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Issue 44.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1985. ; Expectations of CommUnity Inculturation A Theology of Death and Grief The Discernment of Ministry: a Process Volume 44 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1985 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (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 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIG|OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EVlEW FOR R ELtqtOUS~ Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write R EV1EW FOR RELIGtOUg P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1985 Volume 44 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW t-'on RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis Martin O'Reilly, C E C. This article by Brother O'Reilly, Formation Director for his community in Liberia and Sierra Leone was originally prepared as a position paper undertaken in connection ,with the development of a novitiate program for West Africans seeking to join his community. Brothe,r may be addressed care of the Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia. It is difficult to name what'is a~tually done in religious formation. Although the enterprise has a recognizable history dating back at least to the time of St. Benedict, when we raise the question: What are we doing when we form others to be religious? there is little consensus about the nature of the activity. A more abstract question, .such as: What is Religious IJfe? might be more easily answered. But religious formation is not an ahistorical abstraction. - It is a practical activity. Men and women enter religious communities, and other men and women are "sent" to form them. Formation, as such, does not exist, there is only what people do, and want to do, in its name. This article will consist of a brief survey.of the principle approaches to religious formation current today, anda proposed tentative defintion of formation that gives equal weight to the past, present and future dimensions of a religious community. Although theory will not provide simplistic answers to such questions as: "When do we give the habit?" it does provide a basis for ascertaining whether one's practices are consistent with one's beliefs and for understanding how new insights and differing circumstances may modify existing practices. Perennialist Conception of Religious Formation The ."perennialist" position, exemplified by much of pre-Vatican II 1101 1~02 / Review for Religious, November-Dec.ember, 1985 religious formation, is based mainly on the authoritative position of the "formator" as the person entrusted with the task of instructing others in the perennial truths of religious life. The relationship of formator and those being "formed" is in the context of master and pupils. The person who is responsible for formation is very conscious of the expectations of those in higher authority that, certain permanent truths are being taught in a didac-tic manner. The principal model of instruction is that best described as "teaching." The starting point is usually the prescribed constitutions, the life of the founder or foundress, and the history of the congregation. The theoretical motivation for both formator and those being formed is in essence the same: he or she is to teach, and the novices are to learn. Of course, it is presumed that there are other factors operating, so that the novices' personal understanding of being religious is complemented by their actual life in community. The duties of a good religious are empha-sized in various ways: by being reminded of their personal responsibility for coming to know and accept their call from God through frequent conferences; by being encouraged to be loyal to their formation group, and to be obedient at all times to those in authority. Besides regular prayer and Mass, numerous devotional exercises and retreat days ensure that a sense of piety is being fostered. It is quite natural that such an'approach to formation tends to emphasize the descriptive rather than the prescriptive elements of religious life. The value of much of its style and method is in its precision in indicating what has to be learned and understood about becoming a religious. But by the same token it is all too easy to produce a hothouse variety of religious who, vocation-wise, wither in the more temperate zones of regular and imperfect community life. Such an approach can fail to distinguish sufficiently between the precepts of the religious life and the vocational growth and development of those in formation, with the result that conformity is substituted for free response. This is not to say that the perennialist approach is altogether unsatisfac-tory. Many outstanding religious have come through such an initiation into religious life. For those who have come from devout Christian homes, such a formation style undoubtedly offers a security and an initial certainty that religious life is for them. But however beneficial such a model of formation may be for some, it can only be unrealistic in relation to those coming from a secularized background,,or who live in a situation where the Church herself is still very young. Essentialist Conception of Religious Formation The essentialist position, as represented by ReneCarpentier, holds that Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1103 the .religious life is "above all things a life, a Christian life, a life based on the Gospel and one with the Church."1 Carpentier's work in Belgiumin the 1950s convinced him that the obligations of religious life seemed to be treated as ends in themselves. There was very little Good News about the religious life~ He therefore advocated a return to the sources of religious life, viz. Christ, the Church, and the Scriptures. The biggest challenge offered by Carpentier to religious formators was for them to underpin their work with a genuine theology of religious life: ~It is not enough to show them the religious state as a life apart, closed in oh itself and "withdrawn from the world." It is to the religious life, within the Church, that our Lord's words may be applied: "You are the light of the world." We must show its relationships with .the Church and the world, and with salvation and sanctificati6n of all men. We must have recourse to a "theol6gy" of~ the religious life,2 Advocates of the essentialist approach to formation work concentrate on imparting an understanding of religious life as a living out of the ¯ "essential" Christian ideals. The emphasis placed upon providing a gcriptu-ral and theological rationale for religious life gives an intellectual flavor to formation, and casts the formator in a "lecturer" role as opposed to the perennialist "master-pupil" approach. Because essentialist formators share the belief that religious formation is largely a matter of intellectual training, the interests and needs of those in formation are of limited value for determining the nature and content of the foniiation program. While essentialism gives a needed, firm intellectual underpinning to religious formation, it is largely an adult concept, which in turn requires a certain adult ability to view reality in a holistic fashion. Many in such a formation program, however, fail to see the relevance to their own lives of courses in Scripture, theology, church history and liturgy.' The problem with this approach, as with the perennialist pathway, is that it is character-~ ized by what can be called a "pedagogy of. object" i.e., the models of learning it relies upon are almost exclusively concerned with handing on the.charism of religious life, which itself is taken as an unchanging and universally understood aim. Admittedly, the essentialist approach looks more towards the dynamic nature of the Christian life to provide the context for ~understanding the nature of the religiouS vocation, but it underplays the aspects of the "present" and "future" of society, the Church, religious life, and the persons themselves who are preparing for religious profession. Existential Conception of Religious Formation The keynote of the existential approach is basically its concern with the 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 subject io be formed in his or her actual life situation. The words which characterize this approach are sincerity, dynamic', commitment; relevance, authenticity, choice,freedom, and experience. For those who look at for-mation. in this way, the key to .human and Christian living is the continuing choice of an "authentic" way of life. lnauthenticity means taking shelter behind the routines, the trivialities and the morally undemanding patterns of everyday life. ,To be authentic means to acknowledge basic moral chal-lenges, to be open to the ambiguities and contradictions of life, and to respond to them by committing oneself afresh to the values one perceives to be at the heart of a meaningful existence. Religious life, in the existentialist sense, is viewed and understood asan expression of the life of faith, and so must find its verification in real life. If it is not to be a dead faith, it must be acted out in deeds. For the existential-ist, it is the motivation, not the forms, of religious life that differentiates the religious vocation from that of others. In practice a formator schooled .in existentialist thinking will give prom-inence to discussion methods as the way of learning, and will emphasize the importance of the differences in the life situation of each candidate in his or her personal response to the call of religious life. A greater measure of freedom will be extended in various ways to those being formed, and the view will be encouraged that both formator and those in formation are engaged in a common enterprise of discerning the personal and social significance of the vowed life. Constitutions and histories of the congrega-tion will have only a limited role in an approach such as this. They may serve as reference or guideline, but hardly as a starting point. Emphasis therefore will tend to be much more on a diversity of sources--literature, films, music and newspapers--indeed all the sources of. information encountered in ordinary.living. There will be a fundamental sense in which it is important not to be specific about particular means of being a religious, because what is being described arises from the life-situations of those concerned. Without doubt the existen.tiai approach makes being involved in reli-gious formation a very creative and personally satisfying experience. Con-cern for the giftedness and insights of those entering religious life had rarely been present in the previous history of religious formation. Sadly these insights had been largely subordinated to the immediate needs and interests of the congregation, and formation was more often than not more a training or domesticating than a forming. The existential pathway, on the contrary, asks the formator to believe that he or she is living and praying with people who are alread3; under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The chief problem ~vith this approach to formation arises from the fact Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 805 that the breadth of it provides no clue as to the kinds of experiences that properly should be provided by a formation community. The implication is that., since each candidate's experience of life is unique, each one must have his or her own formation program. Faith and well-meaning, however, are insufficient to fill the vacuum created by the abandonment of a well-de-fined initiation process. It was Dewey who said that when personal fulfill-ment is severed from intellectual activity, "freedom of self-expression turns into something that might better be called 'self-exposure'.''3 Furthermore, when too much emphasis is placed on the "inner search for meaning" of those in formation, the past heritage of a religious congregation can easily be forgotten, and responsibility for 'the future ignored; hence the shared vision that binds a group together can also become lost. ° Socialization Conception of Religious Formation The title of this approach may seem odd, for there has always been a strong community basis to formation in the sense that those being formed have lived, worked and played together in preparation for the time when they would join the wider community of the congregation. Indeed one of the important prerequisites for profession was "suitability for community life." But here the .term "socialization" is being used in a special sense, that of a planned, intensive~group experience involving both professed and nonprofessed members. The rationale behind,this approach is that "what-ever happens to the individual happens to the whole group, and whatever happens to the whole group happens to the individual." Quite simply a novice or one in formation can only say "I am a religious" because we are a :religious family. Ira founding charism is most present in the lived reality of a religious community, then'it is within a community that formation must happen. "Community-centered formation" is not .the same as ''formation within a community." The former consists of a group of professed religious and prospective members open to the challenge of living and growing together; the latter is more often thannot a convenient arrangement for housing those in formation within a regular community, with perhaps one or two helping the formator in'his ministry. The difference between the two con-cepts is that with the first one the formation of new members is a community "event," whereas With the other, formation is a "territory" clearly demar-cated from the ordinary life of the community. The core group of the formative community is made up of religious who are prepared to share their own personal and collective story of faith; to witness in an open way, to the meaning of their congregation's charism; to support those in initial formation in a bro.therly manner and to pray 1106 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 with and for them. The neophytes in turn are invited to "come and see" the charism and mission of the group by sharing in the common life, prayer and work of the community. This "shared praxis" approach supposes less of the presence o1: the person responsible for formation as the sole authority, and more of his presence as guide~in a fraternal network of relations~ This role of the formator means that often the work of formation will remain open-ended, ¯ that is, it is not pushed through to a predetermined conclusion for the sake of a conclusion. Whilst the main emphasis, as with the existential approach, i~ experiential rather than instructional in any formal sense, the open-community situation makes it more likely that the whole aspect .of religious life is approached in a multidimensional way. Close living, with professed religious aff?rds opportunities for the experiencing of the living charism of a congregation that no "single-parent" type. of situation consisting of one formator and the formation group can possibly provide. Conversely, having new members live with professed religious can add life and vitality to the local community, and can challenge the older brethren to look anew at the values that underpin their lives. Such an approach to formation may be successful with mature candi-dates, but it can be a wholly different story with the younger or more immature types. When formation is expected to arise from the dynamic interaction of a community, things can go badly wrong if a good number of the group are incapable, either because of upbringing or inclination, of accepting their responsibility for and accountability to others~ Not to believe that there, will be a need for "tough love" at .times, and a good d~al of personal coachingof members in the art of living together as a religious family, is to assume too romantic a view of human nature. Finally, when everyone is theoretically responsible for the formation of new members, it can quickly become the practice that no one is responsible, and people are left to hope that the newer members "get the hang of religious life" in time--a sort of formation by osmosis! 12on¢lusion Whether religious formators choose to define formation as the handing on of the perennial truths of their congregations" story or.as a radical ,living of the Christian life, as an inner search for ,meaning or as an intensive group experience, they are providing only a partial description of the term "formation.'2 Conversely, if we conceive of formation as all those growth experiences, under the auspices of a religious congregation, that ~contribute to the deepening awareness of what it means to be a religious, the definition is so broad that it fails to indicate how a planned formation program Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1~07 differs from an informal spontaneous arrangement where prospective. members learn directly from living in a religious community. If a definition of initial religious formation is to convey the full meaning of the term, it should be comprehensive while, at the same time, be sufficiently specific so that its key interacting elements are clearly conveyed. Taking these considerations into account, the following tentative defini-tion of religious formation is proposed: The planned and guided learning experience of religious life with intended learning outcomes, formulated through the systematic reconstruction of knowledge and experience, under the auspices of personnel suited to the task of aiding and evaluating a candidate's continuous growth in personal, social and spiritual competence. This definition regards religious life, and the ways of becoming a reli-gious, as dynamic. The formation process must account not only for the known dimensigns of a founding charism, but also for emergent under-standings. Consequently, religious formation is not concerned merely with transmitting the cumulative tradition of a religious congregation but also with the present dimension of a religious charism in relation to the life' experience of those seeking membership. Moreover, this definition recog-nizes that the future possibilities for the development of a charismatic religious community resides with those in formation today. NOTES ~l_zfe in the Oty of God. London: Burng & Oates, 1959, p. xi. 21bid, p. xii. 3John Dewey, How We Think, rev~ ed~, Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath & Company, 1933, 'p, 278. Even Discipline Has Its Season: Thomas Merton and Formation Today Thomas M. King; S.J. Father King has done extensive study and writing on Thomas Merlon. He is an Associate Professor of Theology at Georgetown University where he resides. The mailing address is: Jesuit Community; Georgetown University; Washington. DC 20057. Before he entered the Trappist Monastery of Gethsemani, Thomas Mer-ton wrote part of a novel that concerned a young man considering the priesthood. Like Merton himself, the young man played amateur jazz and had been leading a somewhat dissipated life. He saw his present life as remote "from the kind of discipline and perfection for a priest." As the young man thought about the priesthood, it was the word discipline that occurred again and again. Discipline appealed to him. At the same time as he worked on the novel, Merton wrote an unpublished essay that compared the lay and the priestly life. The priests were considered the lucky ones: "For them, from now on, everything is definite, is settled for them." In writing The Seven Storey Mountain he told of thi.nking about the monastery before he entered it: it was seen as a place of "much discomfort and no pleasures . I used to love books and study, but God will want me to die to all of that." He told of pursuing his novitiate with such enthusiasm that he made a nuisance out of himself by urging his novice director to reduce his portion of butter and cheese to be the same as the other monks', and he wanted permission to attend all the sessions of monastic prayer. By these permissions he wanted to lose himself in common life. He wrote a vivid statement of the Cistercian life that appealed to him: When a man becomes a Cistercian, he is stripped not only of his clothes, or 808 Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 1109 part of his skin, but of his whole body and most of his spirit as well. And it is not finished ~hat first day: far from it! The whole Cistercian life is an evisceration, a gutting and a scouring of the human soul. Merton had felt drawn to the monastery when he had visited there eight months before he had entered. Then he had seen a postulant take his ~place among the novices and he observed: "The waters had closed over his head and he was submer~ged in the community." The postulant was dressed like the other monks and was lost in the "anonymity" of the choir. Merton claimed that those who stayed in the monastery were those who simply followed the Common Rule, a Rule wherein each monk was "absolutely lost, ignored." This was the ideal he was seeking in the monastic life. Merton wanted to live a life of self-sacrifice. For years he had lived according to the urgings of his appetites only to find he was a confused victim of his own "self-contradictory hungers." The nature of these hungers were evident to him in many ways; for example, he was compulsively attending movies. Yet he would no sooner be in the theater than he .would despise the stupidity of the film; but soon he would again be at the movies. In deciding which religious group he would join, he told of wanting "a Rule that was almost entirely aimed at detaching me from the world." He was pleased to describe his entry into Gethsemani as "nothing less than a civil and moral death." He soon esteemed the other monks around him, for they had abandoned "all preoccupation with themselves and their own ideas and judgments and opinions and desires," they .had put their "whole life in the hands of another" through obedience: "The greatest of the vows is obedience." The .monk was said to be significant not because of what he does. but because of what he is: a monk: The religious habit itself was said to have the grace of a sacramental. Merton exalted in his community life and saw most people outside of monasteries as hopelessly confused. When he looked at the luggage he had brought with him, he reflected that he could no longer believe in himself as a layman. These .general themes are familiar to readers of The Seven Storey Mountain, though some of the passages remain unpublished (they can be seen at the Merton Study Center in Bellarmine College, Louisville, Ky.). The picture he gave of monastic life was demanding and severe, yet the surprising thing was the number of people who found what he described had a fascinating appeal. In the ten-year period after the publication of The Seven Storey Mountain, Gethsemani received approximately two thou-sand postulants! The number seems to say something about what people were looking for in joining "religious life." Many, of course, did not stay. With the passage,of time Merton's monastic euphoria underwent 1110 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 considerable change. He came to fight against the anonymity he had desired. He spoke'of monks "left with a husk of outward forms and no inner vocation." Though he had idealized entering the monastery as a form of death, he would come to ask, "Does our monastic life become so artificial and contrived that itis no longer really a life?" He had judged obedience to be the great monastic virtue; but later he would object that "doing what you are told., substitutes for life itself." He was no longer enthralled by the anonymity of the choir: "The choir is the scene of much depersonaliza-tion andanguish." He protested that monastic life should not be a "total abdication .of all human worth and identity." He even claimed that the whole concept of discipline in the life of prayer did not arise until the fifteenth century! He wrote an amusing caricature of monks who believe they are better than those in the world; the world was no longer seen as simply a place of error and sin. In his early writing he had affirmed that a monk's worth was in "being a monk." But he later said that he himself did not "comfortably wear the label of monk?' He wanted to be "a non-monk even, a non-layman, a non-categorized man, a plain simple man." "My hermit life is expressly a lay life." He told of a personal policy of"not appearing as a monk, a priest, a cleric," and said with some satisfaction, "I am a tramp." His biographer, Monica Furlong, explains, "It was as if he had abandoned all interest in the persona of the monk." The change in Merton reflected a change that was general in religious life. Religious discipline generally became less evident and many religious tried to.avoid a special identity in either manners or dress. Novices were often integrated directly into communities of formed religious, and obe-dience was no longer seen as a way of inner liberation--it was just a matter of convenience or greater efficiency of organization. Most religious would say the changes had been for the better. But recently while writing several articles on Merton, I came to believe that the more relaxed monastic life that is generally found today would in no way satisfy the Merton who entered "the monastery in 1941. At the time he entered he had different needs, needs which did not last indefinitely. Yet the general relaxation was a change that he had helped bring about. Like many others who entered the religious life in the fifties, I had been inspired by Merton's enthusiastic account of religious life. I had. been less dissipated, but I felt a similar need "to get hold of myself" and work through my "self-contradictory hungers." I entered a Jesuit novitiate where discipline was strict. Devotions, times~ to sleep, to eat and to recreate were regulated by a bell with little room for individual inclinations. Clothing, haircuts, readings and friendships were allowed little opportunity to develop accord- Thomas Merton and Formation Today ing to one's own taste~ Religious life was a way of freeing one from one's own tastes. One could wonder if that is still seen as a value--yet that was a major" reason that the noviceship took so long. In those days other Jesuits were not even to visit the novitiate "lest they disedify the novices." We believed that we were following "the more perfect way." 1 think that way of living would be frustrating for me now--but that does not mean it was not what I needed then. It was. There are seasons in one's life. Recently I was assigned to spend two years working with Jesuit novices. Meals remain scheduled, but the daily order was mostly gone. Dress is casual, betamax movies are regularly shown, beer is generally available and groups go out for:pizza. It is a more ordinary kind of life than I had known as a novice--and appears much like the life of those "in the world" or the life of longtime Jesuits. But should it be so? In working with the novices I decided much of the happiness of my own novitiate was not. present, My happiness .was perhaps naive--not unlike the happiness Merton had found among the Trappists.Like Merton I, too, had to resolve some contradictory hungers and deal with a confu-sion of undigested ideas. The exterior discipline provided support for my own efforts io control immediate appetites. I would not agree today with ma.ny of the ideals that made up the "more perfect way," but it gave me a clear look at myself and something to strive for. And in striving for a difficult goal I knew satisfaction--by being unconcerned with satisfaction. I knew better my appetite for God byignoring my other appetites. .I have visited other novitiates and talked with others in formation and I do not know if what had been valuable for me is still available. In recently doing some serious study with the texts of Merton, I came to understand something about, myself. Merton had become severe in judging the struc-tures of religious life that once he had found necessary and supportive. In the 60s I and other religious went through the samechange. But now I have come to argue there are seasons in one's life. There is a time when discipline is needed and a time when it should be relaxed. And this difference gives rise to a significant difficulty when novices early in formation are integrated into communities of formed religious. Perhaps the difference of seasons can be seen in the two sets of Rules for Discernment of Spirits offered by St. Ignatius. One set is for the First Week and the other is for the Second Week. Thus, they are put in terms of a temporal sequence, in terms of seasons. In the Rules for the First Week-- and Ignatius seems to believe that many people do not pass beyond this week--one judges one's interior movements (spirits) by a somewhat demanding objective standard. One is to shape one's life according to the commandments and the Gospel ideal and, therefore, it is according to these I~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Rules that one accepts the interior movements that ~support the defined ideal and.rejects the movements that do not. At the .end of the First Week (inthe kingdom meditation) one makes a radical dedication of oneself to God. In this meditation one is expected to make a deliberate choice to willingly bear all poverty~ trials and humiliations for the Lord's sake. It is a frightening expectation; but it is only after one has made such a prayer, that one is to use the Rules for the Second Week. To contrast the difference between the two sets of Rules:~ in the first set one conforms oneself to an objective standard; one tries to overcome one's feelings (movements) by judging objectiVely which feelings are appropriate. Then, in the Rules for the Second Week, one listens to one's feelings (one's consolations and desolations) in 6rder to learn from them what one is to do. One learns from the feelings only after distancing oneselffrom them and only after instructing them. Thus, at different times during the Exercises, very different norms are appropriate for dealing with "feelings." Having given hundreds of directed retreats, I have sensed that Rules for the First Week are often given only brief consideration or ignored. Much of the reason is that there is considerable ambiguity about the ethical questions that once had been so clear. Yet if one has not been through a considerable discipline of moods and appetites and begins using the Rules of the Second Week, one begins taking disordered moods and trivial appetites as messages from heaven. Thereby one becomes hopelessly confused--most people "in the world" know better than to do this. Ignatius took his own moods seriously and proposed a method of listening to consolations and desola-tions- but he would use this method only after he had disciplined them. 1 have done a fair amount of spiritual direction, and with it 1 have come to believe that many directees--by no means all--need less "spiritual life" and more objective conformity to demands of the Gospel. Any professional identity (doctor, athlete, musician, and so forth) requires an extended season wherein one conforms to an objective discipline. Senior doctors can follow their "hunches," while young interns generally should not. Mozart has recently become known as a highly spontaneous composer. There is some truth in this understanding, but Mozart became that way only after following a disciplined training that was brutal in its drmands.,l do not recommend brutal training for either musicians or religious. (Though from Mozart to Merton it has .produced some good results.) But, on the other hand, it does not make sense to believe one can be agood religious simply by being one's spontaneous self from the novitiate onwards. If that were the case there would be no need for a novitiate, other than a brief period in which to school the novices in the constitutions, charism, history, and so forth. When religious are simply integrated into Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 813 regular community life, they would seem to "have it made" more readily than is possible in any other profession. And this should lead one to suspect that something is missing in whathad been known as a demanding profes-sion- one that had appealed to the desire of the young, not to have it made, but to sacrifice one's self for a cause. Because of a current and much needed emphasis on personalism and because of smaller numbers entering religious life, many religious groups now "tailor the program for individual needs." But the present article would claim that such tailoring is not simply the better thing. There is also an advantage in. having a more or less uniform program according to which the novice should be tailored to fit a new way of life. Merton felt he needed considerable tailoring. If his novice director had tailored the life according to Merton's unique personality, would his director have left him in the chaos of his hungers and even more ill-adjusted~than he was to Trappist life? I suspect Merton would have been a better monk if he had not received a special assignment to "literary" work shortly after he had entered the community. Merton wanted to be lost in anonymity, the.ano-nymity of common life. In this age of personalism is there still something that can be said .for anonymity? There are advantages in losing oneself in "common life," especially ~when it is part of formation. One identifies with a group only if one has actively striven to become part of it. Such is the only way that a sports team can develop an esprit de corps.The members do not develop a common spirit unless they have been together in a common and demanding training. Members of such a team have tailored themselves to fit together in spite of their differences--and that is the power in their bond. It is only by striving to live by something more important than personal preferences, that one can discover the power of a community bond, a bond that is not at all the same as the friendship bond. The latter is based on personal choice--it is a matter of taste; while the community bond develops when different types of people (who otherwise iriight not be drawn to one another) submit themselves to a common discipline and thereby realize they are together in something more important than their personal tastes and bigger than any of them. When Jesus was told that his family was seeking him, he respgnded that his family was composed of those who "heard the Word of God and did it." (They could be said to be following the Rules of the First Week by conforming themselves to the gi{,en Word, to an objective discipline.) They were not together simply as'a m~itter of preference or as a group of congenial people with a common interest. Can we even imagine--a tax collector and a zealot in one group! The disciples were bonded by a common discipline 1114/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 that united them in spite of their differences. One might also allow that within this group some friendship bonds were allowed to develop. In this age of personalism I confess that I still understand what Thomas Merton was seeking as a young monk, and I believe I was seeking some-thing similar. In short, I did not want to dedicate myself to the triviality of my own'preferences, l still know the advantage of losing oneself in an impersonal discipline and losing oneself in the anonymity of a group.And in arguing for tl~is anonymity I find support in the words of Jesus to the effect that we must first lose our self in order to find our self. This command would suggest that first there must be a season of losing, and only after that a season of finding. And the season that comes first should say something about religious formation. Sometimes conservative religious communities tell only o.f the importance of losing oneself--while liberal religious com-munities tell only of the importance of finding oneself. But the present article would argue that each has its season. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three article's on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Expectations of Community Along Life's Journey Kristen Wenzel, O.S.U: Sister Kristen teaches Sociology and Women's Studies at the College of New Rochelle. She als9 does work for religious congregations as a research consultant. Her previous article in our pages was "Toward a So~iology'of Ministry in the United States~ (July/August, 1982). She resides in the Ursuline Community at 596 Minneford Avenue; City Island; New York 10464. here is no question but that our experience of community is a very important aspect of our lives. God has so,made us that we all need to feel we belong. This is also true sociologically speaking. It is true regardless of age, family upbringing, ethnic heritage, ministry or the group with whom we live. Looking back over our experiences of community is like going on a journey. When we go on a journey, what accompanies us--things or people? When we venture out, do we pref~er to go alone or with others? When we want to rest along the way, do we seek. out friends or a quiet grove alone? When we are unsure of our direction do we follow our hunches or do we ask for help? Let me ask you, where .have you experienced community along the myriad pathways of your life--at the fork in the road, at the intersection or along "the road less traveled'~ Let me explain. When I think of "the fork in the road," I think of the times when community forces me to choose between it and my ministry or between it and my preferred friendships or family. When I picture an intersection, 1 am thinking of all these important groups in my life converging and merg-ing in one place. Sometimes experiences of community seem to be taking me, a pilgrim, on a road less traveled, a road littered with obstacles. The 1t16 / Review for Religious,. November-December, 1985 road is uneven and progress is slow. Along the pathways we have walked, what have been our experiences of community? More directly, what person(s), group, or, perhaps, minis-try or activity is carrying me through life? What is community for me? Now, let us take a more analytical look at the word "community." Understanding the Word "Community" There are a variety of understandings of the term community. If you were to ask those with whom you live how they define community, one person might share with you an experience she has had of community, for example, a special liturgy with everyone in the house present; a jubilee celebration; extended time spent together over a meal; coming together with others from several configurations in similar work where talking and sharing are done in a concerned way and meaningful context. Another person might speak of the feelings that the word community evokes: for her, community is affi.rming, challenging, frustrat!ng, supportive, alienating, gratifying. Others might tell you what they wish community would be and what it has not been for them. Yet another might come back to you with the question, "What do you mean by the community? Everyone living under the same roof?. Our cluster community? The people with whom I do ministry? The diocese or province? My friends? My family? My parish?"~ This variety of responses indicates the many different ways we define community, describe our community experiences and/or set our goals regarding community life. How we define, describe or prescribe directions for community living is the foundation for building models of community. Generally, sociologists agree on three characteristics as essential to community. They are: locale, common ties and social interaction. When we speak of "the community" this concept encompasses locale or place as the basic component. Whereas, "community," as distinguished from "the community," emphasizes the common ties and social-interaction compo-nents of the definition? In this sense community is viewed ;not so much in terms'of locale or where we live, but in terms of there being "a high degree of personal intimacy, emotional depth, moral commitment, social cohesion, and continuity in time.''3 When we religious are asked about our experience of community, what most frequently comes to mind--the geographical locale, the level of social interaction present,~ or the common bond of a shared ministry, vision, commitment? The common bond or common ties component of community refers to an organizing factor which is neither a locale.nor an emotional tie but a common intellectual or professional bond4 or, in terms of our status as Expectations of Community / 1117 religious, a common religious understanding or spiritual bond. It is this common-bond element that is referred to in the "Community Life" section of the constitutions of many religious congregations, for example: -The love that unites us finds its source in the intimate union of Father,' Son and Spirit who dwell within us. -Christ calls us to form, as did the first Christians, a community having "one mind and one heart" (Ac 4:32) and experiencing the joy of his presence. -In Christ we are one body nourished by the Eucharist and strengthened by the Word of God. What about the social inter'action component of community? Here sociologists distinguish between the rural village and urban industrial society to present the dramatic changes that have occurred in the level of social interaction between people. What the sociologists have to say, I believe, gives us insight into how community life has evolved here in the United States. In a village society most people held common values, norms and traditions. The survival and welfare of the whole village was a concern shared by all. Social bonds developed among.people from the many activi-ties and functions. Geographic mobility was limited and personal contacts were long-term. A distinctive characteristic of the village community was that each .member had a position in the social order, a position usual)y assigned at birth. Expressions of individuality such as distinctive clothing, work aspira-tions, leisure activities and friendship circles were strongly circumscri.bed by the rights and obligations of other village members. Consrquently, the self-identity of the individual often fused with the individual's identification with the village. . On the other hand, in urban industrial society life is much more diverse and fragmented. We do not have regular, continuous face-tr-face interaction with just 'any one group over a number of years. Many of the people with whom wedo come in contact we deal with in impeCsonal, functional ways. Those we live with may come from social classes and ethnic backgrounds very different 'from ours. Personal histories are heterogeneous. Conse-quently, we don't necessarily share with our companions common tradi-tions,' values, aspirations or ,goals. Unlike people in rural villages who~ spend their entire lives in the same community, we are highly mobile, not only gebgraphically but socially as well. More often than not, we enjoy a 10osely-linked network of friends across several groups rather than a close-knit network within one community. In religious life increasingly, specialized ministries also are a product of this urban industrial and technological society. I~111 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Locale--common bond--social interaction. How important is locale in my experience'of community? Am I living in the particular community where I am because it is convenient for my work . . . because of my background experience or trifining for a particular ministry., because I can be close to aging parents or a sick relative., or because for me it is a real faith community to which I choose to belong?. Is a common bond, such as staffing a hospital, a love of one's foundress, serving the poor, or simplicity of life, with relatively little emphasis on locale and social interac-tion sufficient for community to exist in my estimation? Or is social interac-tion the essential element and, if so, what level of such interaction must be operative to make community for me? The relative importance we give to locale, common bond and/or social interaction indicates the model of community with which we most closely identify. Moreover, these are some of the basic elements that today's candidate for religious life will be looking at before choosingtomorrow's community. How each of us experiences community today ~s good and growth-produc-ing also influences the criteria we use in choosing the type of religious with whom we wo~ld like to live. This choice may only be able to exist in our mind. Nevertheless, the choice is real and affects the reality of community living. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. Current Trends Shaping Our Expectations of Community To define ~ommunity is one of the tasks to be done in developing models of community. Another very important task is to become aware of and sensitive to the current trends shaping expectations of community. Recent trends in theology and ecclesiology have had a significant impact on the spirituhlity as well as the experience of community life for apostolic religious in the United States. Among all the developments that have occurred in. the understanding of spirituality over the past twenty years, there are two that are fundamental. The first .concerns the way we view the world. Here we have moved from an assumption that reality is essentially static and unchanging to an awareness of a world that is dynamic and changing. As human persons within this world, not only are we subject to the process of continual change but'we are ourselves the very agents of that ~hange.5 It is in the acknowledgment, of being such agents that we are Expectations of Community / a19 evolving a new style of religious life. A second development, equally influential, focuses on how we view God. We have moved from an understanding of God as trangcendent and historical to the discovery of God as immanent in-our experience. We believe that human existence in its natural condition is radically oriented towards God.6 In the context of this understanding we have come to trust our experience of existence in the here-and-nowas the locus of the revela-tion of God. Consequently, e~eryday historical life and religious life are not separated. Experience takes on new meaning and becomes an integral part of our spirituality. These two broad developments in our worm view and God view make up the integrated secular and sacred climate in which community is being experienced, lived, and named among us today. The view of religious life as a mystery and a gift given to the Church in a particular moment of history has led to a search for new forms of com-munity; which will support the challenge of ministry in a new age and in a specific culture. An evolutionary perspective, which sees the life of faith as a journey and conversion as an ongoing process, has encouraged a more open and fluid approach to community.7 According to this trend community life is viewed primarily as a basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and for the ministry of the individual religious: Apostolic community life is a living out of the baptismal call to witness to the message of Jesus through ministry and service to the world. Consequently, community life is not lived apart from the world but rather within and for the world to which we belong, Our decision to live together out of shared Gospel values, and to give witness to these in society, is the foundation of community. It is such values underly-ing this decision which influence prayer, mutual support, presence, rela-tionships, lifestyle, finances, and all other aspects of community living. While community life is a living critique of the prevailing values of society,s it is also somewhat influenced and shaped.by societal trends. What are some of these secular trends challenging and giving rise to various models of community life?. John Naisbitt, in his popular book, Megatrends, deals with ten specific trends. I would like to single out three of these trends as those which I think we need to study and reflect upon in our .analysis of models of community life. Trend I. There is a persistent mbvement in society toward participatory democracy because there is a deepening conviction that people whose lives are affected by a decision must be part of the process of arriving at that decision. There is pressure On the Church, corporations, universities, local 1~20 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 parishes, agencies and hospitals to become more open and accountable. There is the new shareholder activism, worker participation, demand for greater employee rights and the consumer movement.9 There is no question that this trend toward participatory democracy is affecting religious and their current expectations of community. It is. an important element to be considered in building a model of community life. This growing movement toward participatory democracy is viewed by a significant number of reli- ¯ gious as an essential element if commumty for them is to be a credible and viable way of life. Trend 2. This decade is a decade of diversity, with multiple options in lifestyle, education, religion, housing, transportation, leisure activities, music and the ~.rts. The term "family".is being expanded to include a number of important relationships between people not related by blood or marriage. The country no longer holds on to the myth of the melting pot as ethnic and racial groups in growing numbers celebrate their diversity. Mul-tiple options have en';erged for women in the workplace, in personal life-styles, in choice of education, in elective sur~gery. Likewise, ~options for church membership are multiplying.~0 These trends are shaping current expectations for tomorrow's community. "Multiple Options" is becoming an evermore critical element to be considered in developing a model of community life. Cor~sider, for example~ multiple options for belonging to groups. This reality can enhance the quality of community life for contem-porary religious if we are willing not only to acknowledge this trend but to have leadership acknowledge it. Trend3. A world of interdependent communities.is being forced upon us by circumstances. Unless we recognize this we will not survive~ To achieve needed technologies we as a nation will have to work cooperatively with other nations. We will need to forge a 0ew relationship with the Third World as equal partners in an interdependent world.~ Perhaps the most significant areas of interdependence are those relating to the nuclear power issues and the growing global economy. Interdependence as expre,ssed in intercongregational-supported minis-tries, formation programs, and intercommunity living is a growing reality for contemporary religious. Interdependence for tomorrow's community means these developments will be more the reality than the exception. They will not only be accepted but embraced as integral to building a model of community life. These ~current trends do not comprise an exhaustive list. However, they are trends--religious as well as secular--that are having an impact on what we expect of community life. For example, if we bblieve that human experience is a locus for the revelation of God then, for us, God is expe- Expectations of Community rienced in interpersonal relationships, in ministry to and with others, in struggles for justice, in communal and liturgical prayer as well as in the give~and-take of daily community life. It is important that we get in touch with those patterns and trends in the Church as well as in society that are influencing our preferences for holding on to or restructuring our experi-ences of community. What are the trends you believe shape your own expectations of com-munity? It is here, I believe, that we find a clue to the reason why we may identify with one particular model of community' rather than another. Also, it is h~ere we gain insight into why, when we speak of tomorrow's community, we are speaking of multiple models that will grow in credibility and acceptancewithin a single congregation. Expectations as Expressions of Models of Community What do we mean by model? Our own experiences attest to the fact that community is a complex reality. We cannot take all dimensions of community and integrate them into a single vision of community. That would not be doing justice to its various elements. Rather, we keep them separate, highlighting different dimensions at different times. The use of models exemplifies a typological approach tothe study of community. The number of types or models is unlimited. However, I have chosen to limit the number of models lowill present to four. Each of theseomodels could .be broken down into several subtypes, but 1 will not attempt to do that. By approaching the study of community from the perspective of model, ultimately, I. am suggesting that this method offers us a multidimensional and not an uriidimensional understanding. The method of models or types can be invaluable in helping us to get begond the parochialism of our own outlook and t6 enter into fruitful dialogue with other members having a fundamentally different perspective. This particular approach should en-able us to encourage the kind of pluralism that heals and unifies ~ather than that which frustrates and divides. The use Of different models in our discussions of community evokes different viewpoints on issues and differ-ent suggestions for living out community. Sociologically, the. presentation of types or models: suggests what already is, not necessarily what Should be. Where'we live community life is determined more by circumstances, preferences and opportunities than by our trying to conform to some idealized concept in an idealized reality. Sociologically, idealized conditions do not exist--for better or for worse. The Institutional Model Here the concept of "locale" is impo~ant. The place one is assigned or II~fft / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 sent to, the geographical locale, is believed to constitute community. It is the community for the individual in the sense that this is where one's attentiveness and availability are directed. The principal needs of the indi-viduals are satisfied by their participation in communal prayer, shared meals and recreation together. Informal contacts outside the community are infrequent and do not contribute in a major way to the individual's life. Here, to live the common life is to live community. This is the goal, the basic conviction, shared by members who live this model of, community. The structured life is formally organized with a horarium and recognized levels of authority.Ordinarily, there is a single apostolate raiher than a diversity of ministries. Decisions are made based on the common good which, with stability, is highly valued. The members' needs and expecta-tions are met, for the most part, by the community. In the context of this model, individuals experience a strong sense of belonging to the gro~ with whom they have invested so much of their energies. To a large extent they are known .by the group and usually feel comfortable in group activities. They experience support from their communal living. This sense of pur-pose and direction is strengthened because it is shared by the group. Because so much time is given to the group, less time is available to follow personal interests or become involved in Outside activities. Exposure to lifestyles markedly different from the members' own is limited: Understand-ably, these types of boundaries as well as the relative homogeneity of the community tend to reduce overt conflictual situations. Preference for this model, would be shown by such felt needs as: -Praying together: office, Eucharist, shared prayer, retreat, communal prayer service; -Arranging gatherings on provincial and local levels: summer renewal, conferenc~es, chapters, workshops, jubilees, professions, funerals, big feast days; -Sacrificing personal interests for the common goo.d;, -Playing together: shared hours of relaxation, recreation, fun times, togetherness in enjoyment of TV programs of special interest, vaca-tion, cultural outings; -Feeling a sense of belonging and ~of being "at home" with one another; -Holding community meetings frequently, where members arrange schedules in order to be there. The Individual Identity Model In this model the emphasis in community is on social interaction rather than locale. An emphasis on the community member as person replaces Expectations of Community emphasis on community as place. Value for the human in self and others, respect for the dignity of the human person and the responsible freedom of every member are the basic convictions in this model. Consequently, it is the nurturing and growth of the individual that is of primary concern. Prayer in common is seen as a support and as a challenge, helping the individual to grow by helping to develop her or his insights and gifts. Diversity in rriinistry becomes inevitable with the emphasis placed on the d~velopment of each individual's talents. Community members are learning to recognize the dignity of the human person who has both rights and responsibilities in relationship to self, to others and to the world. The value of community flows from who we are rather th~n from what we do. There is a struggle with how to blend individual rights and responsibilities with those of .the group and how to hold both in healthy creative tension. There is a deep concernwith how to empower one another to be active participants in the creation of a Church, a nation and a world that reverence'the human~dignity of all. In a special way members of this~ type of community, if it is a commu-nity of women religious, recognize that the Women's Movement in the United States has deeply influenced many who share the determination to "use our power collaboratively and collegially in non-violent ways" to bring about the creation of a world that'respects all that is human. These members are coming tb a new understandifig of what it means to be woman: "The glory of God is woman fully alive," They are experiencing a new sense of solidarity with other women. They wish to bring about an awareness of women's unique gifts to be used in the creation of a more human, loving and just world.~2 This movement has heightened among religious the need for personal and communal discernment as 'they come to (erms with change as a continuous reality in their lives. It has also led them to create participative and collegial structures within community. There is dialogue and interaction on the journey so that they might discern and respond to the Spirit leading .them into the future. Prefereiace for this model Would be exemplifieod by such statements and elements as: -Challenged and called to grow beyond myself; giving most generously of myself; -Accepting responsibility for community; owhing community decisions; having a sense of building together; enabling the community to articu-late expectations of the group and individuals; -'Desiring growth in ideniity and cha'racter as individuals and as community;, -Appreciating each member for her or his contribution; considering ~124 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 members as individual persons not to be overloaded with work; -Recognizing the talents and gifts unique to each person and -Affirming ministry. The Ministry Model Here community life is viewed primarily as a-basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and the ministry of the individual religious. Community exists to facilitate the individual member's availability to minister to the needs of society-at-large. The active apostolate is of primary importance in this model. This is the common bond for living together in community. Locale and social interaction are of secondary importance. It is ministering to the needs of the People of God rather than to the members of one's own congregation that is the major expectation. Religious vows in response to vocation are a consecration for mission and are viewed not as ends in themselves but rather as supports for minis-try. Personal prayer demands a contemplative stance toward all of life and leads to contemplation in the midst of action. God is experienced in minis-try to and with others.13 Consequently, prayer in common is scheduled around the demands of the apostolate. It will occur less frequently, and at times without all members present. Times for private prayer would be more common. The major consideration in decision-making would be, "How will this decision provide greater availability and effectiveness in the apostolate"?. There may or may not be a diversity of apostolate works represented among the community members. Within the context of this model, for .example, new ministries are emerging for the, semi-retired that take them outside of the community: to share at centers for senior citizens, to tutor adults or chil-dren, to do parish.visiting or home nursing. Changes occurring in the society-at-large are affecting many of the types of changes experienced in the local community. In addition, membership in other groups and com-munities is acceptable as a means to apostolic service. It is quite common for some members to find these outside groups to be their primary com-munity. All-in-all the dimensions of community life are shaped by the values, goals and expectations of those whose primary focus is the apostolate. For some religious, the value of witnessing to community in the larger society becomes the apostolate. The community exists for the sake of its witness value. The expectation here is that the group will. live community in such a way that those outside community will see among them God's action in the world. Inviting butsiders to join the community for commu-nal prayer is an important dimension. In fact, hospitality in general would be considered essential to this type of apostolic community life. ¯ Expectations of Community as~ Preference for this model would be exemplified by such manifestations -There is interest in and suppori of one's ministry; united in service of others; involved in a common apostolate, being on an Ursuline faculty, giving help to the needy and the poor; -Small group living offers unique ways to use personal gifts, in the service of, others; -Hospitality is shown to guests, whether members of one's congrega-tion, one's family or friends and -Sharing work. The Communion Model~4 In the context of this model, the members of the community share the conviction that the concept of communion unveils an ever-deeper under-standing of community. Because we are all united in Jesus Christ and form one'Body of which he is the head, we are united to each other as members of one body. The diversity of gifts, talents, personalities serves the richness and well-being of the Body of Christ which is the Church. This is the common bond that unites members in community. They share the expecta-tion, the conviction, that religious life is a microcosm of the Church, a witness to the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and therefore, it must be a com-munion. Our life together must reflect the kind of fellowship with Christ and his members that is described in the New Testament. The source of our sisterhood or brotherhood is not human compatibility but rather a com-munion rooted in faith, in baptism and in life in Jesos Christ. Communal prayer, faith sharing and Eucharist would be the essence of community in uniting each religious to Jesus Christ, Likewise, there is a strong emphasis on attentiveness to the Spirit as a source of unity. Our oneness in Christ and his Spirit becomes the underlying rationale for the types' of decisions made regarding authority, leadership, provincial gatherings, living the vows, apostolates, and efforts to continue the updating and renewal of religious life. Likewisr, this communion directs us to attend to the needs of society and to issues of social justice. Communion is unity amidst diversity and is the essence of community life. Preference for this model would be exemplified by such evidences as: -Experiencing joy in living with people dedicated to the Lord; inspired by the fidelity and prayerfulness of one's sisters; -Sharing at depth level; articulating shared values; faith, vision; -Sharing times of crisis and -Assembling for the' good of the Church. To summarize--in these four models which I have just presented, we 1196 / Review for Religious, Nove.mber-December, 1985 do not find an exhaustive study but rather a continuing exploration of various, possibilities. From a sociological perspective, we see that different models place different emphases on Iocale,~ social interaction or common bond as the foundation for developing the model. These three elements are present in varying degrees whenever we describe community or living group. No actual community identifies totally with any single model. However, every community will probably find that it has an affinity with one model more than with another. Furthermore, it is important to acknowledge that each model raises a number of issues regarding commu-nity life that need to be addressed by members. Sociological Factors Influencing Our Expectations of Community What shapes .our expectations of community? Why do we find our-selves more attracted to one model rather than to another? Why do we recognize the description of one type better than another? Why do we haxie the preferences that we do for a particular model rather than for another? Or, on the other hand, are our expectations unclear or conflictual? Do we find more than one model appealing or, simply, none at all? Will tomorrow's communities really be that much more .different from today's? The variations that exist among us regarding expectations of commu-nity can be explained, in large part, by our respective personal ~ back-grounds such as the size of the family we grew up in; whether our ethnic heritage is Latin, Irish, Germanic or whatever; the type and number of years of education we had and whether we spent our childhood and early adult years in a rural or urban environment. Our age also affects our needs regarding community, and those needs change as we move from our 20s into our 30s, our 50s, our 70s. Likewise, our social-class background will have some bearing on how we view community. And there are other sociological factors which are influential. The task before us is for each of us to identify and name those that we believe have the strongest impact on our own respective expe.ctations and preferences. At times there is a tendency to call for unity in community while downplaying diversity of sociological background; for example, to challenge one another to a simplicity of life that will unite us, regardless of back-ground, social levels, experience or education. We are not united regardless of these factors. We can only be united in a real way when we have regard for them. This does not mean.we are defined in a static way by our personal history. But, we do need to remember that personal history is God-given, and the starting point for any of our journeys. Appreciating differences and allowing ourselves to be influenced by them can add a great deal of enrichment to community life. At the least, an awareness and Expectations of Community sensitivity to one another's background can explain why there exist among us so many and varied experiences and approaches to community. Briefly, I would like to mention another set of factors affecting prefer- 6nces. I will not ela ~borate on them but I would like t6 refer to them because they are critical elements to be dealt with in working out the practical details of community models. They are what we call structural elements; for example~ (1)the building lived in, (2) size of group, (3) geographical location, (4) age distribution, (5) daily schedule, (6) length of time of stable group membership, (7) procedure for incorporating new members, (8) mix of personality types and (9) number of ministries represented. There is a great deal more I could say about sociological factors and how they influence our expectations with regard to communal living. However, I believe I have given at least an indication of how to explore and apply them in gaining insight into how our preferences shape our attraction to one model over another. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to say that the journey mentality embodied in this paper is different from the "trip mentality" so often present in our society today. When we go on a trip our focus is on arriving. Our attention is toward the future with relatively little preoccupation on the present. We are driving sixty'five miles-an-hour to get there and what we are passing on the road is unnoticed. On the other hand, the journey, mentality is attentive and respectful of the process. It is attentive to the here and now. It is a creating.and c~reative e~xperience~ It is the p!ace to be because this is the place God is. The fact that we do not have it all together, the fact that we are searching, the fact that we are moving slowly, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes with conviction, are all positive signs and reflective of the way God's people have acted throUghout history. This is reflective of every social movement whether religious, political, economic or communal. This is reflective of what we are about in all of our deliberations about commu-nity- along our life's journey. NOTES ~Similar questions are addressed by Barbara Glendon, O.S.U., in her article, "Models of Community," REVIEW FOR RELI~,IOtJS, Vol. 38, No. 2 (January/February, 1979), 206-216. 