading the questions. What follows is an unofficial English translation of the official Latin text of the questionnaire: POINTS TO BE NOTED A) Regarding the drawing up, and writing of the quinquennial re-port: a) ]~efore the reply to each question, there should be a clear 252 ~ September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT ¯indication of the number and letter by which that question is desig- ~aated in this list. b) Whenever a pontifical or episcopal document is brought in, its date and protocol number should be faithfully and uniformly given. c) The reply is to be developed as each case may require, and is not to be dismissed with a simple affirmation or denial. d) The report is to be made out in Latin or in any of the fol-lowing modern languages: English, French, German, Spanish, or Italian. e) The report should be typed and in clear characters. If for some just cause the report is written by hand, the handwriting must be clear. f) The paper to be used must not be translucent nor too thick, but durable, so as to resist the ravages of time. B)" Regarding the manner in which this report is to be made to the ordinaGl and transmitted b~] him to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: 1. Superiors of autonomous monasteries and religious houses are not to send the quinquennia! report directly to the Holy See, but rather to their own local ordinary, if they are subject to him, other-. wise to the regular ordinary upon whom they depend (cf. decree Cure transactis, IV, 1°, 2°). 2. The report is to be signed by the superior of the autono-mous monastery or house and by all his councilors. 3. Either the local ordinary or the regular ordinary, as the case may be, shall send a copy of the report, signed by himself and an-notated by his own personal observations, to the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious within the year itself during which the report is to be made. 4. Together with the first report following the publication of the present questionnaire, the following documents also are to be sent to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: a) Two well-bound copies of the Rule and the constitutions, revised to conform with the Code of Canon Law. .b) One copy each, if there are such, of the books in which particular laws, practices, customs, the ceremonial, and proper prayers are contained. c) A historico-juridical report in which are indicate.c[.the origin of the autonomous monastery or house, its establishment or 253 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoiew for Religious approval, as well as the principal historical events. To this shall be added, if there are any such, copies of those books which describe the history and activity of the monastery. " ¯ ON THE FIRST PAGE OF THE REPORT PUT THE FOLLOWING: The Name, of the monastery or house: . . . ~ (the of{iclal title in Latin, and the common name) Complete address: postal, telegraphic. The years which are covered by the report: . . . THE LIST OF OUESTIONS CONCERNING THE PRECEDING REPORT 1. a) When was the last report sent to the ordinary? b) Were the observations on the report which may have been made by the Sacred Congregation and transmitted by the or-dinary faithfully carried out in practice? 2. Can the matters of information contained in the last report be conscientiously considered reliable and complete, or does anything concerning them seem to require modification? CHAPTER I THE MONASTERY AND ITS GOVERNMENT ARTICLE I The autonomous monastery or house in general 3. What is the juridical nature of the monastery or house: a) To which order, if any, does it belong and which Rule is followed? b) Are the vows solemn or simple; or simple, though sol-emn according to the institute (c. 488, 7°) ? 4. Is the house provided with those things which are neces-sary for the common life, especially: a) A separate cell for each person; or, if the dormitories are common, at least a separate bed for each person, properly set apart from the others? 254 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT b) A separate place fully suitable for the care and assistance of the sick? c) Are the rooms for receiving guests sufficiently separate from the part of the house which is reserved to the community? 5. Are there an.y filial houses subject to the autonomous mon-astery or house? How many? 6. Does the monastery depend on the local ordinary or on the regular superior? ARTICLE II Concernin9 he juridical 9overnmen÷ 7. Is the general council of the monastery or house up to its full membership at present? 8. Within the period covered by the report, has there been a session of the chapter of elections? 9. Were the norms [for the chapter] prescribed by the com-mon law and by particular law "(the constitutions, etc.) faithfully observed as regards: a) The time of the session? b) The elections of the superior, of the consultors or assist-ants, and of other general officials who are elected by the chapter? 10. In all these matters, even in seeking information about the candidates, did all avoid procuring votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others (c. 507, § 2) i1. Who presided at the chapter? 12. Were the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions observed: a) Regarding the requisites and qualifications of superiors and officials (cc. 504, 516)? b) Regarding the duration of offices (c. 505) 13. How many and what dispensations from the provisions of the common or particular law were granted by the Holy See: a) For appointments to positions or offices? b) For the renewal of the same? c) Were the conditions attached to these dispensations faithfully observed ? 14. How do superiors see to it that the decrees of the Holy See which concern religious are known and observed by their own sub-jects (c. 509, § 1)? 15. Is perfect freedom left to subjects, without any inspec-tion of letters by superiors, in their epistolary correspondence with 255 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT those persons who, according to the common (c. 611) and particu-lar law, have this right? 16. Were there any cases of secret and clandestin~ epistolary correspondence, either between religious or between these and secu-lar persons, and what ,was done to correct these abuses? 17. Has the canonical, visitation of the local ordinary taken place, as well as that of the regular superior, if the monastery is sub-ject to him? 18. Have chapters and council meetings been held at prescribed times and in the required cases? 19. Are the matters in which, according to the common and particular law, councilors have a deliberative or consultative vote, faithfully submitted to a meeting of the council? 20. Is the proper liberty of all and each of the councilors duly recognized in the council meetings? And'in the decisions, appoint-ments and votes of whatever kind, were the norms of the common law (cc. 101, 105, 1°, 2°, 3°) and of the particular law always ob-served ? 21. Are the minutes of the meetings duly drawn up and signed? 22. Are the archives of the monastery or house properly equipped and carefully arranged? 23. Is there also for each house a chronicle in which the prin-cipal events are carefully recorded? ARTICLE III Concerning the spiritual government 24. Are there confessors appointed for each house according to c. 518, § i? 25. Without prejudice to the constitutions which may pre-scribe or recommend that confessions be made at stated times to ap-pointed confessors, are the religious left free to go, in accordance with canon 519, without prejudice however to religious discipline, to a confessor approved by the local ordinary, even though he is not among the appointed confessors? 26. Are the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions faithfully observed regarding the appointment and reappoint-ment of the ordinary, extraordinary, special, and supplementary confessors (cc. 520, §§ 1-2, 521, 524, 526, 527)? 27. Did superioresses faithfully observe the prescriptions made for them regarding supplementary confessors (c. 521, § 3), occa- 256 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT sional confessors (c. 522), and confessors in case of grave illness (c. 523) ? 28. Do superiors take means and exercise a prudent vigilance to see that all the religious, according to law" (c. 595, § 1, 3,°) and the constitutions (c. 519), receive the sacrament of penance at least once a week? 29. Have superiors been guilty of any abuses, and if so what were they, by which the liberty of conscience of their subjects has been restricted (cc. 518, § 3, 519, 520, § 2, 521,§ 3, 522, 2414)? 30. Has there been, under pretext of.liberty of conscience, any detriment to religious discipline on the part of subjects? Did any other abuses arise? 31. Do superiors, in accordance with canon law (c. 530, §§ 1, 2) leave their subjects free in regard to making a strict mani-festation of conscience to them? 32. Is there an appointed chaplain, or have other provisions been made by sacred functions sufficient for the spiritual welfare of the religious? Are there any difficulties with regard to the spiritual welfare? 33. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 5'95, §§ 2-3, promote among their subjects frequent and even daily reception of the Most Sacred Body of Christ, always without prejudice to full liberty of conscience according to law (c. 595, § 4) and the instructioris of the Holy See? 34. Do superiors diligently see to it that confessors are easily available before Communion, and do they allow their religious sub-jects a suitable time for preparation and thanksgiving? 35. Do superiors see to it that, according to the constitutions and the common law, there are spiritual and catechetical instructions for the entire house (c. 509, § 2, 2°), for the novices (c. 565, § 2), for the conversi [lay brothers and lay sisters], for the domes-tics and servants .(c. 509, § 2, 2°) ? ARTICLE IV Concern[n9 fhe f[nanclal 9overnmenf 36. a) Did the house 'acquire any immovable property or precious movable property? What was the value of these acquisi-tions? b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gra-tuitous title, or by purchase, and in this latter case was it with the funds of the house or with borrowed money? 257 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Review for Religious 37. Has the house an inventory of its movable property, espe-cially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of art, his-tory, or material) (c. 1522, 2°) and of its immovable property? 38. When must these inventories be revised, and are they in fact revised? 39. By what method or in whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered? Can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law? 40. Were extraordinary expenses paid from their own ordi-nary or extraordinary income, or on the contrary with borrowed funds? 41. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable [i.e. consisting of capital funds], or precious, was alienated, and by what authority? 42. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by ex-perts, and the norms of the constitutions, observed? 43. Did the house consume any stable or founded property or capital funds? For what reasons and by what authority? 44. Are superiors making serious efforts to recover this prop-erty ? 45. a) What debts were contracted, and by whom? b) What debts are actually outstanding~ 46. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534? b) The precautions mentioned in c. 536, § 5? c) The norms of the constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the council, etc. ? 47. Was the interest on debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care being taken toward the gradual payment of the debt; or the amortization of the capital sum borrowed (c. 536, § 5)? 48. Are there any difficulties of an economic nature, and what are they ? 49. Is the administration of property conducted, not abitrar-ily, but according to the common law and the constitutions, under the direction and vigilance of the superior and of his council (cc. 516, § 2, 532, § 1)? 50. Was a clear and complete rendering of account demanded 258 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT of all and each of the bursars and administrators during the five-year period ? 51. Were there presented, together .with the accounts, the documents showing the expenditures and receipts? 52. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe? 53. Did superiors, councils, and administrators lawfully, safely, and profitably invest the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the constitutions (c. 533) ? 54. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully preserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the constitutions? 55. Do superiors, bursars, administrators conscientiously strive to have all the property of the institute religiously preserved and providently administered (c. 532, § 1)? 56. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted? 57. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rule~ of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the constitutions observed? 58. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, accord-ing to law and with the consent of the 16cal ordinary when that was required, invested (cc. 535,. §§ 1,. 2: 1547)' and separately and faithfully administered (cc. 535, § 3, 2°; 1546; 1549)? 59. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 151,4, 1549, § 2)? 60. Did visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfil-ment and an account of the administration of the property? 61. Did any religious, superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violaton of cc. 142, 592? 62. Were superiors and councils attentively watchful that, ac-cording to c. 1539, § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading was avoid-ed? 63. How did superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of tbe house (c. 536, § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536, § 3) ? 64. Do superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion for litiga-tion in the canonical or civil courts, everything is done exactly ac- 259 QUINQUENNIAL" "R EPOR.T Review for Religious cording to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guarantee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (c. 1529)? 