2Jessie Bernard, The Sociology ofCommuhity (Glenview, Illinois: Scott Foresman and Company, 1973), pp. I-2. 828/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 3Robert A. Nisbet, The Sociological Tradition (New York: Basic Books, Inc., Publish-ers, 1967), p. 47. aBernard, pp. 4-5. SMaureen O'Keefe, L.S.A.', "Reflections on Spirituality and Religious Life," unpub-lished paper written for an all-day program on "Reflection on Apostolic Religious Life in the Archdiocese of New York" held on April 29, 1984 at Mount St. Vincent, Bronx, N.Y. ~Ibid. 7Corita Clark, R.D.C., "Communal Dimensions," unpublished paper on the interpretations of data gathered from women religious of the Archdiocese of New York who attended a program entitled, "The Experience of Religious Life in the United States" on February 4; 1984, p. 8. 81bid. 9John Naisbitt, Megatrends (New York: Warner Books, Inc. 1982), pp. 159-188. ~°Ibid, pp. 231-247. ~qbid, pp. 55-77. ~2Here 1 would recommend Carol Gilligan's book, In a Different Voice (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, .1982) where she presents the thesis that women's experience of relationship and care must be included in theories of human development which traditionally have stressed men's experience of individuation and autonomy. ~3Clark, p. 8. ~4Ernest R. Folardeau, S.S.S., "Religious Life is a Communion," REVIEW FOR REI,I-G~ OtJS (January-February, 1984), pp. 65-68. The basic ideas for this section are taken from this article. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Mlssoud 63108 Eucharistic Community of Disciples William E Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "A Sense of Consecration," appeared in the issue of November/December, 1983. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della M~glianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. Since Vatican II it has beeri commonplace to say that the Eucharist is the highpoint of the day, the summit, the center. This is the manner of expres-sion one encounters in constitutions, conferences, formation instructions, and so forth. Yet many of us on the individual and community level could very well ask ourselves if in fact the Eucharist is the central point of our-day, if we do approach it. with the spirit and outlook that enables it to be our real focal point. In actuality we may well,discover that our vision of Eucharist is narrow, and that we "do"~Eucharist because it is expected of us. It is not too distant in the past that big gatherings were marked with Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, for that was an accustomed way of noting special occasions. Now whena group of religious come 'together for a meeting or solemnity, the expectation is that the occasion will call for a community Mass. This is all well and good, but we may be missing its impact on the community and our individual persons unless our eucharistic horizons are broad; for it should not simply be an occasion for celebrating with song and ceremony. Indeed, it is also a moment for healing, for proclamation, and for recommissioning in service. Our times have seen a wonderful explosion of renewed insights into Eucharist as a result of theological and scriptural reflectionJ There has been a return to many of the aspects of eucharistic awareness prevalent in the early Christian community, but progressively neglected with the.pas-sage of time, especially when the vision of so many was primarily restricted 829 I1~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to Eucharistic Adoration. These insights should not be left in the intellectual domain; if carried over .and integrate.d into our daily vision, they can greatly enrich one's appreciation of Eucharist and help toward a realization of the Eucharist as the center of the day and of the community. As a means of helping people to make the Eucharist central, spiritual writers often enough used to speak of spending half of the day in thanksgiving for the Eucharist that had been celebrated and the other half in preparation for the next Eucharist. Surely many individuals found this approach helpful, but even more could be gained from incorporating into our lives the fruit of the present eucharistic renewal. At the outset, though, let us not be tempted to reject the wealth of spirituality that has come to us over the centuries from this emphasis on Eucharistic Adoration. For time spent in the Eucharistic Presence can serve as a powerful source of growth and strength in one's relationship to the Lord and to others, especially in terms of fostering an awareness of the many other presences of God 'in one's daily living. Through a lived awareness of the community, service and prophetic dimensions of Eucharist, individuals and communities may discover that Eucharist can be an integrating factor of daily life, and lead them to become a "eucharistic community of disciples,;' as the Lord Jesus intended. When we gather as a community to hear God's word and offer ourselves in union with Christ to .the Father, we assemble as a people of brokenness in need of healing and forgiveness for .our failures to carry out the Lord's command of love for, and service to, our sisters and brothers.° We bear all the weaknesses with which our personal and community qives~are laden~ and ~with the multiple failures ofour unfulfilled resolves to be more open to the Lord individually and together. We come in need of individual and community healing. The initial rite of the Eucharist introduces us to its forgiving and healing aspect as we sincere.ly acknowledge our need. It opens us up to rediscover the presence of Christ in our midst--not just the presence of Christ in his word, in the consecrated bread and wine, in the minister, ~,but in~ the very group of people with whom we have come together to worship. Jesus is there in the midst of the human weakness, the~ tensions, the variety of personality types, the physical sizes and shapes. He is there because we are gathered in his name. And he calls us forth from ourselves to discern his presence at the time in the community of worship. ,~ It is not enough that we discern his other presence~ in the eucharistic celebration. Our eucharist does not deserve the name in the full sense if we are unaware of his presence in the assembly, since Eucharist involves the interrelationship of a series or network of modes of Christ's presences. It is, as it were, a way in which Christ concretizes the connection between love Eucharistic Community of Disciples for God and love for people. It is an extension of the Emmaus incident in which the two travelers could recbgnize Christ in the breaking of the bread because they had shown hospitality toa fellow journeyman, inviting him to stay with them. Thecommunity aspect of Eucharist is not just a matter o.f song, gestures and prayer together, important as these ~re; for they can fast descend to the level of the empty ritual against which Jesus spoke. Rather this facet of Eucharist centers on a faith conviction that Jesus is in ~the midst of his people, a Risen Brother among sisters and brothers, leading them in wor-ship of the Father by the power of the. Spirit. And the perception of this manner of Jesus' presence is related to the breadth of our view of the Jesus whom we receive in communion: We receive the Risen Lord Jesus who is inseparable from the people whom he redeemed; so that our communion with him mysteriously engages us in communion with others, Long ago St. Augustine wrote: "We receive what we are; we are what we receive, the Body of Christ." And also, "We say Amen to what we are, the B~dy of Christ." In receiving Christ we somehow receive others into ourselves; we are put in touch with them on a profound level. " The context of the Seder meal in which Jesus instituted the Eucharist was, and still is, an experience of celebration and communion, for" those participating, in the various presences of Yahweh. The gestures and' rites expressed solidarity; the history proclaimed was a family history of ~the people, extending into the very time of celeb~:ation, wherein Yahweh was present in their midst, Jesus took the richness of that meal and transformed it; he took the whole community dimension 'that was essential to it and gave it an even deeper m~aning with his promise to be with those gathered in his name. But he challenges his disciples to awareness of this presence of his; for it does not happen automatically in one's life and a community can easily miss the Jesus in whose name they are gathered. It is not enough to focus on the word, the altar, the minister. Jesus' washing the feet of his disciples reveals another facet of Eucharist: the service dimension in which the liturgy of the altar flows forth into the liturgy of life: Jesus' act of washing the feet of the apostles was an integral part of Eucharist and not an isolated event,~ It summed up the self-empty-ing that had been going on all through ,his life and which would ~find its ultimate expression in the total giving of self on Calvary. When he told his disciples "Do this in memory of me," Jesus would have referred to more than the institution of his Body and Blood. His charge to the apostles would have encompassed what led up to the actual words of institution and the whole spirit of gelf-emptying that underlied them. His command to "wash one another's feet" is closely related to "Do this in memory of me"; 1~.2 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 for without the spirit of mutual se.rvice expressed in washing one another's feet, we will 'not in fact be celebrating in memory of him even though perform the ritual of Eucharist. Eucharist necessitates that those who par-ticipate in it break the bread of their own lives with others and pour forth their blood for others in service. Christ made it clear that it was by love for others that people would recognize his disciples, and love finds its expression in servibe of others. We have only to reflect on the parable of the last judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew to see the connection Jesus made between service of others in a communion of love with them and being his disciple. Or consider the words of Jesus when his disciples wanted him to disperse the crowds when it was getting late: "Give them something to eat yourselves" (Mt 14:16; Lk 9:13). The eucharistic tone.of the gospel narrations of the incident, is reminiscent of the eucharistic call to serve others, as Jesus himself goes on to serve the crowd--and the people in the crowd also go on to share their goods and serve one another. Every time a community gathers to celebrate Eucharist, it receives a renewed challenge to go forth and serve others and share with others, to wash the feet of those whom we meet--and to let our feet be washed by others, inasmuch as a spirit of service and communion with those whom we serve requir,es an ability to receive as well as to give. All the moments and actions of ministry during each day, and the daily demands and opportunities for creating community are rooted in the liturgy celebrated at the altar, and constitute a large part of the liturgy of daily life in which we are freed from self for others and for the Father. "Do thisAn memory of me" should not be words heard only after the consecration; they should echo in our hearts all day long in all we do and tr), to live. And when our human frailty holds us back from all the self-emptying demanded of a .disciple, we bring our weakness and human failings to the next Eucharist to find therein the healing and strengthening we need to face the future .challenges of service to which that Eucharist sends us forth. Eucharist involyes not simply celebration but proclamation. "When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes" (I Co 11:26). How often those words are said or sung as an acclamation without their meaning being grasped! "The death of the Lord" speaks the love of Christ, the love that is at the heart of mission. Eucharist celebrates that love and calls the disciple to continue that love in his/her own life and proclaim it by action. The Eucharist charges individuals and commun!ties not to live for self, but to reach out to others in love and compassion, prolonging the mission of Christ right into the present. It ¯ demands that we be Christ in our day in our love for the Father and our Eucharistic Community of Disciples / 1133 sisters and brothers, laying aside untlue concern for self for the sake of others. Eucharist is not really celebrated if the proclamation of love in action is absent from the lives of those who assemble at the Eotd's table. St. Pa.ul .made this very clear in his reprimands of the Corinthian community who violated the fundamental meaning of the symbol of the Christian agape. We, too, fall into contradiction if we live in indifference to others after drinldng;~he cup of the Lord's Blood and thereby asserting'a r~Com-mitmbht to follow Jesus in the selflessness of discipleship.2 Christ queries us ifi eac~ Eucharist, as he asked James and John, whether we can drink the cup of freedom from self for others in love. When we view Eucharist as proclamation, there are implications for how we regard others, and whether our vision corr.esponds to that of Jesus. The Jesus of the Gospels shows reverence for the unique dignity of each individual; He treats others as sisters and brothers and shows special con-cern for those mistreated or rejected by society. He reaches out to others and does not live closed in on himself. The Eucharist we celebrate declares that this is the manner of acting for t.he Christian community. The procla-mation of "the death of the Lord until he comes" speaks loudly against injustice and lack of peace, but we can be deaf to the message when we are unaware of Eucharist as a challenging proclamation. It.is not enough to view Eucharist as a celebration of what we.have come to be as Christians and of the gifts we have received. While there is place for focusing on the pasL there must also,be a look to the future and to .the present with the calls to share, to serve and to proclaim that Christ's love is very much alive today. To be eucharistic means more than, to be a people of thanksgiving living in a spirit of gratitude, for Eucharist embraces calls for living discipleship and continuing to enter more deeply into it. To be a eucharistic person or community is to live a life .integrated around Eucharist in its different dimensions of community, prgclamation and ,service as well as the tradi-tional aspects of adoration, .praise, thanksgiving and reparation. The more we ponder over the facets of Eucharist, the more our day will be centered around it and be affected by it. We will perceive our day as being one in which we are missioned at the Eucharist to go forth and live and do what we proclaim at the altar; and we will come back to the Lord's table conscious of the ways we have not fully lived Eucharist because self has gotten in the way. And we will come together as community to be healed, freed and strengthened to go forih again in eucharistic mission. ~ / Review for Religious, Novembei'-December, 1985 NOTES lOne of the most valual~le sources for renewed eucharistic spirituality is the magazine Emma~uel published by the Blessed Sacrament Fathers, 194 East 76th St., N.Y., N.Y. 10021. In recent years a number of articles have appeared that afford very rich insights. Among others that could be cited: James Feeley, "TheologieS of'Eucharist" in April and May issues, 1981; James Feeley, "Eucharist as Compelling Service'r in June, 1981; Paul Bernier~ "Changing Eucharistic Perspectives" in,July/Aug., !1981; Paul Bernier, "A Century of Congresses" in Sept., 1981; :Eugene LaVerdiere, "Proclaiming the Death of the Lord" in Oct., 198 i; Joseph Hart, "The Splendor of the Eucharist" in April, 1982; Eugene LaVerdiere and John Gartner~ "Eucharist as Proclamation" in April, 1982; John Gartner and Eugene LaVerdiere, "Eucharist as Liberatiofi" in May, 1982; and 'Eugene. L~iVerdiere and John Gartner, "Eucharist and CommuniOn" in June and Sept., 1982. ' ~See Eugene LaVerdiere, "Can You Drink the Cup?" in Emmanuel, vol. 89, no: 10, Nov. 1983, pp. 490-495. The Good News ' Good news is oven-fresh and warm like bread in morning nostrils It's felt in channels of the blood ~like anticipated supper, down highway,~ rides. It's news read under lighled lamps ~ warm with the glow of chaliced wine Down all the streets and byways of our twisted years. Good news is sharing of the Word, fresh and warm communion Not yesterday's news from vacant lots or jammed in sealed-up windows, ' , Good news lets in a radiant light washed clean in morning deE, Good news is news that will not stand still. See it rise in serene suspense as each sun rises toward each day Not in cyclic repetitions but spiraling bell-tongued from towers Calling all things to itself in its tremendous inward and upward thrust Good news is news that will not stand still. Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6321 Clemens Ave. St. Louis, MO 63130 Inculturation, Community, and Conversion Gerald A. Arbuckle, S:M. Father Arbucl~le is well known t0our readers fo.r the insightful articles from his pen which have graced our pages in recent years. He has agfeed to Offer ihe fourth anrual Spring Lecture, jointly sponsored by REVIEW FQR RELIGIOUS and St. Louis University's Department of.Theological Studies, next March. Father Arbuckle may be addressed at his congregation'~ generalate: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. In language that is remarkably radical, Paul VI ten years ago identified the scope of evangelization with the transformation of cultures. ~What matters," he wrote, "is to evangelize hlJman culture and ~:ultures, not merely in a purely decorative way, as it were by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth, and right to their very roots." l For the pope e~,a,ngeliza-tion must come alive to the people in and throughthe symbols that have meaning for them? But he is no cultural romantic, no cultural i'elativist. In the light of the Gospel some, culturally a~cept~ble symbols or customs may have to b6 rejected, others encouraged to develop. In other words, thee pope is speaking of what we now call inculturation, that is, "the dynamic relation between the Christian message and culture or cultures; an insertion of the Christian life into a culture; an ongoing process of reciprocal and critical interaction and assimilation between them."3 Religious are ,evangdizers. But to evangelize, they must first be evange-lized themselves.4 Put in another way, if they are to be agents of inculiura-tion for others,, they must first undergo inculturation themselves~ They must first submit, and keep on submitting, their own lives, their own religious life culture, to the critical evaluation of the Gospel. They must see 835 Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to what extent their community life, their lifestyles, are negatively or posi-tively influenced by the culture to which they belong, An objective evaluation of one's culture is far from simple. It is so easy to be deceived. Some time ago I heard a European missionary working in a South-East Asian country make the following comment: I have just visited a very large formation house for religious clerical students. The quality of community life is just so perfect, so Christian. There is gentleness, humility among the candidates. No one steps out of line. No one is ever alone. There is so much harmony here. Just so different from the individualism of the western world. Contrast this with a comment of another religious priest, this time within a Western country: The community where our few students are being trained is so mature. Each student is challenged to stand on his own feet. None of this together-ness emphasis. They rarely come together; this shows their maturity, their lack 6fneed, for emotional props.° I feel this is real community. How are these comments to be evaluated? Both commentators assert that the communiiies they refer to are deeply Christian. But in fact are they so perfect? Both commentators stress opposite values: th~ value of being tightly integrated in the group and the value of standing alone. According to Gospel orientations, can both emphases be correct? How far are the reactions of the participants in ihe houses influenced by.their cultures so that the consciofis effort at building realChristian co~mianity is minimized? These are complex, but urge~nt, ~uestions. Religious may be helped to answer them with the aid of anthrbpoi~gical insights. After a'lL in~:ulturation is the evangelization' of culture and cultural anthrop~ology specializes in the systematic .study of culture. In ~ttiis article, therefore, I will seek to: -define wh~it is meant by community; ~-define culture, and describ~ Variou~ cultural ~xpr~ssions of community; -r~flect ori incuituratioh, conversion a~d~community in religious life; ' -suggest some practical formation implications of the analysis. '~ Reflections on the Nature of Community Despite the ease with which the word community is used, it is not so easy to define what it means. After reviewing ninety four definitions of community, one author concluded that "beyond thd conceptthat people are involved in commu.nity, there is no complete agreement as to the nature of community.~5 Despite this difficulty, for thepurpose of this article we might accept the distinction made by Raymond Plant: Commu.nity, he says, should be considered eithdr as a fact or as a value? Community as a' Inculturation, Community, and Conversion /837 ~fact is something sociologically definable. As a fact, community is "essen-tially a sentiment which people have about themselves; a sentiment expressed in action and behavior but still basically a feeling."7 According to David Clark, two essential feelings for the existenc~ of community are a sense, of significance and a sense of solidarity. Individuals feel they have an accepted position in the group. This gives them a feeling of significance. They feel bonds with one another; thi~ gives them a sense of solidarity. How significance and how solidarity are to be expressed in fact are most often determined by the cultui'e, or belief systems, of the people who.make up the.community. Some cultures heavily stress significance, others solidar-ity; others seek to balance the two feelings. When we speak of community as value we move away from the socio-logical area into the .ethical, .(he philosrphical or theological areas. How one defines what a community shouM be will depend on one's values.8 If one believes that the .bonds between, members of a community should be ~arkedly strong, then individuals may be forced to weaken their own feeling of personal significance. If the latter is. given top priority, then solidarity itself may weaken: For the Christian, community as a value takes its foundation from the Trinity: "May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you" (Jn 17:21). We struggle, with the grace of God, to give visible expression 'to the presence of the Trinity-- a sharing in love and in openness, but without the loss of personal unique-ness~ There is emphasis on other-centeredness; that is, concern for the welfare of the other, .but without loss at the same time of one's responsibility for oneself. There is allowance .for "both autonomy and mutuality.-9 There is to be the unity of heart and mind. Unity--which is not necessarily tl~e .same as uniformity--is to be achieved in and through healthy interaction, dialogue and charity,t0 It is a unity born out of freedom in Christ. Cultural Expressions of Community .,"Community" emphasizes the peoplb who feel .personal significance and/or solidarity; "culture" emphasizes the way people express this feeling in practice, The values and biases of our family, neighborhood, and com-munity to which we belong have in so many ways been shaping our feelings; emotions, and way~ of responding. Our ways of relating to other people; to those in authority, are "never simply spontaneous, but are care-fully--- if often unconsciously--learned from life around us." ~ Anthropol-ogists remain divided on how to define culture in a comprehensive way. Some would stress the importance of what people do rather than believe. More commor~ly today, however, culture is used to refer to the organized system of knowledge, of belief, whereby a people structure their experience I~1t / Review f.or Religious; November-December, 1985 and perceptions, formulate acts, and choose, between alternatives. This sense of culture refers to the realm of ideas that influences (not determines) behavior, As Ward Goodenough says, ideas "provide standards for deciding what is., what can be., how one feels about it . what to do about it . how to go about doing it."~2 Understood in this sense, culture has a deep, often unconscious, influence on behavior.: Culture gives us meanings about, the things_that we see to be important; culture gives us a sense of direction. Culture tells, us what the people we live and work with consider good or bad. Culture tells us what sanctions, if any, we will suffer if we do not accept what others do or want in.the community to which we belong. Anthropologist Mary Douglas, a leading contemporary commentator on ritual and society, in an effort to articulate how individuals can be pressured by culture to respond in certain ways, uses two basic variables: group and grid.~3 The group is the experience of belonging to a social unit, the 'feeling that "I belong to this group of people and not that group 'of people." Put in another way, group means "the outside boundary that people~have erected between themselves and the outside world."~a The grid is the set of rules, the (tangible or intangible) structures or systems that relate one person to others on an ego-centered basis. Or it connotes, asshe herself writes, "all the~other social distinctions and delegations of authority that [are used] to limit how people,behave to one another."tS~ From these two variables she creates four models of culture. I will .restrict the analysis here only to two rather important, polar-opposite models: "strong group and strong grid culture" and "weak group and weak grid culture.'~ Community will be expressed in two different ways in these cultures. ~ ,ln the ~explanation that follows, I will give more emphasis to the first model for two reasons. Firstly, information on this model is not so easily available to the general reader, unlike the material relating to the second model. Secondly, whereas the number of candidates fog the religious life is severely decreased in Western ~hurches (except in Poland and Ireland), Africa, Asia~and Oceania are seeing a true explosion of religious vocations. There is also a similar pattern relating to the recruitment of priest candi-dates.~ 6 The cultures,of these, countries tend to approximate more to the first model than the second. Diocesan authorities, religious superiors and formators, then; may very specially need to appreciate the formation and inculturation implications of this model. On the other hand, considerable literature is available on the second model, a model that has application in many parts of the Western. world. Before proceeding with the analysis, however, two clarifications are necessary. I will be describing two sociological models or frames of refer- lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1139 ence. A model is not a perfect abstraction from reality. Rather a model is very much a construct used to facilitaie a better understanding of very complex situations. A model reflects, reality to the extent that it highlights certain emphases or trends. A particular cultui'e can then be researched to discover just how far it conforms or diverges from the model. Secondly, though the first model is particularly common throughout Africa;~Asia, Oceaniaand South America, this does not mean it is not also operative within Western countries, It is just less dominant in these coun-tries, Similarly when I refer to the second model, weak group.and weak grid, as particularly characterizing Western countries, it does not mean it does not have application at times also in parts of the Third World lands. Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture . Inthis model the strong grid involves moral and normative prohibitions that limit or highly structure interaction. The stress on group identity gives security to,individuals, but at the same time confines them to close relations only with people within the boundaries of the group. The feeling of solidar-ity, not personal significance, characterizes this culture and thus is the dominant expression of community living: Within the community, behavior is highly traditional; what was done in the past becomes the measure of what should bedone now and in the future, Frequently, the position of each individual within tt]e community is clearly-- and even rigidly--defined, even before birth, by the rules of kinship, Kin-ship (the extended family system) is the articulating principle of all social and economic organization. For example, all members of one's tribe or clan may be named "grandfather," "grandmother," "father" or "mother," "brother" or "sister," "son" or "daughter" depending on the ages of those concerned, e.g. all males belonging to my father's generation are called ~ather." The titles denote what behavior is expected of the people with whom one comes into contact. The effective principle ,that binds people together in such c~ultures and communities is reciprocity. Often kinship rules dictate precisely who receives what, how much and from whom. Within cultures of this type there is a vigorous ideology that gives priority, to group cohesiveness, togetherness, interdependence and group harmony. Often this ideology is summarized in one word or in a brief expression. For example, among Maoris in New Zealand there is the term aroha. The root meaning of aroha is "love of kin," and it implies not only affectionate feelings but also the issue of these feelings in action. Since kinship is now not so'important to Maoris, aroha is applied to friends also, but still in the event of conflict the sense of obligation to kin is likely to prove the stronger.~7 ~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 In Papua New Guinea, where there are five :hundred languages and at least one thousand dialects for 3',000,000 .people, the commonly heard expression is wantok ("one-talk" or.same language).~8 In Japan the word wa is Used; the word connotes the priority that must be given to unity, cohesiveness, team spirit, the:cultivation of good feelings among members of the same firm or family,t9 In the Philippines ~faithfulness to the group, called, bayanihan, is emphasized.2° A particularly key expression in Philippines~culture is paki-kisama; this underlies virtually the entire structure of social relationships~ Priority is given to smooth interpersonal relationships at all times and pakikisama is a primary way of achieving such smoothness. It' means "giving in," "following the lead or suggestion of another"; in a word, "concession," even when one knows that the coffcession is objectively wrong.2~ Pakikisama, as a value, favors avoidance of direct confrontaiion that could lead to open and violent aggressive behaviors, The desire for' frictionless relationships can result in extensive use of euphemism in con-versation, and the speech is loaded with metaphors that convey a message with minimum risk of offense3 There are few concepts, as deeply rooted in the Western mind as the concept of self. Westerners generally are apt to see (hemselves as distinct beings, "separate from all others in most important respects, with separable beliefs, talents, and experiences. 23 In contrast to this approach, Japanese see themselves or define themselves as part of a larger group. One's separate "identity" is not separated "out as the primary sign of personal development; maturity for them usually means merging with the collective whole. The Western interpretation of~ maturity lies precisely in the autonomy of .the individual. Japanese, in brief, derive their identities in part from those nearest to them. There is a partial merging of identities so that the identity of the group is apt to be the dominant force: As in Japanese culture, so in these other cultures which resemble the strong group and strong grid model. Collectivism, or the feeling of solidarity, with stress upon harmony and consensus, generates pressure .for conformity to group norms, pressure to ~'be like everyone else." Conspicuous idiosyncracy and dissension are avoided or suppressed, and acquiescence is upheld as main mechanismsfor maintaining consensus. There are many subtle but effective ways to ensure conformity to the group and to behavior expectations of the group (grid). There is the fear of being gossiped about, of being made the object of ridicule. if norms are broken. ~ ¯ The Japanese sociologist, Chie Nakane, in explaining the stress on the group as the foundation for community, says that people adhere to the group "not by religion or philosophy but by a very human morality. The Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 041 yardstick of this morality is always determined by contemporary trends. The feeling that '.I must do this because A and B also do it' or 'They will laugh at me unless I do such-and-such' rules the life of the individual with greater force ~han any other consideration, and thus has a deep effect on decision,making."24 The fear of being shamed if one does something differ-ent ~from the group holds the individual in check. The adoption of Western ambitions for personal freedom is almost incomprehensible to persons with traditional Japanese assumptions about group loyalty. As in Japan, so also in other cultures which approximate to our model of strong group and strong grid. One famous Fijian leader commented on the vital quality of liberality as an expression of solidarity within the group: "Liberality is the law of tradition, and to give evidence of thrift or arouse suspicions of miserliness is to sin against the law."25 Of Tahitians, B. Finney writes: "Stinginess is not admired., and anyone judged stingy is often pejoratively referred to as Popa's (European)."26 The concept of hiya in the Philippines has been described as shame, but the English word does not adequately convey the .term's meaning. It is a form of self-deprecation, involving embarrassment, inferiority, and shyness all arising from having behaved improperly in relating to the group. The fear of being shamed is one of the more powerful sanctions operating to maintain the overall system of social and group relationships?7 The fear of being cast out of the group, ostracism, either by being physically removed or verbally ignored or snubbed, is a most powerful sanction against individual non-conformity to group and grid demands. In Genesis Cain is not to be executed for murdering Abel. His punishment is to be yet worse: ". 