65. How are the economic needs of the monastery provided for: by the labor of the community or by alms? 66. What, if any, activity does the community engage in for its own support? CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE 67. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the monastery? Does harmony exist among the different classes and is fraternal charity observed among them? 68. What is the actual number of those professed of tempo-rary vows and of perpetual vows, according to the various classes? 69. Besides the persons who belong to the institute or society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members? 70. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security? 71. Are there any legitimately approved statutes for them? ARTICLE I Concerning the admission, formation, and profession or incorporation of members 72. Is the condition of the extern sisters regulated according to the statutes promulgated by the S. Congregation on 3uly 16, 19317 73. Are the postulantships properly conducted according to law in the novitiate house (c. 540, § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540) ? 74. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by the constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged? If so,~for how long a time and by what authority? 75. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations? 76. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the in-crease or diminution of vocations? 77. What are the obstacles which aspirants most frequently have to overcome in order to follow th~ir vocation? 260 September, 195"4 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 78. Were the documents required by the 'common law (c. 544) and by the constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant? 79. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local ordinaries and are prescribed for all (c. 544, § 2) ? b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the rector or major superior fo~ those who have been in a seminary or a college which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious institute (c. 544, §3)? c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case.of clerics and professed religious (c. 544, §§ 4, 5) ? 80. Besides the documents and testimonials which are spe-cially prescribed by law or by the constitutions, were further infor-mations which seemed necessary or useful in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants diligently sought (c. 544, § 6)? 8 I. From what impediments¯ or defects, if any, of the common or particular law, were dispensations granted? How often and by what authority was this done? 82. Were aspirants always admitted by the competent su-periors, according to the prescriptions of the law (c. 543) ? 83. Is the right of the institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship given in the constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement? 84. Who determines the amount to be paid? 85. How many novices are there at present? 86. Did each and every novice have a complete copy of the constitutions from the beginning of the novitiate? 87. Are ~he novices, according to law and the constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564, § 1, 2) ? 88. Did each and every novice before profession make a com-plete and continuous canonical year of noviceship, without counting the first day, in a novitiate house lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a master (cc. 555, § 1, 556, 557) ? 89. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the 261 QUINQUEN.NIAL REPORT Review for Religio. us limits fixed by law (c. 571, §2) and the constitutions? If so, for how long a time and by w.hat authority was this done? 90. Was there always in the novitiate a master of novices duly appointed or elected (c. 560) ? 91. Have the novice master and his socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559, § 1, 2) and the cgnstitutions, or did dispensations have to be asl~ed for" and obtained ? 92. A~ the master and socius free from all offices and minis-~ tries in or out of the house which might interfere with their care a'nd direction of the novices( c. 559, § 3)? 93. Did all the novices, according to c. 569, § 1, before the first profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration, and either cede or dispose of the use and usufruct, of their propett~y? 94. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition were n6t:':duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, were they made or completed after the profession (c. 569, § 2)? 95. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession made always in accordance with c. 580, § 37 96. Did the novices of the monasteries of simple vows, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due.: form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569, § 3)? 97. Were any changes in this will which may have been made after profession, made according to c. 583, 2°? . .: 98. Do the superior and council carefully and constan.tly keep-a strict watchfulness as regards admissions? ¯ 99. Has the first profession, after eight 'full .days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575)? 100. Did the superioresses, two months before admission to the noviceship, and to the first temporary profession, and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local ordinary (c. 552, § 1), so that he or his delegate might gratuito.usly conduct the canonical-ex-amination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552, § 2)?. : 101. Was the prescribed examination always made? ' 102. Is the dowry obligatory, or, on the contrary, is it left en-. tirely or partly optional (c. 547, § 3) ? 262 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT . 103. Was the delivery of .the dowry made according to law (c. 547, § 2) and the constitutions? 104. Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the superioress, with the deliberative vote of her council and the consent of the ordinary of the place where the capi-tal of the dowries is kept (c. 549) ? 105. Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way before the death of the religious concerned? If so, by what authority Was this done? Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it was done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance? What is their condition at the present time (c. 549) ? 106. Where and how are the dowries administered? Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535, § 2)? 107. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the constitutions or even though there be in ihe congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries? 108. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever was needed that she might safely and decently return borne and likewise the personal belongings which t.he novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring~ without the in-come which had a.lready accrued (cc. 551, 570, § 2)? 109. In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the insti-tute out of charity according to law (c. 643, § 2), give her what-ever was needed thatshe might safely and decently return home and be fittingly supported for a tim~? 110. What, if any, dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows? 111. How many and what sanations-were afterward necessary? 112. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the constitutions (c. 574, § 1), when the tittle for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577, § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577, § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows? 113. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond 263 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieta for Religious the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574, § 2)? 114. ]Did all the professed of simple vows in orders, within sixty days before their profession of solemn vows, duly make the prescribed renunciation of the property which they actually pos-sessed, in the form of a true cession but not in the form of a will, to whomever they chose, on condition of their future profession (c. 581, § 1)? 115. After the profession was made, were all things immedi-ately done which were necessary in order that the renunciation be effective in civil law (c. 581, § 2) ? 116. Did the superior who received the solemn profession give notice of it to the pastor of baptism in accordance with cc. 470, § 2, 576', § 2? ARTICLE II Concerning the relicjious life and discipline 117. Is perfect common life according'to c. 594, the Rule, and the constitutions observed everywhere? 118. What has been done and is being done positively to safe-guard and promote the virtue and. spirit of poverty? 119. Do superiors and officials, out of religious charity and in order to ward off from the religious occasions of sinning against poverty, provide, within the limits of poverty itself, what is neces-sary and appropriate in the way of food, clothing, and other things? 120. Do they allow the religious to ask for or receive these things from externs? 121. Are the sick and the aged religious, attended to with special care and helped in both body and soul with paternal charity, so that, within the limits of religious poverty, they lack nothi'ng which seems necessary for the recovery ot their .health and for their spir-itual consolation? 122. Did all superiors make it a matter of conscientious duty to be attentively vigilant regarding those things, both in and out of the house, which may easily contain dangers against religious chas-tity ? 123. What kind of cloister is observed? Are the places subject to cloister clearly marked and sufficiently guarded? Are the pre-scriptions of the law and of the constitutions regarding cloister faithfully observed (cc. 589-599; 604) ? 264 ~epte,-nber, 124. frequent, principal 125. 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Were the cases of dispensation from the law of cloister either for going but,- or for entering? Which were the ones? Are difficulties experienced in the observance of cloister, esl~ecially when nuns~ are engaged in the works of the apostolate, of education, etc. ? 126. a) Are the parlors so arranged that what goes on in them ~an be seen from the outside? b) Is the frequency of parlor visits regulated according to the constitutions and religious prudence? 127. Do the rooms which are reserved for chaplains and confeS-sors or preachers have a separate entrance and no internal communi-cation with the quarters of the religious? 128. Is religious discipline observed, and is the,government of superiors made easy by the docility of the subjects? Was it neces-sary often to impose formal precepts in virtue of the vow of obedi-ence? 129. Were such precepts given in due form according to the 'constitutions, and always for a grave reason? 130. Are the Rule and the constitutions faithfully observed (c. 593) ? 131. Are the Rule and the constitutions read publicly at the prescribed times (c. 509, § 2, 1°) ? 132. Do superiors see to it that in all the houses the exercises of piety which are prescribed for every day, every week, every month, every year, or for other fixed times, are faithfully and worthily per-formed according to the constitutions? 133. Do superiors see to it that all the religious: a) Make a retreat every year? b) ,Are present at Mass every day if not legitimately pre-vented ? c) Give themselves to mental prayer every day? d) Attend earnestly to the other offices of piety which are prescribed by the rules and constitutions (c. 595, § 1, 1 ° and 2°) ? 134. Do superiors see to it that all the members are able to be present at community exercises? 135. If choir service is prescribed by the constitutions, is it held exactly and worthily in each of the houses according to the same constitutions and the common law (c. 610, § i), the religious who are bound to choir and not actually lawfully impeded being present? 265 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 136. Do superiors see to it that priests, clerics in major orders, and the solemnly professed, who were absent from choir, recite the Divine Office privately with attention and devotion (c. 610, § 3) ?. 137. Are the relations between the different members of the house, between superiors and subjects, etc., characterized by a spirit of true charity? 138. Are defects against charity severely corrected? 139. Are superiors watchful that no book~ be used, whether in manuscript or published form, which are not entirely safe? 140. Are the spiritual books which, according to law, the reli-gious use privately, approved by the Church and in keeping with the religious state, and suitable for the spiritual welfare of the indi-vidual ieligious to whom they are permitted? ARTICLE III Concernincj those Who have departed or been dismissed and others who leave the institute 141. a) How many in the house, at the expiration of their. vows, did not renew them, either because they chose not to do so or because they were not allowed to do so? b) How many of the professed of temporary vows were dispensed from their vows during this period, and how many of the professed of perpetual vows were dispensed? 142. Were those who were dispensed from their vows at their own request or with their consent, forced or, without serious and grave reasons and precautions, permitted to leave the religious house before the rescript was duly executed? 143. How many transfers, if any, were there to another insti-tute ? 144. How many apostates and fugitives, if any, were there during the five-year period? 145. a) Since the last report, how many of the professed of temporary vows and how many of the professed of perpetual vows have been dismissed? b) In the dismissal of religious, whether of" temp~[ary or of perpetual vows, were the norms of the common law "('cd." 647, § 2, 4°; 649-672) as well as those of the constitutions observed? Was the same done in regard to not admitting the prqfe~se~l 0f ~emporary vows to the renewal of their vows or to perpetu~il pro-fession (c. 637) ? 