'You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer over the earth.' Then Cain said to Yahweh, 'My punishment is greater than I can bear'" (4:1 2-13). In ~'strong group and strong grid" cultures people may attempt to break away from the group demands, but few can take the ostracism for very long.28 Finally, there is the ever-present fear in many communities that if the norms of group and grid are not followed, there will be supernatural sanctions imposed: the spirits, ancestors, witches, sorcerers, or even God himself will impose punishment on wrongdoers. Punishment may be immediate or long delayed, e.g~ a person, becomes sick and then remembers :a group norm was broken sometime in the past. Sometimes the wrong-doing can be comPensated for, e.g. by girl giving, or sometimes people feel that nothing can be done, and death or suffering must be accepted in a spirit of fatalism.29 Weak Group and Weak Grid In this model both group and grid or social networks have little grip on 1t42 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 individuals. The emphasis is on individualism, on individual decision-mak-ing and initiative. As Ferdinand Tonnies put it: '~'Here everyone is by himself and isolated, and there exists a condition of tension against all others. Their spheres of activity and power are sharply separated, so that everybody' refuses to everyone else contacts with and admittance to his sphere, i~e. intrusions are regarded as hostile acts."30 Interpersonal relation-ships are basically competitive. People compete with each other to gain personal advantage, status. There is no deep mutual sentiment that can generate trust and reciprocal concern. Inter:relationShips are governed by formal contracts; people are ever ready'legally,to sue one another for suspected violation of personal rights in all kinds of spheres. Douglas describes the model in this way: "Instead of accepting their allotted station in a given scheme of things, as where grid is strong, each family is involved, for its very survival, in the effort for advantageous alliance--marital, de-fensive, or financial.''3~ We still refer to this type of interrelationship as community, not just because personal significance is stressed but because in some very vague, but real, way people feel some sentiment' of solidarity, even if it is paradoxi-cally conflictual. They may fe~l some sense of common, belonging, ever so faint, because they live in the same house br work in the same building or firm. But it is a sense of belonging that is so weak that it cannot be depended on for much support, if any, when one is in difficulty. In this model personal significance is vigorously emphasized. Hence, the stress on individualism and the struggle to establish a sense of personal acceptance in community through competitive work and through material symbols of achievement. But the struggle .for .status in such a competitive world is a never-ending battle, with success at best very fleeting. In this culture model, the cult of self-fulfillment is strong~ how can I best improve myself through my own efforts, my own self-discipline, my own efforts at manipulation of others for my advantage?32 Recently social-economist Amitai Etzione severely criticized the United States for uncriti-cally adopting this model of culture and community: "[We] have experienced a hollowing of America in which community was whittled down. Greater reliance on government has been accompanied by promotion of a particular brand of individualism best labeled egotism, sometimes referred to as 'me-ism' or hedonism, and . . . built into antisocial interpretations of the psychology of self-actualization."3~ Some claim that people like Locke, Hobbes and Adam Smith contrib-uted to the emergence of the weak group and grid culture in America, because these authors stressed the primacy of the individual and the wisdom of a society built on self-sufficiency.34 But America is not alone in stressing lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1143 the significance of the individual to the detriment of solidarity. Within the Australian ,popular folklore, for example, there is also the cult of the rugged individualist. As one writer said "the Australian way of life" was "something much deeper than words can depict," that it embodied some "inner principle'~' which, although difficult to define, was related to "the freedom, the security, the justice and the individualism of life in this sun-burned, muscular continent."35 Evaluation of the Two Culture/Community Models E. Aronson.points out that the human person can respond to social/ cultural influence in three possible ways: by compliance, identification or internalizationP6 Compliance connotes the reaction of a person who behaves in a certain way to gain ~reward 9r to avoid punishment. If the group pressure to act is sufficiently strong, .then the person who~complies will go along with the group to acquire praise or avoid difficulties, Decisions as to what to do or not do: are taken, without his involvement or responsibility. When identification takes place a person acts in a certain way in imita-tion of the person who is influencing him. The action is done not to ga!n a reward or avoid punishment, but simply to be like the influencer. The internalization .of a value or belief is by far the. most permanent, most deeply rooted, response to outside influence. The reason to internalize a particular belief is the desire ,to be right. The reward for the~ belief, is intrinsic. A personal conversion is required to achieve internalization in" order to withstand the pressures for compliance and in order to avoid the fickleness of identification. ln~.the two culture/community models described above, are there., influences that foster or hinder the internalization of Gospel community values? Are there~factors within these models that are conducive to Gospel ."a.utonomy and mutuality"~. I will take each model in turn and attempt to respond to these questions. Evaluation of the Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture A researcher who studied seventy years of parliamentary ~debates in New Zealand reflected on the consequences of what was then an example of strong group and strong grid culture emphases: "Here in a small and culturally homogeneous milieu is the spectacle of a majority rule producing some of the consequences. : the dulling effect of the mass mind, the dominance of conventional opinion, the despotism of custom, the intoler-ance of unorthodoxy, the sacrifice of talent to the worship of averages, a world made safe for mediocrity."37 In the strong group ~and grid culture, 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 uniformity in behavior becomes almost synonymous with patriotism. The pressure to conform to the group, and to the established, detailed, rules of life, can be so strong .that the individual's capacity to make independent judgments and to take autonomous action in light of Gospel values is severely restricted. The culture provides, therefore, little or no opportuni-ties for significant independent and responsible personal action. The sense of individual identity is anchored in group belongingness and is thus sustained by going along with peers. This goes with the desirability of being accepted by peers, the anxiety connected with being left out, and a competitive urge for always being in. One economist, reflecting on the causes of povery within the Pacific Islands, pointed to the traditional dominance of the group over the individual as one major obstacle to the removal, of poverty: Generous giving has been elevated to a very high place in traditional standards . Taking advantage of a general acceptance of this customary attitude, proceedsfrom the sale of crops, wages orany accumulated prop-erty are subject to demands from all sides.; the proportionate scale and nature of these demands being such that it is difficult for any individual tO retain funds or .useful property and the earner or producer after successive distributions is usually discouraged from making further effort.38 Given pressures of this kind, it is very difficult for the individual to come into contact with his or her real self, with the reality of loneliness. One becomes imprisoned by group pressures, isolated from one's inner self. "The stress on togetherness," write Eric and Mary Josephson, "is a particu-larly pernicious pulsation that may acquire a pathological character. While togetherness may lessen the feeling of being lonely, it is really only an exchange of isolation for an unrealistic'imprisonment of brotherhood'?'39 Not only does the pressure to conform to the group result in hiding One's own loneliness, but the pressure to appear happy and one with others can cover over real tensions, aggressive feelings and'~ anger which remain unresolved. Westerners, who may come from cultures that overstress ruthless and competitive individualism, when they come into contact with strong group and grid cultures--in which harmony and.external conformity are stressed-- are tempted !o fall victim.to the pernicious disease of cultural romanticism. They fail to see that individuals can be culturally oppressed. This is the case in the comments by the first observer to whom I referred in the introduction of this article. The observer assumed that the cheerfulness he saw was inspired by .Gospel values. I, for my part, cannot be so sweeping in my praise. The observer noted that "no one is ever alone." The particular culture on which the observer was commenting was of the strong group Inculturation, Community, and Conversion/.1145 and grid type, in which a person regularly spending lengthy periods of time . alone in reflection and study was considered definitely odd, even a traitor tothe group's idea of Gospel community.~ In this culture individuals lacked the space, freedom, challenge and support, to be themselves, to be auto-nomous. The same community covered over very real interpersonal ten-sions. If such tensions were ever to come out into the open, to be resolved in a Christian manner, it was thought, such revelations would destroy "the God-given, culture-supported harmony." In brief, in answer to the above questions about internalization, the strong group and grid culture is not necessarily conducive to the internali-zation of Gospel community based on thevalues of autonomy and mutual-ity. Rather, individuals are subjected to strong cultural forces or biases that are conducive to compliance or external acceptance of the group's ~values. Evangelization is apt to remain a thin veneer, something "purely decora-tive.'' 4° If.individuals are suddenl~ removed from such a culture, not infre-quently the fa~ilure to internalize the objective values of Christian autonomy -and mutuality shows up only too dramatically and painfully. For example, migrants who, within their countries of origin, have been living a form of cultural Catholicism are not likely to continue to practice their faith in the land of their adoption--unless there is a conversion and an internalization of Catholic values.4~ To the unsuspecting observer, therefore, the pleasantness that so often pervades the strong group and grid cultures may come across as thoroughly Christian and growth-oriented. But the reality, at times can be very different. "Sin,,' for example, can be conceived prima.rily as "individual failure in group obligations." "Sin" in this sense can. be "removed" not necessarily through a reconversion requiring deep interior change, but through a ritual of"face-saving" actions, e.g. the handing over of a certain amount of goods to the one or to the group offended:42 Evangelization of cultures, then, requires sensitivity both to their positive and negative features. "The Gos-pel," writes Paul VI, "[is] certainly not identical with culture."43 "Evaluation of the Weak Group and Weak Grid Culture There are some rather trenchant critiques of cultures that approximate to the weak group and grid culture model. In Australia, claims Ronald Conway, the vigo'rous cultural s.upport for individualism and the competi-tive pursuit of material happiness has left many an Australian "blank-souled," "a starved captive in a dungeon created by generations of either not caring or dreading to show care.''44 He speaks of "fragile foundations of impoverished interpersonal communication."45 In America, social critic John Kavanaugh believes that "Christianity at 1~6 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 rock bottom radically conflicts with American culture, even subverts its';46 He believes that individualism, the ruthless, competitive pursuit of material happiness and achievement all conflict with Gospel values. Historian David Potter's insights would support this view. He argues that the search for personal freedom, coupled with the rejection of any society-ascribed statuses, has gone so far within the American ethos that people have become involved in a never-ending search through work for improved, personally achieved statuses. The loneliness, isolation, insecurity and ten-sions, he states, that result within individuals who are caught up in this '~status rat race" are enormous and overpowering for many individuals.47 Christopher Lasch claims that in. America "the culture of competitive indi-vidualism., in its decadence has carried the logic of individualism to the extreme of a war of all against all, the pursuit of happiness to the end of a narcissistic .preoccupation with the self."48 Joseph Tetlow claims that American culture so stresses the value of good health and .the value of .being young that "This conviction stamps our religious experience in a very notable way and gives concrete shape to our spirituality. For Americans do not easily believe that Grd loves someone and has forgiven that person's sins as long as that person suffers in any way."~9 We need comment no further. So forceful can the weak group and grid culture be in exalting the powers and worth of the individual that terms'like "human interdependence," "mutuality," "social justice" and "compassion for the marginal" sound almost sinful! Compassion; social justice, Charity, mutuality--are atthe very heart of the Christian message. If culture vigor-ously supports the contrary values--as does the weak group and grid culture then individuals are under strong pressure at least to comply with such forces. Not to comply is to be considered odd, a dropout, one who does not believe in the importance of status-seeking. ' Given these comments, readers will now be rather suspicious of the second comment, regarding a religious community of students; which was given in the introduction to this article. The words "[th6 students] rarely come together: this shows their maturity" rather reflect the wider cultural stress on "rugged individualism" in the sense pictured above. Members of that religious formation house may well find the following description highly congenial to their cultural tastes: "Commt:nity is seen as a necessary encumbrance, for the paying of bills, for security, or just for convenience . Use of the car and enough money for each member to become independent becomes the major issues."5° Recently Eugene Kennedy, summarizing social criticism of America (and by implication, similar cultures), noted the "elevation of the individual and his or her own world to a dizzying centrality in life. A new Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1147 authoritarianism resides in the unattached person, a tyranny is exercisedby a person who counts on nobody, affiliates loyally with no one,.and finds the beginning and end of gratification in the self .This leads to a muted ethical sense."~ These weak group and grid characteristics have no place within religious communities. But Philip Slater, another perceptive critic, while agreeing with Kennedy and others about the excessive individualism, believes also that there is a desire--however weak--for community, for the opportunity to share with others in a spirit of trust and cooperation.52 Evangelization needs to relate to this aspiration. Inculturation and Conversion We return to a deeper understanding of inculturation. It is the dynamic and critical interaction between the Gospel message and each culture. This is a radically different process from that of acculturation. The latter is a process of culture change in which ~ore or less continuous contact between two ormore culturally distinct groups results in one group taking over elements of the culture of the other group or groups. For example, when, in the course of the last century, Christianity came to Samoa in the South, Pacific, it took deep roots in the local society. But at least at one key level Christidnity became acculturated to the existing system of traditional government. The traditional, chiefly rank system became sanctioned and supported by Jehovah himself, according to local interpretations of biblical history. When chiefs punished, Jehovah punished. The status quo became utterly frozen, supported now with supernatural sanctions. Little wonder if Christian ministers themselves became equivalently chiefs, wielding consid-erable power and°authority--all in the name of Jehovah. Christianity lost its freedom at a crucial level; it became trapped in the traditional authority system .53 John Futrell points out a more contemporaryexample of acculturation. When reflecting on what happened to religious life following Vatican If, he wrote on how religious acculturated values and customs of the consumer culture into their own lifestyle: "Along with th& affirmation of the world came a rapid a~similation of the lifestyle of the social subject being served . Religious began more and more" to live the way of upper-middle-class families and unconsciously fell prey to a creeping consumerism.TM How then can such acculturation be avoided? How in fact does incultu-ration take place, so that religious communities can reflect Gospel values? Who does the inculturation? John Paul II offers the answers to these questions, lnculturation, he says, must be the fruit of maturity~'in faith; it requires ',a great deal of 8411 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 theologicai lucidity, spiritual discernment, wisdom and prudence, and also time . [and] there is always a conversion to be effected., to the person of Christ,"5.SElsewhere, he insists that inculturation "presupposes a long and courageous process., in order that the Gospel may penetrate the soul of living cultures.''56 Then there will be "the liberation, the purification, the transfiguration" desired by Jesus Christ.57' There is no shortcut to inculturation, no room for gimmicks, It requires, following John Paul II: -a lucid vision of religious life; -a critical reflection on cultures in light of this vision; -personal and community ongoing conversion. 1. Vision of Religious Life Religious accept, as the basic orientation of their lives, that all Christians "of whatever rank or status are called to. the fullness of the Christian life. and the perfection of charity."58 Religious without res

Issue 30.1 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 6X2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Lonis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Bnildlng; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW vor¢ RELtOtOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Bonlevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUN, I BER I REVIEW FOR Volume 30 1971 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Duluth, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 8.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI - GIOUS is indexed in the Catho-lic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edi-tion of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michi-gan 48106, RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. The Experience of Crisis Since the conclusion of Vatican II a state of crisis in the Church and the religious life has produced a similar state in the lives of many religious. Values and goals, formerly held "as sacrosanct and essential, have been called into question and, in some cases, abandoned. Ways of living, traditional to an order or congregation for centuries, have been replaced. Members, once thought to be as settled in their vocations as the proverbial Rock of Gibraltar, have departed. Changes requested by the Vatican Council as necessary for renewal have sometimes failed to come about or have taken place with soul-jarring suddenness. There exists a seeming incompatibility between the old and the new, the young and the old. As a consequence, it is not surprising that a number of priests and nuns find themselves unable to face squarely what is taking place and then to make the necessary adjustments in their own way of thinking and acting to allow them to live com-fortably and productively in the religious life as it exists today. They have reached a point in their lives that can best be described as a crisis. The state of crisis is an immediate but transitory life episode in which the individual is taxed beyond his adaptive powers, resulting in an intense, distressing psy-chological experience.1 It is a period when a person is exposed to threats and demands at or near the limits of his coping resources? In his own mind, he frequently feels that he is asked to do the impossible. Under normal conditions, he would make use of his usual repertoire of coping devices; in the crisis situation, these prove ineffec-tive. 3 He sees no solution; he begins to panic and soon finds himself experiencing such psychiatric symptoms as severe anxiety, depression, and mental confusion. He feels 1 R. S. Lazarus, Psychological Stress and the Coping Process (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. 2. -" K. S. Miller and I. Iscoe, "The Concept of Crisis: Current Status and Mental Health Implications," Human Organization, v. 22 (1963), pp. 195-201. s Gerald Caplan, Principles o[ Preventive Psychiatry (New York: Basic Books, 1964). 4- 4- 4- Richard P. Vaughan, S.J., is the provincial for education of the California Prov-ince; P.O. Box 519; Los Gatos, Califor-nia 95030. VOLUME :}0, 1971 helpless in the face of what appears to be an insoluble problem.4 Reacting to Stressful Situations No two people respond to an anxiety-provoking situa-tion in exactly the same way. One religious accepts drastic changes in his rule and way of living with apparent equanimity; a second is obviously shaken but collects his resources and copes with the situation while a third lapses into a state of incapacitating panic. The factors account-ing for this difference are threefold: (1) the structure of personality; (2) the nature of the environmental stress or stresses; and (3) the state of one's faith. The proportion that each of these factors contributes to the experience of crisis varies from individual to individual. As a consequence of inherited endowment, the ef-ficacy with which the developmental tasks of the various stages of life were accomplished, environmental circum-stances, and one's own deliberate choices, each one of us develops a unique personality. Some have strong per-sonalities; others, weak; most of us fall at one of the innumerable gradations between these two poles. The well-balanced religious is the one who is usually happy, contented, and able to meet at least adequately, if not well, most of the demands placed upon him. The neurotic religious is the one who lacks contentment, is dissatisfied, and unable to withstand the usual stresses of religious life. When he is confronted with the unrest and uncer-tainty ,so prevalent in communities today, he literally " "falls apart." He does not have the inner strength to face issues vitally affecting his life. We all have neurotic traits or tendencies. Some have more than others. The more of these traits, the more difficult it is to cope with stressful situations. The nature of a particular neurotic mechanism also limits adaptabil-ity. It should be noted that one need not be severely neurotic to undergo a crisis. The seemingly healthy reli-gious with several neurotic tendencies can also reach such a state. 4- 4- 4- R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 Meaning of Environmental Stresses Environmental stresses precipitating a crisis are mani-fold. Needless to say, some situations by their very nature are more disturbing than others. For many, initiating a new form of authority in a community or abandoning the traditional horarium will be more anxiety-provoking than a modificatiofi, of the habit.or mode of dress. Of greater importance, however, is the meaning the stressful situation has for the individual. The same situation can 4 Miller and Iscoc, Concept of Crisis, pp. 195-6. affect two people in quite different ways.~ For one it can be a motivating factor to participate in bringing about renewal whereas for the other it becomes a debilitating crisis. In the latter case, the individual is overcome by feelings of frustration and helplessness. The failure of his congregation to realize the ideal attacks his own ide-alism, something close to the core of his personality.6 Often such a person is lacking sufficient, security to allow him to live patiently under existing conditions, trusting in the benevolence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit. A feeling of hopelessness coupled with depression takes over and he sees no alternative but to abandon his commit-ment. The perception of these two individuals (lifter radically. The security and inner strength of the one per-mits him to see the congregation's assets as well as its limitations while the insecurity and weakness of the other causes him to look at only the natural limitations. It should be noted, however, that not all deciding to withdraw from the religious life are doing so because of insecurity and personality weakness. Reasons for such a decision are numerous and complex. Each case should be evaluated on an individual basis. Unfortunately some studies on departures from the priesthood and religious life tend to overgeneralize, thus producing dubious re-suhs. Faith Faith is a third factor influencing one's reaction to a stressful situation. If what a person believes has deep per-sonal meaning and has been integrated into his personal-ity, anything considered an attack on this belief will often be looked upon as an attack on himself. It is for this reason that some react with violent opposition when traditional doctrines and practices .are called into ques-tion. An inability to settle such questioning in a per-sonally satisfying way can result in a crisis. On the other hand, if an individual's faith in God and the Church is weak, he finds it relatively easy to abandon it. Recent events in the Church and in religious life are not likely to precipitate a crisis, since he has few emotional attach-ments to either. Cons'equences of Crisis The experience of crisis affects many areas of function-ing, the most pressing of which deal with emotional well-being. A common reaction, as we have stated, is a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness leading to depression,z + 4- Lazarus, Psychological Stress, p. 56. Ibid., p. 6. Miller and Iscoe, Concept o] Crisis, p. 196. VOLUME 30, 1971 5 ÷ ÷ I{. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 As the crisis . h~ightens, anxiety increases, producing greater inactivity.8 An inability to meet the demands of a situation and to arrive at needed decisions results in a desire to escape. Many under severe stress experience an urge to run away; where makes no difference just as long as they can distance themselves from the threatening en-vironment. The major drawback of giving way to such an urge is that the crisis is internal and often continues in the new environment. The person in crisis also finds that he becomes disor-ganized in his work.'a Whereas previously he was able to handle his assignments with proficiency and competence, he now discovers that he is unable to concentrate and that he makes numerous mistakes. He can no longer force himself to prepare his classes or sometimes even to enter the classroom. His inability to take hold of himself and regain his former efficiency only increases his sense of hopelessness. Under severe stress an individual's perception of a situation and its ramifications is limited.10 He tends to concentrate on a small, sometimes unimportant portion of a situation and overlook many significant aspects. He is unable to see the true problem confronting him. For example, the religious in crisis often finds himself unable to place in proper perspective the Church and the reli-gious life as they exist today; he concentrates on one or two shortcomings appearing to him as insurmountable barriers to happiness, such as the failure of some superiors to treat subjects as persons or bishops governing from a stance of excessive legalism. He then calls into question the validity of the whole life. He lacks a balanced view and therefore is in no position to make a decision and then act on the basis of this decision. Unfortunately, a number of priests and sisters decide to abandon their commitment during a period when they are no longer open to all possible options and when they are incapable of seeing all the implications of their deci-sion. They simply feel trapped i.n a life presenting many frustrations and obstacles. They take the only apparent course open to them, when they should have been en-couraged to forego any far-reaching decisions and to wait until they can evaluate fully all the factors involved in their distressing situation. For this reason, a change in status or a leave of absence is much preferred to the finalized dispensation from the vows. It can be hoped ~ Sheldon J. Lorchin in The Encyclopedia o/Mental Health, v. 6 (New York: Franklin Watts, 1963), pp. 1975-82. "Jack R. Ewalt in Man under Stress ed. Seymour Farber (Berkeley: University o~ California, 1964), p. 39. ~0 Richard P. Vaughan, An Introduction to Religious Counseling (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969), p. 93. that once they have distanced themselves from the stress-provoking environment and become engrossed in a differ-ent setting, emotional equilibrium will return and even-tually a decision based on reason can be reached. Helping the Religious in Crisis What can be done to help the religious in crisis? The first thing needed is an understanding listener to counter-act the feeling of isolation and helplessness. The priest or sister should be encouraged to express how he or she feels as well as some of the despondent thoughts accom-panying these feelings. Spontaneous expression estab-lishes the listener as an interested, and, hopefully, a help-ful person.11 It allows the religious to become consciously aware of his emotional state and eventually to appraise" the reasons for his anxiety, fear, and depression. Initially, there will probably be an outpouring of negativism, an-ger, and despondency. As the emotional turmoil begins to subside, a more realistic evaluation occurs. Since in the eyes of the disturbed religious everything looks so hope-less, the listener is often tempted to feel the same way. He is apt to think: "Things have gone too far, there is nothing I can do," whereas a little patience and time plus a manifestation of genuine concern can produce re-markable results. Until relative calm is reestablished, few, it any, rational decisions can be reached; hence pushing a discussion in the direction of reasons for and against taking a position is apt to be fruitless. What the religious needs most is support and reassur-ance that eventually he will return to his former state of mind.1-0 In the meantime the fact that he has someone he can trust and on whom he can lean means a great deal. Occasionally a situation demands some lesser decisions and action, something the individual is incapable of doing without reassurance and direct guidance. In gen-eral, however, the best principle is to make no far-reach-ing decisions during a period of crisis. Perhaps the greatest assistance that can be given is the advice not to decide or act until he can make a valid, reasonable deci-sion. Inactivity and withdrawing are two common symptoms accompanying a period of crisis. To counteract these, some definite form of activity commensurate with his psychological state shonld be encouraged. XYalking with another, playing a game of tennis or golf, or assisting an-other in some relatively simple office chore can all be 4- + 4- Crisis ~: Leopold Bcllak and Leonard Small, Emergency Psychotherapy and Brie] Psychotherapy (New York: Gruenc and Stratton, 1965), p. v0t.ut~E 101. a~ Ibid. 7 beneficial. Time to ruminate and brood should be elim-inated insofar as possibIe. If a religious manifests the symptoms of crisis for sev-eral months and appears unable to regain his former self, then professional assistance should be sought. It is quite probable that a neurotic condition is blocking the abil-ity to cope with the environmental situation provoking the state of crisis. + + R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 GEORGE L. COULON, C.S.C., AND ROBERT J. NOGOSEK, C.S.C; Religious Vows as Commitment In this day when so many religious are leaving their communities, a question presses on the minds of both young and old: What is the value today of perpetual vows? For religious professed already ten or twenty years this question can be very disturbing during this period of dramatic change in the life of the Church. For young religious, as they approach final vows, the problem some-times takes the form of another question: How can I make a lifelong commitment to religious life? How can I pos-sibly anticipate today what I will think and feel ten, twenty, thirty years from now, when the world, the Church, religious life, and I myself may change almost beyond recognition? Three Interpretations To enter upon this question, it should be noted that religious live the commitment of their vows in various ways, not so much perhaps from what they were taught explicitly in formation, as from what they were seeking in entering the community, and also from the types of loyalty and idealism elicited through their subsequent experiences in the community. It would seem that three distinct interpretations of this commitment are typically the following: 1. Some live out their religious life as basically a devo-tion to their institute. They identify themselves with the structures and traditions of the community and with the institutions it has built up. They take a basic pride in belonging to this particular religious institute and have devoted their energies to improving its function, prestige, and influence in society. 