266 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT. 146. Were the dismissed of 'temporary vows, while the recourse duly made within ten days was pending (c. 647, § 2; S. C. of Reli-gious, 20 July 1923, AAS, XV [1923], 457), and the dismissed of perpetual vows, before the decree or judgment of dismissal had been confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cc. 652, 666). forced to leave the institute? 147. What were the cases, and the causes which led to them,, among both the professed of temporary vows and those of per-petual vows, in which they were either sent back to the world on account of grave scandal or very grave harm (cc. 653, 668) or dis-missed by the law itself :(c. 646) ? 148. How many ~ses of exclaustration were there, if any? Were the causes carefull) and conscientiously pondered in the pres-ence of God before the petition was recommended and the rescript executed ? 149. Does the institute take care: a) That indults are renewed in due time, if it seems neces-sary to ask for an extension? b) That the persons who are excloistered lead a worthy religious life and return as soon as possible to the cloister? 150. Do superiors see to it that subjects remain out of the house only for a just and grave reason and for the shortest possible time, according to the constitutions (c. 606, § 2) ? 151. Were 'the prescribed suffrages faithfully and promptly per-formed for all the deceased? " " 152. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 509, § 2, 2°, give to those religious who belong to the class of conversi, instruction in Christian doctrine? And do superiors, carefully attend to the training of these same religious, both before and after their profes-sion, especially during the earlier years, according to the offices~ which are entrusted to them? 153. Do superiors with paternal charity diligently provide also for the bodily health of the conuersi or coadjutors? CHAPTER III C;ONI31:RNING THE WORKS AND MINISTRIES OF THE MONASTERY 154. What works are carried on in the house (apostolate, edu-cation, manual labor for pay) ? 155. Was begging from door to door, according to law 267 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieu2 for Religious (cc. 621, 622) and their own constitutions, done with the required permissions ? 156. Moreover, in begging, were the rules of law (c. 623), the instructions of the Holy See (c. 624), and the norms of the con-stitutions observed ? 157. What precautions are taken in this communication with seculars to avoid harm to the religious and scandal to seculars? 158. How often and by what superiors are the books of Masses of each house examined and signed? 159. As regards the manual stipend of~ Masses, did all the houses obser;ce the decrees of the local ordinaries and the customs of the dioceses according to cc. 831, §§ 2-3; 832? 160. In each of the houses were the obligations of Masses, both perpetual and manual, faithfully satisfied in due time according to cc. 834, 15177 161. Were any special concessions made in this matter, either as regards the reduction of the stipends or intentions, or as to deferring the celebration of the Masses? If so, what were they? CONCLUSION A ~summary compara÷ive judcjmenf recjardln9 fhe stale of fhe monas.fery 162. Is the autonomous monastery or house fully self-sufficient with regard to the personnel needed to fill the various offices of gov-ernment and to carry out its proper work, also with regard to relig-ious formation, as well' as with regard to economic means, so that regular observance can flourish fully? 163. What is to be said about the desire for and the actual striving toward evangelical perfection on the part of the members (cc. 487, 488, 1°) ? 164. In this respect is there in the institute progress.or retro-gression as compared with the preceding five-year period, and how is this manifested or proved? What are the reasons for either the progress or the retrogression? 165. What has been done by superiors during the five-year period to promote the tendency toward perfection and to prevent relaxation? 166. What is to be said summarily about the observance of the: vows and of the provisions of canon law, the Rule, 'and the consti-tutions, both absolutely and in comparison with the preceding five- 268 September, 1954 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS year period ? 167. What are the points of religious discipline which are more easily and frequently violated? I68. What causes may be assigned for the progress in religious observance or for its decline? 169. What has been done by superiors to secure faithful and ~omplete regular observance? 170. As regards capital and finances what is the condition of the house in itself and in comparison v~ith the preceding five-year period ? 171. To what causes is the growth or diminution of capital and income to be attributed ? Given at Rome; from the headquarters of the S. Congregation ~of Religious, December 9, 1948. ALOYSIUS CARD. LAVITRANO, Prefect FR. L. H. PASSETTO, Secretaru REGIONAE CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS 1954-55 OF THE CATHOLIC: HOSPITAL AssoCIATION This year's program includes eight such special conferences., The first general subject, The Improvement of Patient Care, is pre-sented for religious in large hospitals on October 4 to 6,.1954, at the Sheraton Hotel,'St. Louis, Missouri. For religious in small hospitals another regional workshop on this subject will be presented Novem-ber 28 to 30, 1954, also at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis. Conferences on Medical-Moral Problems are also planned. These special group meetings are presented under the direction of Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J., of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, con-sultant for the Association's activity in this field. The first is to takd place at St. Michael's Hospital, Grand Forks, North Dakota, October 25 to 27, 1.954. Two others are in the process of development--one for the East. ¯ and another to be held in the Mid-West. Further announcement will be made when this information .is available. On January 17, 18, and 19, 1955, at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis, Missouri, there will be a Special Conference for Treasureis (Continued on page 272) ¯, o 269 Questions and Answers 26 Suppose a sister can hear only one Mass on Sunday and during thai' Mass she performs her duty of saying her morning prayer or reading the, Liffle Office: is it possible to fulfill both th~se obligations at one and the same time, according to the mind of the Church? As regards merely the fulfillment of the diverse obligations, there seems to be no difficulty. Even the serious obligation (e.g., of a deacon or subdeacon) of reciting the Divine OtSce in private can be fulfilled while one is hearing a Mass of obligation. Certainly, there-fore, the sister's lesser duties of saying morning prayers or of recit-ing the Little Office can be fulfilled during a Mass of obligation-- unless the constitutions expressly provide otherwise. The "mind of the Church" for religious includes more than the mere fulfillment