2. Other religious see their commitment as centered on people rather than on what is institutional. They will say they entered the religious life to find Christian George L. Cou- Ion and Robert J. Nogosek teach the-ology at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 30, 1971 9 ÷ G.L. Coulon and R. 1. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community. Their interpretation accentuates the idea of primary, face-to-face relationships. It puts its finger on an aspect of religious life that is very reall human, and true. It recognizes that the community is the soul of the institute and is what most really makes the insti-tute a coherent and stable historical reality. Despite the most radical institutional changes, it is really made up of its personnel. It sees that the community is a more important human reality than the institute with all its organized apostolates which identify the members with the institutions. 3. A third way of looking at the commitment of the religious life is that of a quest for salvation, or an at-taining of Christian perfection. In this interpretation, one entered the religious life because of the ideal of the Christian life it represented. Tbe vows were seen as a commitment to become a good religious and. to realize in oneself a deep life of prayer and a fruitful service to God's People. These, then, are three interpretations which we feel are rather frequent among religious concerning the commitment they are living out by their vows. They can be designated as (1) the institutional, (2) the communi-tarian (or personalistic), and (3) the'specifically religious interpretations of the religious vows. It is our thesis that much difficulty comes to religious because of ihese in-terpretions, for we maintain that they are all defective theologically, whether taken singly or even all together. In our opinion they simply do not express adequately what the commitment of the religious vows is supposed to be according to the gospel and the tradition of the Church. Temptations to Leave As evidence of their inadequacy, we see in each inter-pretation definite occasions leading one to abandon the vows. These interpretations of the commitment made by the vows really will not hold up satisfactorily to some rather ordinary temptations to get a canonical dispensa-tion from final vows and view the commitment as termi-nated. 1. In the case of the institutional commitment, what happens to that commitment if the religious institute changes radically in its structures and institutions? Can this any longer be called the same community we en-tered? One could then question the continuance of the commitment of the vows by arguing that their object hardly exists any longer. Everything has changed--the dress, the rule, the customs, the works. So then how can one be held in God's sight to vows made to something which has changed so much as no longer to be the same? 2. Other kinds of temptations to leave are likely to come to those committed to personal community. What if our friends have left, or we simply fail to find the warmth and virtue of true Christian community in the congregation? What if we find much truer community with friends outside? If our commitment of the vows is basically motivated by the quest for community, then if we come to feel that community is very inadequate in our own institute, we will be strongly inclined to leave and to seek fellowship where it is experienced as much more alive. 3. Even the specifically religious interpretation con-tains occasions for the temptation to leave. What if we find that we have not become good religious, that the religious form of life has not led us to an intense prayer life or a successful apostolate? What if we feel ourselves dying on the vine, where the test of years shows we have not realized in our lives the ideal we were seeking by taking vows? If this way of life has not brought us to the deep union with God we were expecting, we may be tempted to leave. A More Adequate Theology As remedy for such reasonings against perseverance, there is needed a much more adequate theological in-terpretation of the commitment of the religious vows. Such an interpretation should attempt to express as clearly and coherently as possible a Christian reflection upon religious life as it is experienced and interpreted thematically in the Church's tradition. In that tradition, at least from medieval times on, reoligious life has been considered as a special way of living the gospel. And this special way has been expressed most characteristically in the evangelical themes of poverty, celibacy, and obedi-ence. Religious profession of the three vows represented very basically a public confession of the power of the gospel at work existentially in one's life. It was also the recognition that in this special and chosen way of life there was present an effective way of growing in the perfection of charity. In terms of the human experience of this way of life, each of the vows can be seen as standing for both a nega-tive and a positive element. The negative element in-volves the renunciation of genuine human values. The positive element involves the affirmation of the trans-cendent power of the gospel and of divine love over even the highest human values. If a theology of the religious.vows is to approach ade-quacy, it must be able somehow to integrate the insights of the three common interpretations we have cited and at the same time all.eviate what might.be called their in- 4. 4- + Religious ¥ows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 11 ÷ 4. 4. G, L. Coulon and R. J. Nogo~e~ REVIffW FOR RELIGIOUS herent temptations to non-perseverance. What we pro-pose is a dynamic interplay of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious aspects under the dem~inds of God's grace. In this dynamic, poverty represents the re-nunciation of the institutional element as an ultimate demand and affirms the supremacy of the community element over it; celibacy represents the renunciation of the ultimate supremacy of the communitarian element and affirms the supremacy of the religious over the com-munitarian; and obedience represents the renunciation of the religious element as ultimate and affirms the abso-lute supremacy of grace and God's reign. It is the last element which completes the dynamic and is to be recog-nized as the Christian basis for religious profession along with a Christian reaffirmation of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious quest. The Commitment of Poverty The first of the evangelical themes to consider is pov-erty. it would seem that the most obvious meaning of religious poverty is the renunciation of wealth, power, and prestige. This is not to affirm the intrinsic value of destitution or lack of material goods, but rather ex-presses a preference for the simple hnman life o~ the little people of this world over the riches, affluence, and sophistication of those considered socially important. But by religious profession we enter into a religious institute; and it should be recognized that there is built into every institution, even those professing poverty, a strong tend-ency toward the acquisition of the precise human values renounced by poverty, namely, of wealth, power, and prestige. Consequently, in the spirit of evangelical pov-erty, there is frequent need for the religious institute to be pruned of its power, wealth, and prestige. Sometimes this pruning is actively undertaken by reforming and zealous leadership from within the institute. But more often it is done by forces from without, whether they be persecuting enemies or simply the changing situa-tion which undercuts the prestige and influence that an institute and its members previously had. In other words, the attitude of religious poverty involves not only the personal striving for a simple and humble life because it is evangelical, but also the willingness o~ the institute and its members to accept radical changes in the institute itself. This is probably the most deeply purifying aspect of religious poverty today, for even institutes which ap-pear to be affluent may actually be in serious jeopardy regarding their very existence. If the readiness to renounce the institutional fixity and security of religious life is the negative aspect of poverty, its positive aspect is the affirmation of community and of the supremacy of community over institute. Stated sim-ply, this means that people and human relations are more important than efficiency and order. It is the recog-nition that the friendship and love of its members are a deeper and more stabilizing reality than the institute's more public, organizational strength and cohesiveness. The spirit of poverty recognizes that human beings, feelings, and personal relationships are very often more important than reason and structural orderliness. This positive aspect of poverty is merely a specialized mode of Christian charity and an effective way of growing in it. It might be summed up in Paul's admonition: "Bear one another's burdens and thus fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). The sharing of common life is not just a sharing of board and material goods. It is more deeply a sharing of humanness, of cares and ~anxieties, joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, actuated through love. Such is the very deep human reality affirmed by evangeli-cal poverty. When poverty is interpreted in the Biblical sense of God's special love for the little people who are often crushed by oppressive power structures, then it becomes a theme readily understood and appreciated by many of the rising generation today. Furthermore, the sharing of both material possessions and personal burdens as cor-porate affirmations of evangelical poverty responds to ideals meaningful and attractive today, even though ad-mittedly very difficuh to realize in actual practice. In any case, looking at poverty in this way does provide a remedy to the temptation of leaving the religious life ¯ because of radical institutional changes. Actually, the insecurity occasioned by such changes give the religious an opportunity to live out his profession of poverty more deeply in its renouncement of worldly security and .prestige, and also in its affirmation that people are more ~mportant than structures and things. According to the spirit of the poor Christ, the future is made secure not by possessions or good administration, but directly by reliance on the love and care of divine providence. Moreover, all laws and organizations are to be judged not on their merits as customs and tradition, but rather as service to real needs of real people. There were hardly any religious traditions as sacred to Israel as those regu-lating the Sabbath, yet Jesus pointedly declared: "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath" (Mk 2:27). The Commitment of Celibacy Celibacy is the renunciation of the intimacy of mar-riage and married love. It is the giving up of the kind of companionship and fulfilhnent specifically found in 4- 4- 4- Reli~iou~ as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 ]3 + + + G. L. Coulon and R. J. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 marriage and family life. Certainly this is the sacrifice of very great human values, and snch a renunciation is bound to leave a certain hole or void in our lives and be very keenly felt in hours of loneliness and frustration. Coukl it not be that in the intense desire for "com-mnnity" spoken of so much today among religious there is something of the yearning for the kind of personal shar-ing normally found in marriage and blood relationships? This would not mean to condemn such a normal and instinctive yearning, and community life should strive as best it can to create an atmosphere of home. But never-theless celibacy does renounce family and marriage. The readiness to leave father, mother, husband, wife, sister, brother for the sake of following Christ is the affirma-tion of the relative value even of these most wonderfnl human realities of intimacy and fellowship in marriage and family life. This means that ~ust as poverty is the rennnciation and relativization of the institutional to affirm the su-premacy of the community, so in turn celibacy is tl~e renunciation and relativization of the community ele-ment to affirm the supremacy of the strictly religious. Now of all the features of religious life today, perhaps celibacy is the hardest for Western secularized man to appreciate, since in modern philosophies the sharing of persons characteristic of marriage has become a strong contender for the place of absolute value in human life. To renounce this particular value out of love for the un-seen Lord readily appears to many of our age as dehu-manizing folly. Of course, the argument that celibacy makes one more available for service to people contin-ues to give it some humanistic value; but in accordance with the gospel its motivation is supposed to be a direct, loving companionship with Christ. What is affirmed is love of Christ, direct union with Him in friendship; and the service of His people is to be an overflow and witness of this love, wherein we share in His own mission and love those (lear to Him with His own love. Celibacy thus affirms that personal union with Christ is a religions value so great and appealing to the hnman heart that we will sacrifice for it even the great human values of conjugal and family intimacy. That such re-nouncement of human community con/d result in full-ness rather than emptiness of heart will always remain a paradox and mystery. Bnt to know the risen Lord in friendship is already a beginning of His final Appeariug and thus represents a concrete anticipation already in this life of the riches of the eschatological kingdom of God. It implies a divine gift of living out an eschatologi-cal love where fellowship with others is based on sharing in the direct and intimate fellowship with the Lord, such that one finds union with the hearts of one's fellow hu-man beings fundamentally through one's personal union with God. This should mean, then, that the absence of human community should be no argument to abandon the vows to seek it elsewhere, for one's religious calling is to share Christ's mission of bringing the dead to life and building up the kingdom of love. The calling to renunciation of marriage is in the very confirming of a union with Christ and His own mission of redeeming man through reconciliation and building fellowship. The vocation is to love with Christ's freedom, to decide to be available as a grace to others for their sake, and the source of tiffs is the direct; personal friehdship with Christ. The mission is to bring about the fellowship of Christ-in-us, and the grace to do this comes through the religious union with Christ as beloved. Those who seek only the achieved fel-lowship want the kingdom without sharing Christ's effort to build the kingdom. They want the risen glory without sharing the way of suffering and self-crucifixion, which ac-cording to God's mysterious plan is necessary to its full realization. The Commitment of Obedience Often religious obedience has been presented as an attitnde of snbmission to legitimate superiors. Certainly obedience as compliance with authority is a necessary part of any ordered society; without it chaos is just around the corner. Obedience in this very human sense is one aspect of religious obedience. But the Biblical theme of obedience to God's reign is much more com-prehensive than simply submission to religious author-ity. It is not first of all a passive submission, but rather an active acceptance and a willing of the will of God, somehow found in every person we meet, in every place we live, and in every decision we and others have made that has affected our lives. Even in every failure to at-tain our aspirations the reign of God somehow triumphs. In other words, when we speak of religious obedience in the spirit of Jesus, we refer to the attitude of full ac-ceptance of God calling us to a personal destiny in and through the very stuff of our lives, including the people, events, failings, and attainments that make up our his-tory and our very self. The theme of evangelical obedi-ence is intimately tied np with the divine mystery of vocation and the human mystery of self-acceptance. It recognizes that in Christ the reign of God is present and at hand over our lives. In our acceptance that God's will is being revealed in and through our lives, we are also being led to that full and active self-acceptance which somehow enables us to come to grips with our-÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment 4. 4. 4. G. L. Coulon and R. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 selves anti find a deep, inner peace throngh accepting and loving ourselves just as we are. Evangelical obedience is evidenced by tl~e saying of lesus that His food is to do the will of the Father (see ~n 4:34). He is sent fromthe Father to fulfill a destiny pre-establisbed by God's choice. As sons in the Son, we too are to acknowledge that we are chosen in Christ, that from all eternity our lives have been uniquely pre-ordained in terms of following Christ and sharing in His destiny (see Eph 1:3-7). We are called into His Church to bear fruit through living by His word and building up the kingdom of God on pathways .already prepared for us by providence (see Eph 2:10; Pb 2:13). We are to live in response to the calling and destiny chosen by the Father. Tiffs means living out of a fundamental decision of submitting to God's will over onr lives, whatever it is, even if it means accepting a chalice of suffering. The vow of obedience concretizes this fundamental submission to God's reign over us by our acknowledging a calling to the religious life as God's will for our life. Taken publicly and accepted by Christ's Church in an official capacity, the vow by its very nature implicitly includes the other two vows as a covenant of religious life. The obedience vowed is a faithfulness to the reli-gious life in this community made out of response to the will of God over onr life. Once made and accepted in Christ's Chnrch, the pnblic vows remain as a perma-nent sign of divine vocation and our human acceptance. Such a recognition of God's reign signifies that it is not we who have first loved God, but God who has first loved us. It is not we who are to determine what is to be our fnlfilhnent, but God's will determines what we are to be. We enter the religious life not because it is our own best way to God as attainment of deep prayerful-ness and the fullness of Christian virtue, but rather simply because the religious life is God's will for us. To put this in the terminology we have used for the other vows, religious obedience is the renunciation and rela-tivization of the highest religious values and the affirma-tion of the supremacy of God's reign of love over every-thing else. It affirms that God's choice over us is the su-preme valne. We have become vowed to the religious life nltimately not because it is our best way to be saved, or even to exercise Christian service, but rather because God has chosen us thus to bear witness in the Body of Christ. Its basis is not that religions life is best for ns, or most appealing, but rather that we are meant to be reli-gious. This we bare affirmed by public vows in the Church, and made a personal covenant with God calling upon Him to accept this kind of offering of our whole life given as response to His will for us. This, then, provides a thorough r~medy to the tempta-tion of relinquishing the religious life should it seem that we are not being thereby fulfilled as Christians. The event of our public covenant of vows remains a perma-nent indication of our vocation and our self-acceptance under God's plan. Should this be doubted as a sign of God's will, where are we to find a surer sign? What cri-terion could be presented by providence as dissolving the terms of the covenant already made and accepted through Christ's Church? That we are not good religious is no argument for leaving, since this points out our own un-faithfulness to the covenant and its recogriition is a sign that grace would lead us to repentance. That our prayer life be dried up or our apostolic efforts unfruitful and frustrated is no sign against continuing our covenant, for we have already acknowledged that the supreme value is not our own will or our own way to God, but rather that God wills us to be religious. His love is to be su-preme, even over the highest values of what we consider our own religious fulfillment. The aspect of obeying religious authority readily fits into this framework of obedience to God's will as destin-ing us to the religious life. Included in our response to that will is faithfulness to the duties of being a religious called along with others to form an evangelical and apo-stolic community. The obedience committed means a dedication to the common good of the community, re-sponsible for serving God's people. This common good is spelled out in many details by the legislation and govern-ing officials of the community. Thus, a docility and re-sponsibility to the assignments and direction of superiors fits into the context of obeying God's will that we be dedicated to our calling as religious. Even the absence of such leadership and management leaves us with our basic responsibility to the common good of community and apostolate. Conclusion We have tried to demonstrate theologically that mak-ing final vows is of its very nature an irrevocable event in our lives. It is a life decision involving a commitment until death, because through this particular institute, through this particular community of persons, and through this acknowledgement of God's reign over our destiny, we have made a covenant with God concerning what we are called to be in Christ's Body. Our perse-verance in the vows comes down to faithfulness and trust. The faitlffulness acknowledges the self-perception of the basic meaning of our life, of what onr life calling is ac-cording to God's design. The trust acknowledges that God has accepted our life-offering under the terms of the + ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 vows. Our fundamental Christian witness will always re-main not our own virtue, but rather the acceptance of the Father's will, even should this mean our own weak-ness rather than strength, loneliness rather than human fellowship, and agony rather than the joy of success in our aspirations. + + + G. L. Coulon and R. ]. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 SISTER JUDITH ANN WICK Identity and Commitment of Youn9 Sisters in a Religious Community Abstract: Weak ego identity and hesitancy of commitment are characteristics of contemporary society which are manifest in all institutions, including the religious institution. This study of young sisters with temporary commitments to a re-ligious community of women investigates the function of role models in the attainment of religious role identity, as well as the goal and duration of commitment. The data indicate that role models are influential in the identity formation of these young sisters, that the goal of commitment is ideological rather than organizational, and that opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment. The past ten years, characterized by rapid social change, have demanded from individuals and institutions a degree of self-examination and adaptation not called for in previous decades. To survive in contemporary so-ciety, institutions and individuals must search for and question their purpose and identity. This climate is per-vasive; it has penetrated what were formerly regarded as the "secnre" places in society where one was assured o[ identity and purpose. This paper illustrates the perva-siveness of social change, showing how change in secular society, coupled with change in the Catholic Church has converged to create problems of identity and institutional loyalty for young members in a religious com~nunity of women. Change in Secular Society Contemporary America's society makes it difficult for an individual to achieve a strong ego identity. Erikson defines ego identity as a unity of personality, felt by the individual and recognized by others, having consistency in time, and being an "irreversible historical fact" (1960: 11). Several factors in a technological society mili- Sister Judith Ann is a member o[ the sociology depart-ment o[ Briar Cliff College; ~03 Re-becca Street; Sioux City, Iowa ~1104. VOLUME 30, 1971 19 + 4. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O tate against this unity, consistency, and historical conti-nuity. Keniston enumerates these factors in the following manner: "Rapid and chronic social change, fragmenta-tion and specialization of tasks, decline of traditional 'gemeinschaft' communities, discontinuity between a warm, dependent childhood and a cold, independent adult world, theabsence of a utopian, positive myth for society, and the predominance of the rational in a 'tech-nological ego' " (1960). Ego identity is achieved by a complex interaction of factors, one of the most important being the observation of others acting out the role one hopes to fulfill himself someday. Observation of role models is difficult also. Age and sex roles are less clearly defined today than they were formerly, in part because the adult models which young persons have to follow are often inadequate for one who mnst find his place in a technological society: The young, who have outlived the social definitions of child-hood and are not yet fully located in the world of adult com-mitments and roles, are most immediately torn between the pulls of the past and the future. Reared by elders who were formed in a previous version of the society, and anticipating a life in a still different society, they must somehow choose be-tween competing versions of the past and future (Erikson, 1963: 169). As adult models become less influential in establishing norms for the decisions of the young, the range of choices involved in the decision-making process expands. Para-doxically, as the chances for a secure ego identity have decreased, the freedom [or independent decision-making has increased. Other factors in addition to the disappear-ance of adult role models have contributed to this free-dom. Career opportunities have multiplied with advanc-ing technology, and the number of careers open to women has increased. These factors have combined to create a situation in which the young person searching for his basic ego identity is confronted with a wide range of possibilities and practically unlimited freedom to choose. The decreasing influence of role models and the in-crease in freedom of choice are accompanied by a reluct-ance on the part of young people to ratify adult values. This expresses itself in a detachment and lack of enthusi-asm which restrains them from "going overboard" and so helps to avoid a damaging commitment to a false life style or goal (Erikson, 196~; 169). Erikson calls this hesi-tancy and period of delay in commitment "role morato-rium." One delays accepting certain values and in the intervening time "tests the rock-bottom" of these values (1963: 11). Change in the Catholic Church Weak ego identity and the accompanying independ-ence of choice and hesitancy of commitment are results of changes which have ramifications in the sacred as well as the secular realm. The religious realm formerly was the haven of security where an individual could be certain of finding out who he was and where he was going. The Catholic Church, characterized by an unchangeableness which held it aloof from the turmoil of secular society, was the prime example of an institution that still pro-vided the perplexed individual with answers to his ques-tions. The religious subculture was well-defined, stable, confidence-inspiring, and secure (Emery, 1969: 41). However, the technological changes which brought about rapid social change in secular society also affected the sacred element in society. Within the Catholic Church, the Second Vatican Council which met from 1962 until 1965 was a response to the changing secular society. The Council was an attempt to reform practi.ces within the Church to make them more meaningful to contemporary man. In order to do this the strong link which the Church had. with the past was broken. The continuity of external practices which had been mistak-enly identified as essential to faith was gone, and the same insecurity and lack of identity experienced in the secular world was present in the religious realm. With its emphasis on collegiality rather than concen-tration of all authority in one individual, the Council expanded the decision-making power of individuals within the Church. Not only, then, did the individual find external, non-essential practices changed, but he found himself confronted with a range of choices and freedom in decision-making in the sacred realm of his life. What had once been stable and unchanging took on the same changeable, impermanent characteristics of the rest of society, and what had once been an unquestioning commitment to an unchangeable institution became a less certain and hesitant identification with a set of be-liefs and practices which had been accepted without test-ing their value. Change in Religious Communities The changes in secular society and in the Catholic Church have radically affected religious communities of women. Once considered the most "total" of institutions, communities have been undergoing a "de-totalization" process, brought about by the Second Vatican Council and the rapid rate of social change in the secular world. The most visible changes have been in the area of clothing and rules regarding relationships and activities ÷ + ÷ ~dentity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 21 ÷ Sister Judith A nn 22 outside of what were formerly considered the "bounda-ries" of the religious community. These changes in exter-nal characteristics, like similar changes in the Church, have broken a visible link with the past and made the identity of a religious sister less dependent upon external symbols and behavior patterns. With these changes has come an emphasis on individual responsibility and free-dom of choice, thereby altering the relationship between the individual sister and the institution of the religious community. Loyalty to the institution no lo/iger means responding to directives from those in authority since collegiality gives authority to all. Changes in the institu-tion make the permanent commitment required by the religious community appear less desirable. The hesitancy manifested in the secular world in regard to assuming a value or life style that might not be functional in the [t~ture has its counterpart in religious communities. It is not coincidental that the theology of a temporary reli-gious vocation appeared for the first time less than five years ago (Murphy, 1967; Orsy, 1969; Schleck, 1968; Smith, 1964). It is obvious that the identity of a religious sister and her commitment to the religious community are not measured by the same criteria as they were in the past. The new definitions of identity and commitment are not yet clear and are dependent upon individual characteris-tics. Given these changes within religious communities, the recruit to religious life no longer enters a stable and permanent organization with older members serving as role models. The new identity she is to assume and the institution to which she is to commit herself are as ambig-uous as her previous experiences in the secular world. Young members of a religious community still involved in the socialization process of their "formation" years have come from a secular situation in which ambiguity of identity and lack of permanence are dominant character-istics. It is to be expected that their prior experiences in this type of secular society, coupled with the changes in religious organizations, will influence their identity as religious sisters and their commitment to the organiza-tion in which they are being socialized. It is the purpose of this study to investigate the identity and commitment of this group of sisters. Ti~e strength of identity as a religious sister is measured by the influence of role mod-els, with more influence indicative of stronger identity. Commitment refers to consistent lines of activity which persist over a period of time, serve in the pursuit of a goal, and imply the rejection of certain alternative cri-teria (Becket, 1960; 33). Two of these aspects of commit-ment-- the time element and the goal pursued~are con-sidered in this study. Methodology To investigate the identit-y and commitment of young sisters, a pretest using a structured interview schedule was conducted. Twenty-five sisters, all with one-year "tempo-rary" commitments to their religious community were interviewed.1 On the basis of these responses, a question-naire was constructed which included twelve questions with alternative responses listed and one open-ended question. Five of the twelve closed-ended questions dealt with basic demographic information--age, length of time in religious life, size of home town, size of town in which presently working, and type of work engaged in. Four dealt with the decision to enter religious life--time of the decision, influential factors, and permanency of the deci-sion as viewed at the time of entrance. The other three closed-ended questions were designed to secure informa-tion about the sister's present understanding of religious life, influential factors in arriving at this understanding, and factors keeping the sister in religious life. The open-ended question dealt with the sister's attitude toward permanent commitment to religious life. The questionnaire was sent to all temporarily comnait-ted sisters who were members of a single Midwestern religious community.'