of obligations; it includes not only what is neces-sary but~ what is appropriate. And in the sense of what is appropri-ate it is certainly the mind of the Church that the prayers prescribed for religious, even when the prescription does not bind under pain of sin, should ordinarily be said at some time other than the 'Sunday Mass of obligation or the weekday community Mass. The saying of such prayers during these Masses should at most be merely by way of exception, e.g., because of the special pressure of other duties. And it seems to us that in these exceptional cases it would be better to follow the Mass in the usual way and to omit the other prayers. If conditions become such that tl'iis "pressure pf other duties" is habitual and not merely exceptional, then superiors should see to it that these ~otber duties are lessened so that their subjects have time for their prayers: --27m If one is rushed at confession time and in the confusion fails to make an act of contritlon.in.the confessional, is the confession invalid? True contrition is certainly necessary for valid absolution; and' according to most theologians some external manifestation of this contrition is also required for validity. But this external manifesta-tion of contrition does not have to be according to any .set formula,. nor does it even have to be expressed in words. A dolorosa confes- 270 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sio--tbat is, confession itself when sincerely made with a view to receiving absolution by one who, has internal sorrow-~-is~a suffi'cient external sign of the contrition; and absolution given to one who has made such a confession is certainly valid. It is true that we should always train the faithful to make a verbal act of contrition in the confessional, after having confessed their sins. But the making of this verbal act is rather a matter of good procedure--and for some people a means of being sure ot: the requisite expression of sorrow--than an absolute essential As for the case proposed in the question: we would tell any sin-cere religious or devout lay person that the absolution was undoubt-. edly valid and tbat there is no reason for anxiety. --28-- Is a sister superior justified in insisting that her subjects must not drink water before Holy C;ommunion unless there is some real necessity for doincj so? Accordin~ to the ApOstolic Constitution Christus Dominus plain water no longer breaks the Eucharistic fast. No reason either of nec_essity or even of special utility is required for drinking water before Holy Communion. Consequently, a religious superior is no more justified now in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity after midnight than she would have been justified before .3anuary 16, 1953, in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity before midnight. m29D Is it ever permissible to receive Hob/ Gommunlon without flrs~ cjo[ncj to confession when one has committed a mortal sin? Canon 856 states that one who is conscious of having committed a mortal sin shouldnot receive'Holy Communion without first go-ing to confession. This is the ordinary rule. The canon adds, bow-ever, that in a case of urgent necessity, when there is no opportunity of going to confession, one may receive Holy Comunion after having made an act of perfect contrition. There are many aspects to this question; and all of them require careful explanation. For such explanation the questioner is referred to the article "Confession befo*re Communion," in REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, XII (May, 1953), 135-50. : 271 Q~JESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~;iew lot Religious --30-- /. If one is in doubt about having given the consent necessary-'for a mortal sin, is it preferable to abstain from Holy Communion until one can get to confession? Generally speaking, it is not preferable.to omit Holy commun-ion; although it might be preferable in some cases, e.g., b~cause a person has a special proneness to laxity. The proper judge c~f such a case is the spiritufil director or confessor of that person. Although it is certainly not obligatory and generally not even preferable to omit Holy Communion because of a do.ubt; yet it is at least advisable--and in our opinion obligatory--for one who has d really solid doubt (and not a mere scruple) about having committed a mortal sin to take some reasonable means of making sure he is in the state of grace before he receives Holy Communion. In the case proposed in the question a reasonable means would be to make an act of perfect contrition for all one's sins, including the doubtful matter. This problem of doubt is also explained more fully in the article referred'to in the preceding question, pp. 139-40. Regional Conferences and Workshops (Continued from page 269) and General Accountants of Religious Groups Conducting Hospi: tals. This particular meeting is especially planned by the Assoda-tion's Council on Financial Management and will focus upon poli-cies, techniques, and procedures involved in the handling of financial affairs of these groups. Other meetings for special groups have also been scheduled. These include a Conference on Collegiate Programs in Nursing Edu-cation at the Sheraton Hotel, St. Louis, February 19 to 21, 1955; a Conference on Accounting for Administration (especially for the small hospital) at the Hotel Piedmont, Atlanta, Georgia, April 18 to 19, 1955; the Western Conference of Catholic Hospitals is spon-soring a Workshop on Purchasing for Hospital Purchasing Officers on April 23 to 24, 1955, at St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco: also a Conference on Public Relations for Administrators and Public Rela2 tions Officers of Catholic Hospitals--April 23 to 24, 1955, also St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco, California. 272 THE NEW TESTAMENT. By James A. Klelst, S.J., and Joseph M. Lilly, C.M. The Bruce Publlshln9 Co., Milwaukee. 1954. Pp. bg0. $5.00. The work of Fathers Kleist and Lilly as presented in this book is a marked example of the progress which Scriptural studies in general and New Testament efforts in particular have made in the last fifty years. A quarter of a century ago, appreciating the ad~ vances scholarship had made in the study of the post-classical Greek language as well as in Hellenistic civilization, Father Kleist surmised that the gospels translated from the Greek of that period might convey to the Christian reader a better understanding of Christ's life and message than could be derived from the more or less slavish ren-dition from the Latin Vulgate into quite antiquated English phrase-ology which was' all.tbat the Catholic reader had; he considered that such a translation would afford Catholics the opportunity, in a prac-tical way, of realizing the hope whicb the Church was expressing-- namely that her members should read the Bible more assiduously. He set himself to that task, and the result of his labors makes up nearly half of the present volume. The gospel translation is in clear, flowing, modern literary Eng-lish; it conveys the G/~eek thought accurately. To achieve this ac-curacy the translation interprets the meaning of words and phrases, uses synonyms for the same Greek word to bring out the shades of thought, employs expressions which do not require the learning of a theologian or of an expert exegete to grasp. The word pneutna, for example, is not always translated by "spirit" and the passages in which this word occurs are so well phrased that no commentary is required to explain them. Thus: "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mr. 5:3) becomes, "Blessed are the humble souls"; "And sighing deeply in spirit" (Mk. 8:12) becomes, "He sighed from the depths of his soul"; "When Jesus saw the Jews weeping .he grbaned in spirit and was troubled" (Jo. 11:33) becomes, "The sight of them stirred Jesus deeply and shook his inmost soul." There is a pleasing, natural ease, simplicity, and spontaneity throughout the translation. Christ's Words are not, "Woman, thou art delivered from thy in-firmity" (Lk. 13:12), but, "My good woman, you are now rid of your infirmity." Notabl.yhappy is the rendition of 3o. 3:8 which, 273 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious instead of, "So is everyone who is born of the Spirit," reads, "Some-thing like this takes place in everyone born of the Spirit." What~- ever notes are appended to the gospels are the work of Rev. Henr~; Willmering, S.J., New Testament professor at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The notes are always pointed, clear, concise. All the rest of the translation in this volume is the product of Father Lilly. Emboldened by the various encyclicals on Biblical studies from Leo XIII to Pius XII, his experience as a seminary" professor ot: Sacred Scripture indicating the need of a good transla-tion from the Greek, Father Lilly generously undertook to do all the rest of the New Testament, a task which Father Kleist had said he would never venture to do~ Father Lilly succeeded admirably in his efforts. He concentrated his best energies on the letters of the Apos-tles; only secondarily did he give consideration to the narrative of the Acts of the Apostles. The result is that this narrative does not vary in any notable way from the Confraternity translation, for the phraseology of the two translations is often identical. But in the letters and in the Apocalypse, Father Lilly took greater liberty to clarify the meaning of the texts. A few instances of his excellent work may be here cited: "Who have the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh," he expresses as, "The patriarchs are theirs, and from them has been derived the human nature of Christ" (Rom. 9:3). The less intelligible wording of "the work of each will be made manifest, for the day of the Lord will declare. it, since the day is to be revealed in fire. The fire will assay the quality of everyone's work: if his work abides which he has built thereon, he will receive reward; if his work burns he will lose his. reward, but himself will be saved, yet so as through fire" (1 Cor. 3:13-15) is clarified thus: "Each individual's work will be made manifest. The day will make it known because fire will lay it bare, and will test the quality of each individual's work. If the work any-one has put into the superstructure stands firm, he will be rewarded, but if anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer a loss, yet he him-self will be saved, though only by passing, so to speak, through fire." Simple sentences and expressions are expertly turned. Apoc. 4:2 may serve as one example: "Immediately I was in the spirit, and behold there was a throne in heaven," gets this phrasing: "Suddenly I was thrown into an ecstacy. To my surprise, there was a throne set up in heaven." This book is the latest and till~ now the best product of a happy I 27.4 September, 1934 BOOK REVIEWS tendency to which New Testament studies have been yielding in recent years amongst Catholic'English-speaklng scholars. It is a co-ordinated result of two lines of modern effort: to translate from tile Greek rather than from the Latin ~Vulgate, and secondly, to make the translations interpretative rather than rigidly literal. In 1901 Father Seymour Hobart Spencer, O.P., laid a milestone when he translated the four gospels from the Greek; before he died in 1913 he had finished the entire New Testament. Not until 1937, how-ever, was his entire opus published for the first time. Leo XIII's Providentissimus Deus lent spark to this line of effort, and in the 1930s the Westminster Version of the New Testament from the Greek appeared. Both Father Spencer, however, and the Westminster translators employed a prudent restraint in their venturesome task. They kept themselves considerably constrained and adhered largely to literalness in their translations. Yet there was a kind of restiveness arising amongst scholars to offer a translation which would be quite sufficiently interpretative and would' not require much comment of exegetes to explain the meaning of the text. This restiveness began to assert itself in the 1940s. It chose as the object on which it could exercise itself the Latin Vulgate and the reason for this choice was that the more in- .terpretative translation could be read at the Catholic church services. In 1941 the Confraternity translation of the New Testament ap-peared in the United States, and its purpose was rather to modernize antiquated expressions than to translate with the freedom which interpretation requires; but three years later Msgr. Ronald Knox published his work in England with a freedom and ease of phrase-ology hitherto unemployed, modestly interpreting the meaning of the Vulgate. Both these translations, as well as those from the Greek mentioned above, were quite well accepted generally, though in cer-tain circles they did suffer severe criticism. There was something of heroism, tberefore, in carrying out to completion the present work, since this volume, no doubt, will be criticized for precisely the two characteristics which make it a sign of true advancement in .scholarship: it is a translation from the Greek; it is made with a considerable amount of freedom to express in an interpretative Catholic way what the inspired authors of the New Testament are trying to say. The book seems to be a must in the libraries of theologians, scholars, exegetes, priests, and laymen who are" interested in understanding the New Testament. It is not, 275 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious however, the last product of the trend from which it evolved. Some future translator from the Greek may interpert more easily and more clearly passages like 1 Cor. 7:29-35; 9:24-27; 10:29 and 30; but that must await the time when Catholic readers will have become more adjusfed to having a clear, expository text before them to ponder. The present work will help toward that adjustment and is paving the way toward the entrance of the Word of God into the hearts of men.--EDWARD J. HODOUS, S.J. THE CHURCH AND INFALLIBILITY. By Dom B. C. Buffer. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. Pp. 230. $3.50. Back in 1889 Dr. George Salmon, Provost ok Trinity College, Dublin, published The Infallibility of the Church, a celebrated pole-mical work in which he vigorously attacked and in the minds of many contemporary Protestant readers thoroughly demolished the "Roman" position on the nature of infallibility, the primacy and infallible teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, and the legiti-macy if tradition as a font of divine revelation. Two years ago an abridged edition of this work came from the press, and it is in the hope of breaking a lance or two with the "abridged Salmon" that the Abbot of Downside, Dora Christopher Butler, a frequent and gifted contributor to The Downside Review, has e'ntered the lists with the book here under r'eview. It will be no surprise to those who know Dom Butler's profi2 ciency in the field of Patristics and Early Church History to dis-cover that in this altogether irenic rebuttal the Abbot of Downside has time after time driven home through the chinks in Dr. Salmon's armor, chinks that have been in not a few places widened consider-ably by the scientific findings and the more balanced historical eval- .uations of the past fifty years. If the work will prove an ornament to the apologetic section of the school or community library, it may still be said (and I think that Dom Christopher would be the first to agree) that the book is not intended as an organized positive ex-position of the Church's infallibility, its meaning, its necessity, its causes, its organs; nor despite its clarity of presentation and cogency of argumentation will it supply for such an exposition. The reader destined to profit most from the book will be the reader who has already a firm grip on the fundamental principles of the th.eology of the Church, her organization and doctrinal mission. -~S. E. DONLON, S.J: 2 6. September, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS MARY IN OUR LIFE. By William G. Most, Ph.D.P.J. Kenedy and Sons, New York. 19S4. Pp. 323. $4.00. Mar~l in our Life was first written as a series of chapters for Mariology study clubs at Loras College, where the author is associ-ate professor of classical languages. It has the double merit, there-fore, of being instructive in subject matter and at the same time per-sonal and direct in its manner of presentation. The body of the book is divided into twenty-three chapters of about ten pages each that range over a wide area of patristics, dogma, ascetics, and liturgy in their bearing on the general theme that "since God has given Mary an all-pervading place in His scheme for the redemption of man, it follows that if we wish to grow in love of God . . . we will give Mary a corresponding place in our soul-life." Chapter titles like The Popes and Co-redemptrix, Mary on Calvary, Mystical Rose, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Marian Visions and Revelations suggest the balance of doctrine and devotion which the writer set himself to achieve. The strictly dogmatic section cov-ers the first sixty-five pages, in which the main purpose is to analyse the recent papal statements on Mary's place in the economy of sal-vation. In the remaining fifteen chapters, the principles of the spiritual life are explained in their relation to the Mother of God as the perfect model of sanctity and the channel of all graces. The longest chapter in the book, Pondering in Our Hearts with Mary, is an earnest apologia for the practice of mental prayer among the laity, in imitation of the Blessed Virgin, "whose communion with God in mental prayer or meditation was constant." Eminently prac-tical, it is intended to answer the objection that "Formal meditation may be all right for priests and religious, but how could a working man or woman or a housewife manage to undertake so complex an exercise?" Each chapter is followed by a set of notes, up to several pages in length, which give the sources for the quotations used and further explanation of various problems in the text. Particularly commendable is the frequent use of primary sources, e.g., from the Fathers, papal documents, and writings of the saints. By actual count, there are 530 reference notations, with an emphasis on mod-ern writers such as Garrigou-Lagrange. The latter part of the book contains an Appendix and a set of Questions for Discussion. The Appendix supplies a certain amount of documentary detail that was properly omitted from the body of the book, for example, a llst of passages from the Fathers on the 277 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious New Eve, papal texts on the question of Mary's Co-redemption of the human race, St. Dominic as author of the Rosary, and the his-toricity of the vision of St. Simon Stock. The Questions for Dis-cussion are intended for private, class, or study-dub use. Approxi-mately two hundred questions, answerable from the text, are pointed to arousing ~houghtful reflection: for instance, "Did Mary merit to be the Mother of God? . . . Is devotion to Mary optional?" As an instance of the mature balance which characterizes the en-' tire book may be cited the treatment of Marian Visions and Revela-tions. With scores of possible pitfalls, the author carefully dis-tinguishes the meaning and necessity of private and public revela-tion, explaining that "ali the means that we need for salvation are contained in public revelation." Some people, he complains, practi-cally identify their devotion to the Mother of God with recounting the stories of visions and revelations. "On the other hand, through the right attitude we can derive great value from the messages given to us by Our Lady in such genuine apparitions as those at Lourdes and Fatima," whose genuinity is attested by the Church's official ap-proval.-- JOHN A. HARDON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. The Catholic College in the World Today. By Edward A. Fitzpatrick. The author, retiring president of Mount Mary College, here weaves into book form a series of addresses about Catholic col-lege education. He stresses the opportunity of the Catholic college to leaven present-day American culture with the riches of Catholic cul-ture, particularly its emphasis on moral and spiritual values and its focus on the importance of the individual. He looks to crusading graduates to assume their manifest duty to carry out this mission. Pp. 269. $6.00. His Heart in Our Work. Thoughts for a Priestl~t Apostolate. Edited by Francis L. Filas, S.J. This book is a collection of articles selected from Alter Christus, the periodical published from 1937 to 1950 as an American quarterly bulletin of The League of Sacerdotal Sanctity. Although the essays here presented were originally meant for priests, to provide them with material for meditation and with exhortation in their work, still they will benefit religious .and others 278 September: 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as well. The brevity of the articles (few run over five pages) and the pleasing variety of subjects included (Holy Spirit, Sacred Heart, B1. Virgin, St. Joseph, Apostolate, Prayer, Virtues, Liturgy) m