-' Eighty-eight questionnaires were distributed; eighty-one were returned. Five of these were eliminated because responses were incomplete or ambigu-ous. This left seventy-six questionnaires for analysis. Description oI the Sample The mean age of the sisters responding was 23.88 years. They had been members of the religious community from four to seven years, with 5.99 years being the mean number of years as a member. Forty-four (58 per cent) of the respondents decided to join the religious community during their senior year in high school. Fifteen sisters (20 per cent) decided earlier than their senior year, and sev-enteen (22 per cent) decided later. Thirty-eight sisters (50 per cent) identified their home towns as farms; another twelve (16 per cent) indicated that the size of their home town was less than 2500. Fourteen sisters (19 per cent) joined the religious com-munity from cities with a population of greater than x After a period of eight years during which a sister makes ooe- )'ear commitments to the religious community, she is eligible to make a permanent commitment. If she does not choose to do this, she leaves the religious community. She is also fi'ee to leave at the expiration of any of the one-year commitments. ~ Selecting the sample from the same religious community allows for control of the rate of change occurring within the religious com-munity and the type of formation program used in the socialization process of the young sisters. ÷ ÷ 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 23 TABLE 1 Occupations of Young Sisters Occupation No. of Sisters % of Sisters Primary grade teacher Middle grade teacher High school teacher Student Upper grade teacher Homemaker Religious education Nurse Other Total 16 14 12 12 9 4216 76 21% 19 15 15 11 6 19 100 + 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50,000. The remaining eleven (15 per cent) came from towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. When asked to indicate the size of the town in which they were presently working, twenty-three sisters (30 per cent) indicated towns of less than 2500; thirty-one sisters (44 per cent) indicated cities with populations of 50,000 or greater. The remaining twenty-one sisters (26 per cent) worked in towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. From this data it can be said that while 66 per cent of the respondents have non-urban (population less than 2500) origins, only 30 per cent are presently working in non-urban situations. On the other hand, while only 18 per cent of the sisters have large city (greater than 50,000) origins 44 per cent work in large city situations. Table 1 shows the types of work in which the subjects were involved. Fifty-one sisters (66 per cent) were engaged in teaching, with the greatest number of these being pri-mary teachers. Identity as a Religious Sister The respondents' role identity as a religious sister was determined by measuring the inltuence of role models. In this situation role models were defined as older sisters in the same religious community as the young sisters. Two questions were included in the questionnaire to deter-mine the strength of role model influence. One question asked: "What factor would you say influenced you most in deciding to enter religious life?" The second question was: "What would you say helped you the most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" Alterna-tives were provided for each of the questions, with space provided for other alternatives to be added. Respondents were instructed to choose only one alternative; those re-sponses including more than one alternative were consid-ered invalid. Response to the question concerning factors influenc- TABLE 2 Factors Influencing Decision to Join Rellg[ous Life Factor % of Sisters The idea that this was something God wanted me to do The conviction that this was the best way to serve Christ A sister in a religious community My family Other Invalid Total No. oI Sisters 47 11 8 2 44 76 61O/o 14 10 36 6 I00 ing the decision to join the religious community is shown in Table 2. From these data it is evident that role models ("a sister in a religious community") were not as influen-tial as other factors, accounting for only ten per cent of the responses. Forty-seven sisters (61 per cent) indicated that joining the religious community was influenced by motivation that could be classified as "supernatural." ("This was something that God wanted me to do.") Obviously, role models were not influential in the ini-tial step of assuming identity as a religious sister. How-ever, we cannot conclude from this that they were not influential at a later time in the young sister's life. Re-sponse to the question: "What would you say helped you most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" indicates that role models assume a new importance after a girl has joined the religious community. Table 3 indicates that thirty-nine sisters (51 per cent) indicated that role models ("living with and observing other sis-ters") were the most influential" factor in their present understanding of religious life. From the response to these two questions, it is evident that role models are more influential in the process of TABLE 3 Factor Most Influential in Present Understanding of Religious Life Factor No. of % of Sisters Sisters Living with and observing other sisters Personal reading and reflection Religious life classes Discussions with sisters my own age Other Invalid Total 39 9553 15 76 51% 11 77 5 19 100 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 identity formation after the sister joins the community than they are in the process of deciding to join. If the strength of role identity as a religious sister is estimated by the influence of role models, then it can be concluded from these data that, despite changes in the definition of the role, the majority of young sisters do have strong role identity as a religious sister and that this is developed by observation of role models. Goal of Commitmen~ Becker's definition cited earlier speaks of commitment in terms of activity in pursuit of a goal. Members of a religious community agree by their act of joining that community to pursue the goal of the community within guidelines for activity established by the organization. In a sense, then, commitment to a religious community is two-fold: commitment to the goals of the community (usually ideological goals such as living the Gospel in the "spirit of the founder") and commitment to the specific means of living these goals as defined by the organization of the community (e.g., manner of living together, specific rules regarding dress and behavior). The respondents were given two opportunities on the questionnaire to indicate the object or goal of their com-mitment. One question asked: "Which factor listed below woukl you say most clearly differentiates religious life from other forms of Christian living?" Eight alternatives were given, with space to provide others. Table 4 shows the response to this question and indicates that the model response is "community living" which coukl be classified as the organizational aspect of the two-fold goal. "Service to others" could also be classified as [urthering the con-crete organizational goals and non-ideological in charac-ter. Five of the other responses--"celibacy," "visible sign," TABLE 4 Factors Differentiating Religious Life frotn Other Forms of Christian Living 4- 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 Community living Intensity of Christian living Celibacy Visible sign; public witness Emphasis on prayer and spiritual life Service to others The three vows No distinguishing feature Other Invalid Total No. of Sisters % of Sisters ~8% 12 12 11 75 29 10 10 95 3 3l2 4 51 3 6 76 100 "prayer, . Christian living," and "tile three vows"--are more ideological in emphasis and removed from the prac-tical, organizational aspect of the goal. If the responses are classified in terms of organizational or ideological e~nphasis, thirty-two sisters (43 per cent) indicated commitment to an organizational goal, while thirty-seven sisters (48 per cent) indicated commitment to ideological goals. This difference is too small to make a statement about the goal of the commitment of the re-spondents. The other qnestion which provided data concerning the goal of co~nmitment was: "What do you see as the most important factor keeping yon in relig!ous life today?" Six alternatives were given for this question with space provided to write in others. Table 5 gives the re-sponse to this question. If the responses are considered as emphasizing either the organizational or ideological as-pect of the goal, it is clear that the majority of respond-ents view the ideological goal as more important than the organizational one in keeping them in the religious com-lnunity. Forty-three (57 per cent) of the responses indicated that the force keeping the sister in religious life is the sense of commitment to a value or an ideal: "It's the right thing for me to do"; "The love of Christ"; "To prove this life has meaning." Twenty-one responses (27 per cent) indicated that tile "holding force" or goal of commitment is identified with the organization: "Faith and hope in our congregation"; "To serve others better." From the response to these two questions, it can be concluded that young sisters view the goal of commit-ment as equally ideological and organizational when they are asked to identify it in an objective type of qnestion. When the qnestion is asked in a more personally oriented manner (e.g., "What are you committed to that keeps you in religious life?"), more sisters identify the goal in ideo-logical terms than in organizational terms. With empha- TABLE 5 Factors Keeping Sisters in Religious Life Today Factor No. of Sisters % of Sisters It's the right thing for me to do The love of Christ To serve others better Faith and hope in our congregation To prove this life has meaning I don't know Other Invalid Total 19 19 14 7 57 41 76 ~5% 25 18 97 9 61 100 ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 27 sis on personal decision-making and collegiality the or-ganizational aspects of the religious community are viewed as less important. Length of Commitment Formerly, commitment to a religious community was viewed as a permarient one, preceded by several years of temporary commitment. Changes in secular society have made permanency and stability almost non-existent, and changes in the Chnrch and in religious communities have reflected this trend. If the commitment of religious per-sons was to unchanging, spiritual values, the factors mili-tating against permanent commitment would not influ-ence religious commitment. However, it has been shown that the object of commitment is twofold: ideological and organizational. Ak the defects of an imperfect, changing, and nnpredictable organization loom large, a sister soon realizes tbat to be committed to the ideological goals of tbe commnnity, she may not need to be permanently committed to its organization. Many temporary organiza-tional and public service alternatives such as Peace Corps are available (Murphy, 1967: 1083). The young sister respondents were asked abont their initial ideas of the stability of commitment to religious life. The qnestion was stated in this way: "Think back to the (lay you came to religious life. Which of the three statements listed below would you say best describes your feelings at that time?" The alternatives ranged from "giv-ing it a try" to "very sure that I'd stay forever." The response to each alternative is given in Table 6. It is evident from these data that 20 per cent of the young sisters viewed commitment to religious life as per-manent tbe (lay they joined the community. However, most of the respondents (80 per cent) indicated that at the time they joined the community there was hesitancy regarding the permanency of their commitment to the group they were joining. + + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 28 TABLE 6 Attitude Toward Permanency of Commitment of Young Sisters before Joining the Religious Community Attitude I was going to give it a try and see if it worked I was quite sure--not positive though-- that I'd stay I was very sure that I'd stay forever Total Sisters ~7 33 16 76 % of Sisters 36% 44 20 100 The final question was an open-ended one which al-lowed the respondents to express their views on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment to the reli-gious community. The qnestion was stated: "Some people have suggested that because of all the rapid social change occurring today that commitment to religious life should be a temporary one. How do you feel about this?" The respondents were given ample room to reply, and their opinions ranged in length from one sentence to several paragraphs. The responses to this questi6n were ranked according to agreement with permanent commitment, with four cat-egories resulting: (1) strong agreement with permanent commitment, (2) moderate agreement with permanent commitment, (3) moderate agreement with temporary commitment, and (4) strong agreement with temporary commitment. Thirty-nine of the respondents (51 per cent) strongly agreed that commitment to religious life should be per-manent. Their agreement was categorized as strong be-cause they felt that not only their own commitment, but all commitment to religious life should be permanent. These responses emphasized the necessity of permanency in order to bring security and stability to the individual and to "give witness" to the value of permanency in a world characterized by much impermanency. Typical of these responses are the following: . the rapid social change and the fact that there is so much "un-permanence" in the world today makes a permanent com-mitment all the more meaningful . It seems as though in many instances in life faithfulness is becoming less important and maybe even harder to practice. I think one of the things we religious should show others is fi-delity, keeping one's word with the Lord, as he has done for US . ¯. I feel it should be a life-long commitment. I think there's time for growth in this life that many are not allowing for in the temporary living. Especially today it takes more time to get rooted in a way of life and become persistent in our con-viction and values in that way of life . To really live religious life I think we must have a perma-nent commitment. I think it is only after we have lived a life as deeply as we can and for a length of time that we will blos-som as really selfless people (if we have taken the opportunities all around us to do this). Even though the world is rapidly changing, I think we need to show people it is possible to stick to a life decision . . I feel it is also necessary for one to make a decision and live by it. Those in other walks of life must do it. I think it makes one work harder for the final goal and makes one face up to her real purpose in this vocation . Sixteen of the respondents' opinions (20 per cent) were categorized as "moderate agreement with permanent com-mitment" since they indicate that, while the sister pre- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 29 + ÷ ÷ Si~ter $udith Ann REVIEW FOR R£LIGIOUS 30 {erred a permanent commitment for herself, she agreed that others in the religious community could make a temporary commitment. However, allowing this tempo-rary commitment was viewed as an exceptional measure, outside of the regular structure of the community, but somehow arranged so that those who made this type of commitment would be affiliated with the community. The argutnents in favor of permanent commitment are similar to those given by the respondents who strongly agreed with permanent commitment, as the examples below indicate: I think that for some people a temporary commitment is the best way for them to serve, and opportunity for this should be provided, rather than lose their valuable potential. For myself, a permanent commitment has more value. I want to give myself to something--someone--completely. A temporary commitment would just be putting off this giving of myself. I also think it is psychologically reassuring tbat a decision has been made, and now my whole effort can be put into living out that decision. I also think that people today need and want to see that Christ is important enough that someone will give his or her life to him.This is where a community of permanently com-mitted people has valne. I've thought of a temporary commitment many times. I can see some set-up like the Mormons have--giving two years of service to the church. But I can see that something more perma-nent and stable is needed. I think we have to think of more than ourselves . I think if young people want to serve the church temporarily, there are many other organizations for them. We need something more permanent and definite in this world and I think it should be religious life. I feel that if a person is truly committed to the religious life, her commitment will be a permanent one. However, because of contemporary insecurity and confusion, perhaps persons should be allowed to commit themselves for limited periods of time. I view this as a short-term measure. I feel this option should be given to some people. At the same time, I feel that for those who are able to make a perma-nent commitment this should be allowed because this is very much needed in today's society, too, as people need to witness a sign of permanency someplace. I think there is room for such a thing as a temporary com-mitment to a kind of religious living in our present, changing society. However, I do not think the place for such a commit-ment is within religious communities such as ours. It seems to me that religious life as we know it and are connnitted to is of its essence a lifetime proposition . I woukl favor the idea of something like a "sister-community" for those who wish temporary commitment, and we wonld work closely with and possibly live with these people. Eleven o¢ the sister-respondents (15 per cent) indicatetl "moderate agreement with temporary commitment." That is, while their response indicated agreement with temporary commitment, they indicated that those who desired permanent commitment ghonld be able to live in this way. This category was distinguished from the pre-vious one by its more positive view of temporary commit-ment. These respondents indicated that it should not be consklered exceptional and saw a place for it within the regular structure of the community. A strong emphasis on the individual's freedom to decide on the type of commitment was evident in these responses. In contrast to the other two categories of responses, arguments in favor of permanent commitment were not evident in this category. Typical of the responses are those listed below: I would tend to agree in part to the above statement. ! think a person can or could be committed to religious life for a number of years and then discover it wasn't for them. I also feel that there are people, many of them, who probably could and would be able to commit themselves to religious life for-ever. What I would like to see set up would be a plan whereby a person could dedicate a numher of years to the service of the church in religious life. I believe in a temporary calling or commitment to this life style--not that everyone should enter it on a temporary basis --but the option should be possible. Those that want the sta-bility of life commitment should have it; those that want this life-style for a temporary time of giving, living, growing, searching--it should be so. My first reaction to this idea was negative because it con-tradicted all that I was taught about vocation, but now I think it is a good idea. Mainly because I think this way of life gives each person who is in the least way sincere a very close and special relationship with God the Father. The op-portunities to know and to live God are very uniqne and centered. I just don't think that we can deny this relationship to anyone who desires it. Many times I think this is the reason a person enters religious life, and then maybe later they see that this type of life-style is not for them for various reasons. I believe that people should have the option of a temporary commitment. For some, this may better suit their character and personality, or their goals in life. It allows for changing in-terpretations of values. People enter religious life for different reasons, and for some, their understanding and purpose in re-ligious life might be served by a temporary commitment to it. Ten of the sisters (14 per cent) responded to the ques-tion with strong agreement toward temporary commit-merit. Like the responses in the previous category, these emphasized individual freedom of decision. In addition, they gave positive argmnents for temporary commitment. The tone of these argnments was that commitment to a changing institution cannot be permanent. This is ex-pressed clearly in the examples given below: It is most difficult for one to commit oneself to a certain institution with a permanent commitment to live out the 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 31 4. + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life in a particular way through this institution. Most people today find themselves changing jobs as they themselves change, due to the needs around them, through conditions or events and people they have interacted with . I feel that the commitment to religious life will always be a permanent one as God speaks to the individual, but the commitment to the institution through which the individual witnesses should be a temporary one. I'm beginning to think this is a good idea. I don't think people can take the intense living that community demands for a whole lifetime. Plus today society almost demands people move about and take on new ways of serving and giving. One single endeavor no longer seems adequate. There is a great instability about living which makes any permanent commit-ment an impossible demand. Yes, I think it shonld be temporary because the way religious life is changing now you might not be able to live happily and peacefully in the new conditions. Also, in living out one's commitment in religious life, a person may come to realize that she can commit herself in a fuller way in some other walk of life. I agree with the above statement. I too feel that because of the ever-changing demands and opportunities afforded by so-ciety that one should be flexible enough to r.espond to them as one sees fit which may not necessarily he within the establish-ment or structure of .religious life. I think that commitment to Christ as manifested in a really Christian way of living is the most important factor in one's dedication. The particular life style in which this is manifested may or may not be considered essential by the sister. I think that, in one sense, a real Christian has to "hang loose" with regard to any established institutions of the world. The Christian lives in the midst of many institutions, but must re-member, as Christ did, that institutions arc made for man, not man for institutions. Then the important thing is that a person make every effort to understand reality and develop a deep, honest 3ire attitude. From here on out, the formed Christian's inspiration and intuition is more important than membership in institutions. If this means there should be no permanent commitment to religious life, then there should be none. In snmmary, these responses to the qnestion concerning the permanency of commitment indicate that young sis-ters are evenly divided on the question, with 51 per cent favoring permanent commitment for all, and 48 per cent not favoring this position, although their disagreement with it is in varying degrees. Argnments in favor of per-manent commitment point out the "witness value" of permanency in a world characterized by impermanency, indicating emphasis on the ideological aspect of the two-fold goal of a religious community. Arguments support-ing temporary commitment emphasize the organizational aspect of the goal by stressing the difficulty of permanent commitment to an organization. These same argnments TABLE 7 Lambda Values of Predictor Variables Variable Value of Lambda Attitude of sister before she joined religious commu- .19 nity toward permanency of commitment Type of work Factor keeping sister in religious community Number of years in religious community Factor differentiating religious life from other forms of Christian living Factor leading to present understanding of religious life Factor influencing decision to join the religious com-munity Time when decision to join was made Size of town in which working Size of home town Age of sister ,16 .15 .14 .12 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 indicate the desirability of maintaining religiotts belie[s otttside of an organizational situation. Predictor Variables of Attitude toward Commitment. In order to investigate the possibility of predicting atti-tude toward commitment from other variables, further ;malysis was done using the responses to the open-ended qnestion regarding perm~ment or temporary commitment as the dependent variable. These responses were dichot-omized (those favoring permanent commitment for all members and those not favoring permanent commitment for all), and contingency tables were constructed using tbe data from eleven of the questions,s On the basis of these tables, the lambda statistic (X) was c;tlculated. Lambda is designed to estimate the percent-age of reduction of error gained by predicting the de-pendent v;triable from knowledge of the independent var-iable. Table 7 lists tbe content of tbe eleven qttestions used as independent v;triables and the corresponding val-ues of lambda. From these statistics it is evident that none of the varia-bles included in the questionnaire nsed for this study could be considered strong predictor variables. The strongest variable--the attitude of ;t sister before she joined the religious cuommunity toward the permanency of her commitment--reduces the error of prediction by a The question concerning the sister's decision to join the religious community: "When would you say you first started thinking about entering religious life?" was inchtdcd in the questionnaire only to clarify the question which followed it concerning the time when the actual decision to join was made, and was not intended for analysis. ÷ ÷ + Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 33 only 19 per cent. In other words, knowledge of a sister's attitude on this topic wonld reduce the "chance" of erro-neously designating her as agreeing or disagreeing with permanent commitment for all members of the commu-nity. Without knowledge of this independent variable, a 51 per cent chance exists of correctly identifying a sister as agreeing with permanent commitment. With knowl-edge of this independent variable, the chance of correct identification increases to 70 per cent. Similar interpreta-tion holds for the other values of lambda, all of which, however, are smaller. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34 Conclusion From the data gathered in this study, the following conchlsions can be drawn: (1) role models are influential in this group of young sisters; (2) more young sisters view the goal of commitment to the religious commnnity in ideological rather than organizational terms; (3) opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versns tempo-rary commitment; and (4) none of the variables tested are outstanding in their predictive vahle regarding attitude toward commitment. While these findings do not appear to snpport tbe observations regarding cbange in secular society, the Chnrch, ~md religious commnnities, they nev-ertheless provide some basic information useful for fi~r-ther stndy in this area. For example, if none of the varia-bles tested here discriminate in regard to the attitude toward commitment, what variable is a discriminating one? Apparently neither demographic variables--size of a sister's home town, size of town in which a sister is work-ing, her age, or her type of work--nor variables concern-ing a sister's views of religious life and the factors in-fluencing these views can be considered meaningful predictor variables. Even role models, considered as fac-tors influential in the sister's present understanding of re-ligious life, and a sister's goal of commitment (ideological or organizational) do not discriminate in regard to perma-nent or temporary commitment. An area not investigated in this stndy was the family background of the sister, and previous work by Keniston (1960) indicates that certain factors in this area might provide discriminating varia-bles. REFERENCES Abrahamson, E., et al. 1958 "Social Power and Commitment: A Theoretical Statement." American Sociological Review 23 (February): 15-22. Becker, Howard S. 1960 "Notes on the Concept of Commitment." American Journal of Sociology 66 (July): 32-40. Becker, Howard and Carper, James. 1956 "The Elements of Identification with an Occupation." American Sociological Review 21 (June): 341-48. DeMilan, Sister Jean. 1965 "The Insecure Junior Sister." R~.zvIEw fOR RrZLICIOUS 24 (March): 208-220. Dignan, Sister M. Howard. 1966 "Identity and Change in Religious Life." REvi~w fOR R~LIC~OUS 23 (July): 669-77. Emery, Andree. 1969 "Experiment in Counseling Religious." REvizw vo~ RELIGIOUS 28 (January): 35-47. Erikson, Erik H. 1963 Youth: Challenge and Change. New York: Basic Books, Inc. Keniston, Kenneth. 1960 The Uncommitted: Alienated Youth in American So-ciety. New York: Dell Publishing Co. Murphy, Sister M. Cordula. 1967 "Religious Vocation: A Decision." RrwEw voa Rz- ~Ic~ous 26 (November): 1081-89. Orsy, Ladislas. 1969 "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today 40 (February): 347-49. Schleck, Charles A. 1968 "Departures from Religion." R~vi~w ro~ R~o~s 27 (July): 682-715. Smith, Herbert F. 1964 "Temporary Religious Vocation." Rrvlrw voa Rr:- ~o~oos 23 (July): 433-54. ÷ ÷ ÷ ldentity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 WILLIAM RIBANDO, C.S.C. The Religious Community at the Catholic College William Ri-bando, C.S.C., is a faculty member of King's College; Wilkes-Barre, Penn-sylvania 18702. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 36 Like his brothers and sisters engaged in other aposto-lates, the religious who is employed in higher education in colleges or universities originally founded by members of his order faces serious problems. Drastic changes have occurred since that (lay in the distant past when fathers, sisters, or brothers were sent from the motherhouse to fonnd a Catholic college for the benefit of young men or women who would otherwise not enjoy the benefits bf a Catholic college education. Since then, many such col-leges bave experienced periods of growth which have in most cases led to a notable educational maturity as well as to certain repercussions for the religious and his com-munity. Both in fact and in law many Catholic colleges bave become alienated from the religious communities which originally founded them. This process of alienation of the religious community from the college or university has in many cases come about at the direct volition of the community which planned and implemented the legal and administrative processes necessary. In other cases an alienation in law aml in fact has come about by force of a variety of complex circumstances not necessarily under the control or to the liking of the religious community. Whatever the instigating causes, this process of alienation has brought with it many repercussions in the lives of the individual religious involved in such circumstances. This, taken with the increasing secularization in almost all areas of the life of the Catholic college, has left the reli-gious in a situation which is drastically different from that first experienced by the founders of his college. In the light of the present crisis of the Church and of the concurrent scarcity of religious vocations, it is impera- tive that religious as individuals and as communities rec-ognize the peculiar problems posed by the apostolate of religious in colleges which are in fact no longer run by their communities. This article will attempt to highlight some of these problems as they have become apparent in recent years. Viable solutions to these problems (if there be such) will come only as the result of much community soul searching and frank discussion. Recent conflicts and confrontations on the nations' campuses point to an area of possible conflict between the college or university as institution and the religious com-munity. Younger religious and priests imbued with the Vatican Council's concept of a prophetic Church are anx-ious to speak out on what they consider the grave evils affecting today's society. To remain silent in the [ace of apparent insensitivity towards the evils of war, racism, and poverty would seem an inexcusable betrayal of one's Christian conscience. For a Catholiccollege to acquiesce by its silence to these or other: "crimes against humanity" would seem in the eyes of many religious to be the height of hypocrisy. Yet often college administrators, lay or religious, find themselves by instinct or force of circumstance on the side of the "law and orddr" forces represented by the alumni or local community. The sign-carrying sister or bearded priest picketing the dean's office stands as a threat to the Catholic education past and future which the more conservative laymen or religious has known. One can easily im.agine the tensions created in a reli-gious community where both such concepts of the role of the religious are incarnated in various members. Because they operate from different concepts of what the Church is and does, the two types of religious find it difficult, if not impossible, to accept even the basic honesty and sin-cerity of the other. The religious community must play an important me-diating role in such situations or see itself split into schis-matic factions each claiming to be the one true realiza-tion of what the religions life should be. Open dialogue beginning in the religious community and branching out to all areas and aspects of the campus could go far toward fostering the creative peace necessary in a Christian col-lege community. The bells of the college chapel once loudly proclaimed to the religious that the will of God meant hastening toward the chapel for the morning or evening "exer-cises." Now the religious on campus often wishes that the will of God were spelled out for him in so clear and unambiguous a manner. Although he still has a superior, the religious finds that person or his office no longer playing the role they once did in his life. On most cam- + + ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS puses the offices of president and religious superior have been divided and given to two different persons. The religious, may well find himself consulting his reli-gious superior only on matters which are somewhat pe-ripheral to his professional life. With this fact comes the realization that most of what one is doing is not being done in direct obedience to the religious superior. No vow of obedience has been made to follow the directives of the college president, the (lean or department chair-man, the registrar or the business manager, all of whom may be laymen. Can the will of God be found in the xeroxed memos of all such campus heroes? One hesitates to answer too quickly lest officialdom's latest pronounce-ment be considered binding de fide definita. Yet if the religious is sincerely trying to find the will of God in the demands of his everyday life, he cannot too easily dismiss the directives of such persons as irrelevant to the fulfill-ment of his religious vocation. Here too the members of the religious community have something valuable to contribute to each other. A process of joint discernment and dialogue among people with like goals and aspirations can do much toward discover-ing the will of God in complex and confusing circum-stances. For example, a community discussion may enable a religious to decide whether a particular moderatorship or activity which he has been requested to take charge of will be belpfnl or detrimental to the fulfillment of his overall vocation as a Christian scholar and teacher. Too often in the past when almost every aspect of one's life was under the direct control of the president-snpe-riot, one was made to feel obliged to accept almost any assignment offered lest he be found lacking in the virtue of obedience. An institution which can now insist on the highest professional standards for all its professors and administrators, can no longer expect religious to fill in all the gaps in extracurricular activities at the expense of their own academic and professional development. Many times the religious on the contemporary campus may think of his classmates in various far off missions and wonder who is more the missionary. Altlaougb living con-ditions are no doubt better this side of the. Atlantic or Pacific, the distinction between working with "pagan" and "christian" peoples often seems quite blurred. A highly secularistic and often very hedonistic culture has had its effect on college youth to the point that one can no longer presnppose the real nnderstanding or accept-ance of traditional Christian teachings especially in the areas of personal religious observances, doctrinal beliefs, and sexual condnct. The religious who has done "dorm duty" can be hard put to discern how his students are in any way different in their mores from their counterparts on secular campuses. The creeping suspicion may nag him that he is indeed in a nonchristian missionary terri-tory minus the lions and tigers but replete with other formidable threats to life and sanity. The reactions to such a discovery can be manifold. The individual religiqus or the community as a whole can rend their garments, cry "blasphemy," and withdraw to the cloister emerging only for minimal skirmishes at class time and at graduation. This is roughly comparable to the foreign missionary who waits for the natives to come to the compound. Other religious may elect to recognize the missionary aspect of contemporary college work even if this means a good deal of pre-evangelization of the most basic type. This for many religious will entail considerable readjust- ~nent of methods in educational and pastoral approaches. Obviously no easy solution will be found to a situation so different from that prevailing even ten years ago. Yet the religious commnnity which refuses to examine itself, its methods, and its attitudes toward a changing campus scene would seem to rule itself into irrelevancy. Here too, open and frank dialogue between various segments of the religious community and between the religious commu-nity and students and lay faculty would seem an important means toward establishing the identity and role of the religious community in a campus community grown much larger than the founding congregation or order. One of the more striking differences between the Cath-olic college old and new is symbolized by the contract for religious as well as for laymen. Said document or the lack thereof serves notice to the religious that he is no longer working for the family store but rather for the large chain market which employs him simply on the basis of the contributions he can render to a particular aspect of the institution. The judgment is made on coldly objec-tive evidence with the emphasis on professional qualifica-tions. What degrees has he earned? How many articles and books has he written and how did he fare in the recent teacher evaluations? Is he accepted by his peer group of professors or administrators? This increased stress on professional standards in the Catholic college or university is no doubt yielding a nota-ble development in academic standards at the institutions involved. However, in many cases it also brings with it some less desirable effects. If a contract is to be denied, such an action may have serious repercussions on the community involved. If the administrators involved are religious, they may be accused of allowing a cold-hearted professionalism to supersede the charity owed one's fel-÷ ÷ ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 39 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 low religious. Rightly or wrongly, suspicions may arise that old grievances are being revenged via a politely pol-ished letter from the front office. Needless to say, such a situation can have enormous effects on the life, spii'itual and otherwise, of any reli-gious community. Factions can quickly form within the community depending on how individuals evaluate the evidence and the persons involved. ShOck at news of a dismissal can lead to a bitterness which may mar the effect of the community long after the departure of the religious involved. Superior and community wonder what their duty toward such a religious might be while the powers of the "institution" move on to the search [or a replacement more in line with the current needs of the college or university. Sholdd a religious community act as mediator or advo-cate for a religious who is being dismissed for whatever reasons? In some cases, the dismissal may indeed be well merited. In other cases, the very fact that a person is a religious may be used to perpetrate a great injustice. A quiet call to a provincial may result in the eviction of a religious who has served an institution well for many years. Under the guise of "obedience" a person m.ay be forced to take up a new occupation [or which he is both unprepared and uninterested. Certainly the least a community owes its members in such a situation is frank and open discussion and investi-gation of the factors involved. If an injustice has been done the collective voice of the community should be heard in the proper places; and, if need be, the contribu-tions and merits of the religious involved should be stressed to the interested administrators. If the dismissal is justified, the community's collective concern might well be demonstrated in assisting the person in finding a suita-ble position either within the same institution or else-where. In any case, a passive noninvolvement of the com-munity in the case of a religious facing such a situation could well lead to grave problems both within and out-side the religious community. These are but a few of the difficulties faced by the religious engaged in the apostolate of higher education. While they probably pale in comparison to the obstacles faced by the founders of most Catholic colleges, they are nonetheless not insignificant because they deeply effect the lives of the religious involved. Only by raising and discussing questions such as those presented can religious communities hope to preserve the unity of life and sense of Christian mission necessary to make a valuable contri-bution to the colleges and universities which they and their predecessors sacrificed so much to establish. THEODORE VITALI, C.P. A Qyestion of Life or Death: Is "Temporary Vocation" a Valid Concept? Among the many questions being discussed today among religious is the question of perseverance. Put in other words, is there such a thing as a temporary voca-tion? This paper is directed to the problem of perseverance in religious life. It is a theological investigation and thus is concerned formally with the theological validity of the concept "temporary" as modifying "vocation." By voca-tion is meant here a life consecrated to God by vows within the visible Church. This paper is not concerned with the problems encoun-tered in religious life, nor with the reasons given by peo-ple leaving religious life. There is a wealth of written material on this subject. The paper is concerned solely with the theological validity of the concept "temporary vocation." Thus there is no moral judgment intended on persons leaving. Christianity is the Paschal mystery of Christ. In Christ's death, humanity was handed over to the Father in perfect worship and fidelity. Through tlie absoluteness of His death, Christ offered the Father perfect worship. St. Paul in the Letter to the Pbilippians spoke of it in terms of obediential self-surrender. Flesh, the antithesis of spirit in the Pauline sense, is rendered spiritual by obediential self-sacrifice. The Father thus raised the Son, because the Son was obedient unto death. In His human-ity, Christ proclaimed through death that His father was worthy of total obedience, worship, and praise. ÷ Theodore Vitali is a retreat master at St. Joseph Spirit-ual Center; 3800 Frederick Avenue; Baltimore, Mary-land 21229. VOLUME 30, 1971 41 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Baptism is the sacramental means by which men enter into this worshipful act of Christ. Through it, the bap-tized descends with Christ sacramentally into sacrificial death and rises with Him through the possession of the Spirit. The Christian life consists in living out this exo-dus, sacrificial self-surrender, (lying to oneself, and living for God. ~a the history of Christianity, many expressions of this baptismal consecration have occurred. In the early years of the Chnrch two modes appear: martyrdom and a life consecrated to the living ont of the evangelical counsels. The fathers of the Chnrch point out throughout their writings the importance and significance of martyrdom. To be martyred was the greatest act a Christian could perform. It was to enter into the baptismal mystery to its most profound depths. With Christ, the martyr obedien-tially handed his life over to the Father in praise and worship. By it, he symbolized and witnessed to the world that God is the supreme value of all human existence, to be worshiped and served. He points out equally well that all finite reality is of value only in relationship to the absolnte valne, God Himself. He points out finally that in death with Christ, one receives life transcending all human aspirations. St. Panl expresses this quite clearly in Philippians 3:8-11. Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him. that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in death, that if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. In a word, by his death, the martyr points out to the world that God is the sole absolute in life, the sole and absolute good, infinitely transcending all finite good, even hnman life itself. Martyrdom is the Christian's es-chatological witness to the infinite worth of possessing God in Christ. There are indications in the Scriptures, too, of a way of life, not of martyrdom, bnt containing its essential char-acteristics. We read of widows following the Lord, of the eschatological dimension of virginity in Panl, of single-mindedness in following Christ. While no one would say this is religious life as we know it today, nevertheless there is present, at least inchoately, the basis from which religions life would emerge. Religions life as we know it becomes apparent during the 4th Century. After 313 martyrdom became less likely for the Christian. It was at this time that men went out into the desert. That same mystiqne which drove men to martyrdom now drove them into the desert. Origen spoke of "martyrdom of the spirit." Some spoke of "dry or bloodless martyrdom.'" There existed the strong desire, charism, to live out to the fullest the baptismal consecra-tion. They wished to die with Christ and live for God, but to do it in snch wise as to witness to the world the absoh=teness of God over man and the world. The vows became the means by which this was accomplished. By them, one handed himself over to God irrevocably, re-nouncing the world for the sake of God Himself. At first, this might see~ like the old fashioned notion that the world is bad and must be fled from. It cannot be denied that this element might have been present and might in fact still be present in the thoughts of those who enter this way of life. However, this is not the significant element in rennnciation; in fact, it is antithetical to it. Karl Rahner, S.J. in his essay "Toward a Theology of Renunciation," appearing in the Sister's Formation Bul-letin, Winter 1966, establishes the natnre of this renun-ciation. The rennnciation is eschatological. Rahner looks to the specific nature of the evangelical connsels as the soul of religions life: Renunciation is constituted by the Evangelical Counsels as a continuing way of life . The theology of renunciation be-longs within the framework of a theology of the Evangelical Counsels, inasmuch as we wish to see renunciation as their com-mon element (p. 1). The religious shows the world the possibility of holi-ness. This holiness is union with Christ, now through the theological virtues, and in eternity through beatific vi-sion: Christian perfection consists solely and exclusively in the per-fection of love, given in Christ .Jesus through the Spirit of God, affecting our justification and sanctification. This love encom-passes God and His spiritual creatures in the unity of His King-dora. Hence it is theological and because of its source, Christ in the Church, and its goal, the union of the redeemed in God, is ecclesial as well. Since it is supernatural, this love severs the human being from the world and his imprisonment in self, and draws him up into the already present but still buried-in-faith life of God Himself (p. 1). It is in these two notions that we have the basis of our theology of religious life and the answer to the questiou of "temporary vocations." Through the evangelical counsels the religious bears witness to the eschatological Christ, the eschatological nature of the Church. This is the important difference between religious life and other forms of Christian life: eschatological witness. This witness consists in the rennnciation of the world as good, not as evil, pointing out the absolnteness and ÷ ÷ + l", "T oecnaat~oo~na~ ry VOLUME 30, 1971 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS infinitely transcendent value of the love of God above all earthly, finite values. The monk in the desert as well as the religious today witness by their lives the "surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus." The martyr did the same by dying for Christ. They performed an absolute, irrevo-cable act of worship, handing themselves, over to the Father. By his vows the religious does the same. He re-nounced all finite values, precisely as good and valuable, because of and precisely for the infinite value of God. Contrasting the form of witness of the non-religious with the religious, Rahner states: The love of Christ, terrestrially orientated, that is, a love which focuses itself upon terrestrial values and acts out of a moti-vation of supernaturalized terrestrial wdues, precisely as it is earthly, has no clear function of showing forth or witnessing to this world the reality of eschatological love . It conceals rather than reveals that character (p. 2). Such life styles point as well to terrestrial values as motiwttions for activity as well as to supernatural wtlues. In fact, as a sign, it reflects primarily the visible terrestrial value not the eschatological. If we are to ask how this eschatological dimension is to be witnessed to, the answer can only be by the renunciation of the earthly values. It is either meaningless or it is the expression and realiza-tion of faith, hope, and charity reaching toward God, God who in Himself without reference to the world, is the goal of human beings in the supernatural order (p. 2). This, then, is the essential difference. For the non-reli-gious, their lives witness primarily the sanctification of the terrestrial order. By that very fact, they point to the goodness of finite reality, created and redeemed by God. Religious, on the other hand, by renotmcing the finite goods of this world, point to the infinite value of God. They remind the world that God is the absolnte wdue, giving meaning to all finite reality. Only God is the abso-lute motive for existence. Given the premises: (1) the Paschal mystery is the cen-tral mystery of Christianity, (2) martyrdom is the fullest expression of the baptismal consecration into that Pas-chal mystery, (3) religious life is a continuation of the charism of martyrdom, and (4) religious life hits as its essential characteristic the eschatological witness to the infinite wdue of God and the supernatural love of God, then it follows that lifetime perseverance is essential to that witness and is essential therefore to the concept of "vocation" as predicated of religious life. Because the witness is to the absolute goodness of God, apart from the world, an act or life consecrated as such, must of itself be absolute. As with the martyr, the values of the life or act lie in the irrevocableness of the act. There is no halfway measure to death; either one dies or he does not. If the martyr backs down at the last moment, there is no escbatological witness. In fact, the finite is witnessed to instead of the infinite in that it was chosen in preference to the infinite. From tiffs it can be concluded that there cannot be a valid theological reality called temporary religious voca-tion. For a valid witness there must be the irrevocability of the act or life. So long as one can validly opt for the finite within the religious life vocation, the religious life as snch bears no eschatological witness. It contains that terrestrial element which nullifies the premise, namely, that God is of infinite value and meaning apart from the world. To witness the infinite, the finite must be irrevoca-bly renounced. It takes an absolute act to sign an abso-lute reality. By its very name, temporary, the concept of "temporary religious vocation" is invalid. Temporary of its very natnre signifies relativity. Relativity and tempo-rary are opposite to absolute and eternal. It may be objected that this is totally a priori and unsympathetic to present problems in religious life. To say it is a priori is not to judge it false. The position is deduced, but from premises established from revelation, tradition, and history. The theologian has the right to make sncb deductions. To say that it is unsympathetic is to render it an inius-rice. The question set before us was concerned with "tem-porary vocation" theologically viewed. The dynamics of religious life and the problems encountered by members of a given community are integral to the question in general, but are not essential to tiffs question taken spe-cifically. In the early Church many people found martyrdom too difficuh to take. This is understandable. Martyrdom is a great grace, perhaps the greatest. Religious life as the continuance of the spirit of martyrdom in the worhl is also a great grace, perhaps the greatest today. As with the martyr, so perhaps with the religious, the martyrdom is complete only with the irrevocability of death. The vows are sealed nltimately with the death in faith of the reli-gious. Perhaps it can be said that religious life is actually constituted for the individual only at the moment of death when the exodus is complete. Only then is the renunciation complete. Only then is the eschatological witness of one's life trnly established. Anything shy of this final and absolute renunciation may be termed Christian, purposeful, necessary perhaps for the individual, and so forth, but it is not a "religious vocation" as sncb. The only person capable of claiming ÷ ÷ ÷ "Temporary Vocation" VOLUME 30, 1971 45 to be a religious is one who accepts the grace of persever-ance to the end, that is, those who die in their vows. Thus, the constitution of the vocation, religious life, is an ongoing process, constantly affirming itself, but never confirmed until death hassealed it. It seems to me, then, that religious life is a question of life or death. ÷ ÷ ÷ Theodore Vitall REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 SISTER MARY GARASCIA, C.PP.S. Second Thoughts on Pluralism and Religious Life "New breed" anti "old breed" may have been first but othet;s tried harder; and those early, simple labels were quickly upstaged by their more sophisticgted cous-ins in the name game. Transcendentalists and incarna-tionalists, moderates, traditionalists, liberals, radicals, secularists (with sub-species pluralists and urbanists, per-sore/ lists, authoritarians and their opposing numbers)-- all crowtled into the limelight.1 But while the labels may be disputed and ridiculed or accepted and praised, virtn-ally no one dispntes the nnderlying reality: Polarities exist in many religious communities today. Before discussing the main subject of this essay, plu-ralism as a sohttion to polarity, some further description of the problem is necessary. It seems that the tension of polarization is not felt during the first phase of renewal when attention is ab-sorbed by the enthnsiastic and optimistic shedding of restrictions and group practices. With the passage of time and the deepening of the qommunity's dialog with itself, however, a mood of pessimism and tension follows the discovery that changes which were supposed to bring great and true spiritual unity have resulted in many other things indeed: "Many members of Religious Orders who managed to live with each otlter successfully under a rnle and a tradition now seem to find this same bar- * For some of the more recent discussions of groups in religious life today, see the following series of articles: George B. Murray, "The Secular Religious," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 1047--55; Andrew J. Weigert, "A Sociological Perspective on the Secular Religious," REWEW rO~ REL~eIOUS, V. 27 (1968), pp. 871-9; and Placide Gaboury, "The Secular Religious and Pluralism," RE-viEw vo~ R~L~C.~OUS, v. 28 (1969), pp. 604-15. 4- Sister Mary Ga-rascia teaches at San Luis Rey Acad-emy; 4070 Mission Avenue; San Luis Rey, California 92068. VOLUME 30, 1971 47 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 mony impossible on the basis solely of 'love' or 'com-munity.' "'-' As symbolic actions, objects, or idea-con-structs which formerly signified the community's unity become instead points of divergence, and as self-ap-pointed analysts proliferate, confusion and disappoint-ment and fear lead. to the alienation, in greater or less degree, of many members.:~ The phenomenon of anomy (confusion leading to alienation) in religious life has not been adequately studied, but Lachner, drawing upon the work of so-ciologists Durkheim and Merton, gives four effects of anomy on a group: innovation: new means are sought for achieving old goals with the hope that the means can unite where goals fail; ritualism: secure holding on "to patterns of means with little thought about achieving goals; dropping out: this can be done literally or by being uninvolved, indifferent, or unaware; rebellion: active rejection of old goals and means and an attempt to replace them with new ones.4 It should be easy to observe all these behaviors in religious community life today. In recent months the thesis that "honest pluralism must be introduced into the religious life for this time of transition" ~ has been heard with favor by many re-ligious. Is pluralism a legitimate solntion to the polari-zation and anomy described above? Or is the appeal of pluralism actually another effect of anomy by which the commtmity attempts to restore peace through some kind of compromise or coexistence? Religious women who are already prone to sloganism and oversimplifica-tion need to be doubly cautious in this time of insecurity of any euphorions solution to their problems. Pluralism is a complex reality; but it is by no means a new word, coming as it does from the well-established field of ec~menical stt~dies. An tmderstanding of pluralism as it exists "in its native environment" may lead to a more critical application of that concept to religions life. Pluralism: Its Meaning In German, pluralismus (pluralism) has a pejorative meaning; it is an ism and as such it is absolute so that w/file it glorifies multiplicity and diversity, it is also -"James Hitchcock, "Here Lies Community: R.I.P.," America, May 30 1970, pp. 578-82. a Joseph Lachner, S.M., "Anomie and Religious Life," .ro~ R~w,~oos, v. 28 (1969), pp. 628-36; and Reginald Masterson, O.P., "Religious Life in a Secular Age," Cross and Crown, June 1970, p. 142. ~ Lachner, "'Anomie," p. 629. My listing of his effects is slightly modified. ~Thomas O'Meara, O.P., Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Life (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), p. 16 (italics omitted). intolerant of any worldview or metaphysic that tries to synthesize or establish relationships; hence it leads to subjectivism and individualism. German prefers plu-ralith't (plurality) which means that not only nnitariness and unity but multiplicity and diversity pervade reality and human experience.6 English uses the two words more or less interchangeably, but to Americans pluralism con-notes the variegated religious scene: "By plurfilism. I mean the coexistence within the one political commu-nity of gronps who hold divergent and incompatible views with regard to religious questions . Pluralism therefore implies disagreements and dissensions within the community. But it also implies a community within which there must be agreement and consensus.''7 In its fundamental sense, pluralism is a condition flowing from inan's mtture and the variety of human experience, from tlte nnique spiritual and intellectual histories of indi-viduals and groups, from urban specialization, the knowledge explosion, and Realpolitik: "The transparent, concrete unity of all things exists for man as a meta-physical postulate and an eschatological hope but not as something available for his manipulation. This plu-ralism is the hallmark of man's creatnreliness: only in God is there perfect unity; in the finite world the an-tagonisms within reality are invincible.''8 Pluralism is a condition of the Church which from the beginning welded opposing factions into a commt, nity of faith and love." There is no expression of Christian belief that can exhaust the message of Christ; there have always been plural (but complementary) theologies beginning with the Evangelists?o Pluralism is not merely to be tolerated but cherished by the Church who sees diversity as an effect of the outpouring of the Spirit. Pluralism helps to impede the growth of the wrong kind of collectivism in Church and society and prevents the establishment of privileged groups within the Church--or the establish-ment of the Church as a privileged group in society, for that matter: All modern pluralisms which move man into the center of things, which make him the subject and concern of the world °Heinrich Fries, "Theological Reflections on the Problem of Pluralism," Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), p. 3. *John Courtney Murray, S.J., We Hold These Truths (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1960), p. x. s Karl Rahner and Herbert Vorgrimler, Theological Dictionary (New York: Herder and Herder, 1965), p. 359. "Avery Dulles, s.J., "Loyalty and Dissent: After Vatican II," America, June 27 1970, p. 673. ~o Chenu and Heer, "Is the Modern World Atheist?" Cross Cur-rents, v. 11 (1961), p. 15; and John T. Ford, "Ecumenical Conver-gence and Theological Pluralism," Thought, Winter 1969, pp. 540-1. 4- Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 49 ÷ ÷ ,4. Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50 . which speak of freedom and of the unmanipulatible, in-violable Imman person, of the human dignity and human rights and conscience.which then are realized in the form of tolerance and humanitarianism and institutionally in the form of democracy--all these are original and legitimate fruits from the tree of Christian faith and of the effects which it envokes?' .4berrations o[ Pluralism Pluralism stands Janus-like, its second face something of a grotesque caricature of its first. Analysts of religion in America warn of possible disastrous results of an over-zealous espousal of pluralism. One attthor tohl the anec-dote of the donkey who starved between two bales of hay because be could not decide which to eat. On his death certificate was inscribed: Death due to acute, prolonged open-mindedness. In making the same point about 'plu-ralism, another author stated that "ahhougb it purports to be a total open-mindedness transcending sectarian lim-its, this attitude is really tire familiar Anglo-Saxon fallacy that if one pretends not to-have a metaphysic, then in fact be does not bave one." v, Radical Christians, he con-tinues, tend to embrace a dogmatic optimism which may lead to nihilism. From the. vacuum created by the at-tempt to buihl a cuhure without a consensus based on a belief system can come the substitution of a monolith like the "scientific world view" or "work"; or it can lead instead to a kind of pantheism: "The secularization of the West has not left a vacnum but a terrain filled with images and idols and ideologies." aa One of these idols may be an over-romantic and diffused notion of love inflated to fill the gap and be a Linus-blanket to hippie youth, splinter groups, and middle America alike.~ Or America itself may assume the Supreme Importance with the various religions being merely ahernate and variant forms of being religious in the American ¼Zay.~ In short, what passes for a uniqne unity of diverse religious naen-talities in America may be in fact indifferentism, a syn-cretic pseudo-religion, or a facade with the wars still go-ing on beneath a fragile surface of urbanity.~ Phtralism and the Religious Community I suggest that an urban religious community., would lean toward pluralism: all the members having a common ground, n Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 15. ~-"James Hitchcock, "Christian Values and a Secular Society," A merica, September 13 1969, p. 159. ~ZMartin E. Marty, Varieties of Unbelief (Garden City: Double-day, 1964), p. 58. "Ibid., p. 77. ~nWillia~n Herberg, Protestant, Catholic Jew (Gardeq City: Dou-bleday, 1960), p. 262; and Marty, Varieties, pp. 148-51. ~ Murray, We Hold These Truths, p. 19. ,; minimal basis of understanding, but each having his own freedom, being his own self, following his own trend, "doing his own thing." Here the role of the "shared common core" would be to protect and stimulate the individuality of each member, to foster diversity and not simply tolerate it.'7 How should a remark like tiffs one be interpreted in light of a mature understanding of the nature of plu-ralism?. Pluralism can be welcomed by the religious com-munity as a legitimate insight and a partial solution to polarization only if it is ~i pluralism which is authenti-cally evangelical. Following from what has been said above, it would seem that at least four statements can be made about pluralism in the religious community. Pluralism and Tolerance There must he an atmosphere of tolerance in the com-munity if diversity is not to result in hostility. Tolerance is born of reverence for the conscience of persons and of the realization that faith is a free thing. Tolerance must be more than polite civility. A person is not "tolerant who is naively unaware of the basic differences that exist be-tween members of his community or who tries to cover over these differences with an imposed unity of his own such as "love" or "personalism." 18 Neither is the one tolerant who believes that everyone should simply "do his own thing." Nor is the tolerant person the one who figures that eventually everyone will come around to his own view or that sooner or later "our day will come." Definitely the tolerant person is not the one who ap-proves any diversity--as long as it is one of the approved deviations permitted by the majority consensus. The tol-erant person has a high "tolerance" for the ambiguons, the imperfect, and the complex. Tolerance is akin to pa-tience. Pluralism and Conflict There will be tension and conflict in the ph~ralistic community and it is unrealistic to expect these to disap-pear in the foreseeable ft|ture. Tile community mn~t be constantly on gnard lest it react to conflict by reverting to a rigid structure, by attempting to stifle criticism, by silencing or ridding itself of individuals or groups who differ with the prevailing consensus, or in any other way hehaving defensively. Genuine pluralism requires ". that we resist policies destined to neutralize specific .and az Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 612. ~sSee the analysis of the shortcomings of the personalist world-view in Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 613. ÷ 4- + Pluralism VOLUME .30, 1971 51 Sister Mary Garascla REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS definite convictions and establish a uniform lowest com-mon denominator . ,, ~9 Pluralism and Diversity Individuality and diversity must be encouraged in a way that is more than a concession to the times. Laws have not yet structured diversity in religious practice into such key areas as spirituality, the vows, communal life, apostolic life; until diversity is sanctioned by law, it must exist surreptitiously and imperfectly. Groups should be able to exist within a community without be-ing made to feel that they are harmful or at least suspect. Rahner points out that groups in the Church are not dangerous in themselves as long as they are not merely representing particular interests, using unchristian means to make their will effective, working as pressure groups using the threat of schism, or confusing human or secular imperatives with gospel exigency.'-'0 Groups in a religious community need to discover their own limits and possibilities. No group should have special privileges; there must be equality of opportunity for the expression of spiritualities and philosophies and personalities. Phtralism and Unity A pluralistic society is one relentlessly searching for unity. Dialog is the process of this search, a dialog charac-terized by openmindedness but also by strong convictions and dedication to the truth, a debate conducted with the spiritual weapons of humility, persuasion, and wisdom. "There is in the Church a singnlar which may never be dissolved into a plural but always remains unique, definitive, unsurpassable, exclusive. . the once-for-all character of Christ, of his person, his history and his achievement." 21 In what shall the unity of the religions community consist? This is the question of the hour. Probably there will not be too many bonds, but they will be profound ones close to the sources of the Christian mystery. Perhaps a deepened appreciation of redemption and mission will hold together a community pluralized by diverse works. There must be a renewal of spirituality in the community, possibly in the direction of a sacra-mental spirituality. The.dialogic search for identity in Christ and the ever continuing effort to renew and purify the community--with the attendant insecurity and tur-moil- can give a sense of tmity to a community which comprehends the ways of the Spirit. Certainly the in- ~°William A. Visscr't Hooft, "A Universal Religion?" Catholic World, v. 206 (1967), p. 34. ~ Karl Rahner, "'Schism in the Church," Month, November 1969, pp. 252-6. '-'r Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 20. sight into the inviolable dignity of the person, the main contribution of American pluralism, is already acting as a motivating and unifying factor to some degree. Eventu-ally the search for unity must lead to the rediscovery of meaningfid symbols--actions and words which express and point to the reality which is the religious commu-nity. The unity of a community is not real unless it can be expressed in concrete symbolic form. The great task of plnralism is to turn our attention away from pragmatic and structural renewal toward a dialogic search by all diverse elements of a commnnity for the sources of its unity. Tim purpose of this essay has been to reflect on the reality of pluralism as it is understood in ecumenical studies in order to understand what its application might be in the American religious community of today. Taking its cue from the Church, the religious community em-braces its own variety, conscious that through plurality o[ personalities, mentalities, and spiritualities, it can be truly experienced in good deeds and service, a sign of wisdom, and a radiant bride made beautifid for her spouse.'-"-' Vatican Council II, Decree on Renewal oI Religious Lile, n. 1. 4- + + Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 53 SISTER MARY FINN Woman Who Is She? Sister Mary Finn is a Hotne Visitor of Mary and lives at 356 Arden Park; Detroit, Michigan 48202. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 54 The gospel of Mary is the good news of woman. Woman is the one who sets out, goes forth, quickly--to the city. town., street; into the hill country., house of Zach-ary; greeting Elizabeth. proclaiming., magnifying. Woman is the one who magnifies--the one the Lord God magnifies. The Lord proclaims His greatness in her; over-flows with love and delight; praises her; rejoices in her. He sets His eyes upon her; blesses her for all generations. Woman goes to a town . to Jesus. Jesus is the town. Jesus is where she lives, pours out her love, receives full-ness and riches of earth. She comes to hill country., to home of all the Zacharys there are. Woman is honse of Zachary, house of birth, house of brothering, sistering; house of new life; place of communion, so

Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor,.as well as books for review, should be sent to I~VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Dt, imty of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, .539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R

Issue 9.2 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; MARGH° 15, 1950 Diocesan or PonHfical ? 'Joseph F. Galle. 'Virtue of Faith . John M~hews Oh'Controversy . ~. Gera[~Kelly Works:of God Manifest . .Dominic Hughes (;)uesHons and Answers Book Reviews Communications Report to Rome VOLUME IX NUMBER 2 Ri::VII::W FOR RI:::LI IOUS VOLUME IX MARCH, 1950 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL ?--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 57 THE VIRTUE OF FAITH IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE-- John Matthews, S.J . 69 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 ON CONTROVERSY~ (An Editorial)--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 73 SEARCHLIGHTING ~URSELVES . 77 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST--Dominic Hughes, O.P. . 78 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY . 91 COMMUNICATIONS . 95 SUMMER SESSION . 96 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Mother of the Savior and Our Interior Life; Ignatlan Methods of Prayer; Little Catechism of Prayer . ~ . 97 BOOK NOTICES . " . 100 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Abandoned Wife Entering Religion . 104 8. Extending Postulancy, Novitiate, etc . 105 9. Postulancy outside Novitiate . 106 I0. Dowry When Transferring to Contemplative Order . 106 11. Sick Religious and Daily Communion . 107 12. Genuflections in,Chapel . 108 REPORT TO ROME . 108 THOUGHTS ON ST. JOSEPH . 112 IN MEMORIAM (Alf'red F. Schneider, S.J.) . 1 12 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 2. 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 January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly. 8.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrltln9 to us, please cons,,It notice on Inside back cover. Diocesan or Pont:ific l? ¯Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THE following pages constitute ~in effqrt to answer two practical canonical' questions: (1) should a diocesan congregation "Con-fine' itself to the diocese of origin? (2) should a' diocesa'n congregation become pontifical? These are very. important questions for many institutes. They are also questions to which angwers can. be given that are based solely on personal knowledge and espe'ciallT on personal preference. Such knowledge can be inadequate and the preference can be very subjective. Therefore, I l~ave tried to avoid mere.personal opinion and to base the answers primarily on the mind and 'v~ill of the Holy See and secondarily on the opinions that com-monly exist in the Church as found in approved authors. ~" I. DiSti~'~tion of Defi'nition between a Pontifical and a "" Diocesan Congregatiqn~ . . :,~., It is by no means unusual to encounter the mistaken opiniqfi.th, a~ a, diocesan religious institute is one that. is confined to a particul.ar. diocese and a pontifical institute one that has houses in seve.ral di0,- ceses. These false definitions are deafly excluded by canon 488, 3°: "'institute app~ou.ed bg the Hqlg See. (Religio iuris pontifical), ~every institute which has obtained from. the Apostolic S~e either ~p~r.o.-'.~ ba~ion'~o~'i.a.t, leas.t.the decree of commendation (decretur~,'l~udis)t;i Diocesan Institute, an institute erected by Ordinaries, which ~has ~not y~.t:.o."bthined this" decre~ ofcommendation.". Thu's the diStinCtiOn between a pontifical and a diocesan congregation has in itself nothing Whatever to do with territorial diffusion; it is based sblely on the p~es.ende or'absbnce of approval by the Holy See. We shall see tha~ a diocesan institute is also destined to spread to many dioceses, and d~ffu~ion~ to'. rrian~r diocese~ is only an ordinary, not ari absolfitel prerequisite for obtaifiing papal opproyal. In actual fact there are diocesan;. congregati6ns in the United 'States that haCce spread to several dioceses., It is equally true that some pontifical congregation~ in~thi~ c6dh~ry are confined to one diocese. ~All religious orders are pontifical institutes, since the approbation of 'an order is reserved to the Ho!y See. Ther?fore, institutes such as those of the Carmelite Nuns, Dominican Nuns, Poor Clares, Sacra-mentirie'Nuns, and Visithndines are pontifical. A religi0ds order is 57 JOSEPH F. GA'LLEN Review for Religious ¯ an institute whose particular law pr~scribes that at least some of the subjects at least should take solemn vows (can. 488, 2°). The hope of clarifying this o'ften misunderstood definitio'n is the justificat.for the tautology. It is not required that all of the members of the institute, but it is s~f~cient that only some of these, should either actually take solemn vows or be obliged to do so by the law of the institute. An institute can also be an order even if none of the mem-bers actually take solemn vows. It is sufficient that some should do so from the particular law of the institute.1 Solemn vows are not taken in mo~t of the monasteries of nuns in the United States, yet all of these institutes are orders since at least some of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the particular law of the institute.2 A religious congregation is an institute in which all the members actually take simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, and in which none of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the law of the institute (canon 488, 2°). No religious institute can exist in the Church that has not been approved by legitimate ecclesi-astical authority. The foundation of a religious institute may certai.nly be approved by the Roman Pontiff, but in practice it is approved by the ordinary of the diocese of foundation. This approval of the local ordinary makes the congregation a diocesan institute. ~For example, article 37 of the Constitutions of the Ursuline Nuns of the Congre-gation of Paris, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. reads as follows: "By tight, these vows are solemn vows, as they were so approved by holy Church at the beginning: but, in fact, in this country, by disposition of the Holy See, they are only simple vows." Article 641 of the Constitutions of Dominican Nuns reads: "Those Nuns of our Order whose vows are, by constitution, solemn but who because of circumstances of time (cgn. 488, 70), by prescription of the Apostolic See, make only. simple VOWS . " -°In 1864 the Holy See declared the following monasteries of Visitation Nuns in the United States had solemn vows: Washington, (Georgetown), Baltimore (Roland Park), Mobile, St. Louis, and Kaskaskia. The last-mentioned later united with its daughter community in St. Louis. Mo. Since 1864 the monasteries that follow have received a rescript from the Holy See granting solemn vows. The year of the rescript is put in parentheses. Carmelite Nuns of the Ancient Observance: Allentown (1931): Discalced Carmelite Nuns: Philadelphia (1902, but solemn vows were first taken in 1925), Wheeling (1925), Bettendorf (1949), Louisville (1930), Morristown (1926), Loretto (1932), Rochester (1930), Mobile (1943), New Brunswick (1948): Dominican Nuns: Detroit (1929, Menlo Park (1929), West Springfield, Mass, (1928): Dominican Nuns of the Perpetual Rosary: Buffalo (1944), Camden (1947), Syracuse (1947): Poor Clare Nuns: Cleveland (1946); Franciscan Nuns of the Most Blessed Sacrament: Cleveland (1912), Canton (1925, but solemn vows were first taken in 1950): Nuns of Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament (Spanish speaking) : E1 Paso (1930) : Visita-tion Nuns: Elfindale, Springfield, Mo. (1888). Solemn vows are taken in the Oriental Order of St. Basil the Great. Four other monasteries have applied for solemn vows¯ 58 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR DONTIFICAL? After an initial period of growth the congregation usually peti-tidns the Holy See for papal approval. The attainment of papal approval makes the congregation a pontifical institute. It is sufficient that the Holy See approve either the institute or the constitutions. The present ordinary practice of the Holy See is to approve both. In answer to the first petition of the congregation for papal approval, the Holy See gives its first approval to the" institute by what is called a decree of praise or commendation. At the same time the Holy See gives a temporary and experimental approval to the.constitutions for a determined period of time, which now is usually seven years. At the end of this time the congregation sends another petition to Rome. The Holy See then gives a final approbation to the constitutions and, frequently at least, a definitive approbation to the institute.3 The practice of the Holy See can vary in many matters, and it has varied in the present case of the approval of religious congrega-tions. It is possible to find congregations that have long possessed papal approval and yet discern that the constitutions alone were approved by the Holy See. A doubt could and did arise as to the sufficiency of an approval of the constitutions alone, since the Code definition of a pontifical institute appears to be confined to a decree of~ praise or approbation of the institute. However, the presumption always is that a canon agrees with the pre-'Code law, and Leo XIII had originally defined pontifical institutes as those "in which in addi-tion the sentence of the Roman Pontiff has intervened, either by approval of their laws and statutes or also by the granting of praise or approbation.TM In this definition the approval of the constitu-tions is not only sufficient but apparently primary. All doubt was removed by a reply of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that the Sisters of Mercy, founded by Mother McAuley, were pontifical, whether it was a question of the independent communities or of the unions that had been established with the approval of the Holy See.5 3For the present practice of the Holy See, cf. P. Cosmas Sartori, O.F.M., duris-prudentiae Ecclesiasticae Elernenta (Romae: Pontif. Athenaeum Antonianum, 1946)~ p. 74. 4Leo XIII, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" 8 dec. 1900, Codicis luris Canonici Fontes III. p. 562. The same definition is repeated twice in the constitution. Cf., pp. 563, 564. nThis particular reply of Nov. 24, 1925, undoubtedly because of its general import, was published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, XVIII (1926), 14. It can be found in English in Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, pp. 269-270. Valuable commen-taries on the reply have been written by. Maroto, Cornrnentariurn Pro Religiosis, VII (1926), 83-92: and Vermeersch, Periodica, XV (1927), 52-53. To any-one unaware of this reply the distinctive constitutions of the independent com-munities can' cause difficulty as to their pontifical character. 59 .JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review foF Religious The constitutions alone of the Sisters of Mercy were approved by the Holy See in 1841. The same thing is apt to be true of any.congrer gation of religious women approved before 1850, because of the varying practice of the Holy See in approving religious congregations. Therefore, a congregation is made pontifical by any one or m6re of the following.four approvals: approval of the institute by either a decree of praise or of definitive approbation; approval of the con-stitutions either experimentally or finally. To all congregations that have received any one of these approvals are equally applied" the rights, laws, and obligations of pontifical institutes. II. Should a Diocesan Congregation Confine Itself to the Diocese of Origin? 1. The Code of Cation Lau;.--Canon 495, § 1 reads: "A dioce-san religious congregation cannot establish houses in another diocese without the consent of both Ordinaries, namely: the Ordinary of the place where the motherhouse is situated and the Ordinary of' the place where it is desired to make the new foundation, but the Ordi- .nary of the place of delSarture, shall not without a grave reason refuse his, consent." For the first house to be erected by a dlocesan.institt~te in anothe~ diocese, this canon requires the permission not only of the ordinary of~the new house but also of the ordinary of the mother-house. We can s.ee in this law of the Code an implicit affirmation of the closer guardianship, of the greater interest, supervision, and direc-tion that the ordinary of the diocese of origin is to exercise over a diocesan congregation in the early years of its existence. The same canon explicitly forbids the ordinary of the mother? house to refuse permission for the erection of a house in another diocese unless he has not merely a. reasonable or a just reason but a serious reason for the refusal. The .Code of Canon Law, therefore, implicitly states that it is the or~linary thing for a diocesan institute to spr,ead to other dioceses and that this diffusion can be prevented only by reason of a serious obstacle. It cannot be held that thi~ seri-ous obstacle is ordinarily tO be fouiad in diocesan institutes.' If this-were factually tr.ue, there would be little sense in the law of the Code that forbids the ordinary'of the motherhouse to refuse the permissi?n, and the law would rather read: "and the Ordinary of the mother~ house may grant this permission in extraordinary cases.',Y Therefore, the" law 'of the Code is that confinement to one" dioces~ sli'~.uld ble restricted to the early years of the existence-of.a, diocesan dongrega:- fi0n wl~en the institute is a.c.qujri, ng strength rand:.sta,,~:ilit.~.: .~T.h.!.s. 60 March, 1950" DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? period should not be excessively prolonged. Diffusion to other dioceses is a usual prerequisite for obtaining papal approval, but the Holy See stated before the Code of Canon Law that ten or fifteen years from the time of the foun'dation of the first house of theinsti-tute could suffice for the presentation of a petition for papal approval.6 2. Documents of the Holy See.--The Holy See both before and after the Code of Canon Law has issued norms that are to guide the local ordinaries in the erection of new institutes. One of the most important of these norms is that the ordinary, rather than found a n~w congregation, is to invite and admit into his diocese a congrega-tion already approved that has the purpose desired by the ordinary. In speaking of these congregations already approved the Holy See makes no distinction between pontifical and diocesan congregations.) Therefore, the Holy See again positively implies that diocesan insti-tutes are not to be confined to the diocese of origin. 3. Doctrine of authors.--Two authors, Fogliassos and Muzza-relli, 9 have recently made detailed studies into the juridical nature of diocesan congregations. Fogliasso states: "Certainly a diocesan con-gregation, even though it consists of only one house, unlike a mon-astery of nuns, is an organism that bg its verst nature tends to uni-versality . The purpose of the disposition of canon 495, § 1 is to prevent the local ordinary of the motherhouse from impeding the ordered diffusion of a new congregation. This diffusion together with spiritual fruits is required for the granting of a decree of praise. Furthermore, recourse can always be made to the Holy See against the arbitrary opposition of this ordinary. Therefore, the norm of canon 495, § I, while it immediately, furthers the fundamental liberty of a new congregation, which is the attainment of its own increase, paves the way for the congregation to reach the prescribed condition by which, through means of a decree of praise, it may take its place 6Normae Secundum Quas 8. Congr. Episcoporum et Regulariura Procedere Sofet in Approbandis Novis lnstitutis Votorurn Simpliciurn, 28 iun. 1901, n. 9. ~Leo XII][, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" § 1, III, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 563; Pius X, Motu Propr. "Dei providentis,'" 15 iul. 1906, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 675; S. C. de Prop. Fide, Instr., "'De Congregationibus Religiosis lndigenis Condendis,'° 19 mart. 1937, n. 1, AAS XXIX (1937), 276. SAemilius Fogliasso, S.D.B., lntroductio in Vigentem Disciplinara de luridicis Re-lationibus inter Religiones et Ordinarium Loci (Augustae Taur[norum: Schola T}'pographica Salesiana, 1948). 9Fridericus MuzzareIli, S.S.P., Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibus luris Di-oecesani (Romae: apud Piam Societatem a S. Pau[o Aposto[o, 1943). 61 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious among pontifical institutes.''~° Muzzarelli expresses the same doctrine: "The nature of a diocesan congregation precisely as diocesan is universal only in potency and capacity . . . indeed the mind of "the Holy See with regard to these congregations is not that from their foundation they should be aSso-lutely confined within the boundaries of one diocese. They are rather considered as the first stage, the first phase of juridical et~olution. When this evolution is completed they become pontifical and uni-versal in fact and in law . Hence it generally happens that these congregations become multidiocesan in a short time and l~hus are uni-versal in fact . If the ordinary (of the motherhouse) should refuse his consent, recourse is always open to the Holy See.''11 Father Vidal, S.J., whose eminence as a canonist and years of service as a consultor of various Roman Congregations should qualify him to know the mind and prac.tice of the Holy See, affirms: ". the ordinary of the place of dephrture is forbidden to refuse his " consent except for a serious reason (canon 495, § 1) ; and recourse against an unreasonable refusal would always be open to the Sacred Congregation, which will usually lend a ready ear to such a recourse, unless there is question of an institute that is faring badly and is destined rather for extinction.''x~ The doctrine that a diocesan institute should at least ordinarily spread to other dioceses is held implicitly by many of the authors mentioned below, who teach that diocesan congregations should ¯ become pontifical, since diffusion to other dioceses is in the practice of the Holy See an ordinary prerequisite for obtaining papal approval. 4. Diffusion does not imply separation.--Diffusion to other dioceses is the second phase of the natural growth of a diocesan con-gregation to the juridical maturity of a pontifical congregation. Evidently diffusion does not impiy but excludes separation from the houses of the diocese of origin. Canon 495, § 1 is speaking of the spread of the same institute to other dioceses, not of the erection of. new institutes in other dioceses. The fear of separation, however, can exist. The diffusion of diocesan and even of pontifical congrega-tions to other dioceses of the United States in the last century very frequently was followed by a separation from the houses of the diocese of origin (and the same thing occurred in other countries). ~-0Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. The italics in this and subsequent citations are mine. XlMuzzarelli, op. cir., nn. 51, 123. xZWernz-Vidal, Ius Canonicum, III, "De Religiosis,'" n. 61. 62 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL Fortunately, many of these separated congregations have ultimately at least prospered in vocations and in the extent and excellence of their lives and work. These happy consequences have not always been verified. Some of these congregations are still small in number of subjects, and they toil in vain for increase in the rocky territories of few Catholics and few vocations. It would obviously .have been much better if they had remained.united to houses located in dioceses that are more fertile in vocations and also financially. Furthermore, such separations were not of their nature conducive to a progressive improvement in the spiritual and intellectual formation of subjects. These separations may not be effected now without the permission of the Holy See, since the separation would involve at least the erec-tion of a new institute and also the passing of professed religious from one institute to another, both of which require recourse to the Holy See (canons 492, § 1; 632). III. Should a Diocesan Congregation become Pontifical? 1. The Code of Canon Latv.--To Father Arcadio Larra-ona, C.M.F., the present undersecretary of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, we are especially indebted for evolving the answer from the Code of Canon Law. Father Larraona calls attention to the definition in the Code of a diocesan congregation, which is not described as one that has been approved by a local ordinary or as one that does not possess or has not obtained a decree of commendation but as one, "that has not yet (nondum) obtained this decree of com-mendation (canon 488, 3°).'' Thus the very definition of a dioce-san congregation in the Code of Canon Law manifests that it is only in an initial and transitory state and in the first phase of a juridical evolution that is to terminate in the attainment of pontifical approval,la Larraona could have derived the same conclusion from canon 492, § 2. The argument is clearer in the translation of Woywood- Smith, although it can also be d~duced from the Vatican translation. This canon reads: "A diocesan congregation retains that character though it has in the course of time spread to several dioceses, and it remains completely under the jurisdiction of the bishops, until it has obtained from the Holy See approval or, at least, the decree of praise." The Vatican translation of this last and pertinent clause is: "as long as it is without pontifical approval or the decree of commendation." The Code here again does not consider a diocesan congregation to be laLarraona, Cornmentarium Pro Religiosis, II (192 I), 284. 63 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious . in a definitive but only in an initial and temporary state. 2. The initiative of bishops.--The most°manifest testimony of the i.nspiration, encouragement, and support of bishops to diocesan congregations becoming pontifical is the vast number of congr.egations that ha~e been approved by the Holy See. This support of bishops wa~ evident at an early date in the era of pontifical approval of congregations of Sisters. The Provinci.al Council of Avignon, held in 1849, enacted the following norm for the bishops of the province: "That [Sisters] may conform their lives to that prescribed by the rule they have professed and observe their constitutions and praiseworthy customs, that the constitutions also may have a greater authority, the bishops are to take care as' soon as possible that these be approved by the Holy See,. if they have not already been approved.''14 The bishops of the Plenary Council of Latin America, celebrated in 1899, established a similar law: "Since in congregations that have spread into several dioceses and whose constitutions have not as yet been submitted to the examination, correction, and approbation of the Holy See, here and there things have been done in good faith that are contrary to the laws and mind of the Hoist See, we decree that, the prescriptions of law being observed, such congregations which, in the judgment of the bishops, increase and give good expectations to the Church shall submit their statutes to the judgment of and petition the approval of the Holy See.''1~ 3. The doctrine of authors. Especially in this important ques-tion authors are cited primarily to manifest the mind and the will of the Holy See and also to give the answer that is generally held in the Church. Greater attention should clearly be given to the canonists who are acknowledged specialists in the field of canon law for religious. LARRAONA: This author has been engaged since 1920 in writing an exhaustive explanation of the canons on religious in the Cormnentariurn Pro Religiosis. The greatest tribute to his authority is the frequency and respect with which he is generally cited by other authors. Writing of pontifical and diocesan congregations before the Code of Canon Law, he states that diocesan congregations were not considered "as something fixed and stable but as incomplete entities, tending by their nature to juridical perfection, which in the second 14Concilium Provinciae Avenionensis, Collectio Lacensi#, tom. IV, col. 351, n. 2. l~Acta et Decreta Con¢ilii Plenarii Americae Latinae (Roinae: Typis Vaticanis, 1902), n. 324. 64 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? category, that is, in pontifical congregations, alone appeared to be found.''10 This same doctrine, although not with the same urgency, he later applies to diocesan congregations after the Code of Canon Law.17 He likewise affirms: ".-. the constitution of a di6cesan congregation is not very conducive to the internal unity, strength and liberty of diffusion of the institute. The result is that diocesan con-gregations have scarcely begun to evolve and to be diffused when they are borne along almost by their own weight to become pontifical, which corresponds completely to the mind of the Holy See.''~s He styles the diocesan state of a congregation as the novitiate of the insti-tute and says of this novitiate: ". the Sacred Congregation has tended and now tends to surround this [diocesan state] with suffi-cient protection and to affirm it as transitory by representing this state to the eyes of both the bishops and the congregation as a period of probation, which should not be prolonged longer than is necessary to test the spirit and stability of the.congregation and for it to obtain some diffusion. When this test has been surpassed, it is undoubtedly the mind of the Hol~l See that a decree of commendation should be requested.''1° He continues: "Unless congregations become pontifical when they reach the above maturity, experience certainly proves that they can scarcely preserve their unity of spirit, of ministries, and of government. Consequently the.i.r internal force and solidity is almost necessarily exposed to positive dangers, or at least the congre-gation is uselessly hindered and its tendency for diffusion and expan-sion impeded.''u° In another work he reaffirms the same principle: "From the nature of the case a unity of government is scarcely pos-sible if the government itself is practically divided into as many parts as there are dioceses in which the institute has houses.''~ Other passages could be cited from this outstanding author to confirm the doctrine he states above that the diocesan state of a congregation is of its very nature transitory and the mind of the Holy See is that such congregations should seek papal approval after the initial period of probation and diffusion. 16Larraona, 17Larraona, lSLarraona, 10Larraona, 20Larraona, Commentariura Pro Religiosis, I (1920), 137. ibid., II (1921)', 284. ibid., II (1921), 284. ibid., V (1924), 146. ibid., V (1924), 146. ~aLarraona, Acta Congressus luridici Internationalis, IV, "'De Potestate Dorainativa Publica in lure Canon&o," p. 153, nota 17. JOSEPH F: GALLEN Reoieto [or Religious FOGLIASSO22 and. MUZZARELLIz~ accept and assert the doc-trine of Larraona, but the latter adds: ". especially when a con-gregation has spread to distant territories a practical necessity exists of asking for a decree of praise and approval of the con'stitutions from the Holy See, if one wishes to provide for the security, unity, and becoming expansion of the entire institute.''24 BASTIEN, who is a most eminent authority on the canon law for institutes of simple vows, states in the editions of his book pub-lished both before and after the Code of Canon Law: "The condi-tion of a diocesan congregation, as described in the preceding pages, is rather precarious; spread in different dioceses, they are dependent upon various bishops, without a sufficiently strong central authority. No wonder, then, that the. Holg See desires them to leave this initial stage, and exhorts them to present their constitutions [or its ap-proval."~ 5 BATTANDIER, who is of equal authority on institutes of simple vows, states in the same editions of his hook: "But the,dioce-san institute can naturally have the desire to attach itself more closely to the Apostolic See, which will give more authority to its govern-ment, more stability to its laws, and will permit it to be assured of the future.''~° Among the authors who have expressed their opinion less strongly are the following: CREUSEN-ELLIS: "When the new institute shall have devel-oped sufficiently and shall have shown by the test of time the value of its religious spirit and its unity, it may ask of the Holy See a posi-tive approbation.''27 "The Code does not provide for the erection of provinces in an institute which is purely diocesan. When it has arrived at this importance, it should ask for approbation from Rome, which will make its life and its government more autonomous.''2s 22Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. Z3Muzzarelli, op. cit., nn. 51, 102. ~4Muzzarelli, op. cir., n. 102. ~SDom Pierre Bastien, O.S.B., Directoire Canonique a l'usage des Congrdgations ~ Voeux Simples (lst edit., 1904, Abbaye de Maredsous), n. 22; (4th edit., 1933. Bruges: Ch. Beyaert), n. 70. The translation is that of D. I. Lanslots, O.S.B., Handbook of Canon Law (New York: Pustet, 1931), n. 19. Lanslot's d!gest is based on Bastien. ~OMgr. Albert Battandier, Guide Canonique Pour Les Constitutions des Instituts Voeux Simples (Paris: Librairie Victor Lecoffre), 4th edit., 1908, n. 19; 6th edit., 1923, n. 20. :tTCreusen-Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code (Milwaukee: The .Bruce Publishing Company, 3rd English edition, 1940), n. 27. ~SCreusen-Ellis. ibid., n. 30. 66 March, 19 5 0 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? BOUSCAREN-ELLIS: "'It is the mind ot: the Church that after a diocesan congregation has developed its membership and spread to other dioceses, and has given satisfaction in its pursuit of good works, it may apply to the Holy See for pontifical approbation and thus become a po.ntifical institute.''2~ REGATILLO: "Diocesan congregations are not accustomed to be divided into provinces because when they are sufficiently diffused they become pontifical.''~° RAMSTEIN: "Since every religion of diocesan law normally entertains the hope of acquiring in time the status of a religion of papal approval . JOMBART: "A congregation spread into several dioceses and flourishing generally desires to become pontifical.''z2 "A multidioce-san and large congregation desires almost always to become pon-tifical, the better to safeguard its unity.''3~ Doctorate dissertations in canon law of the Catholic University of America have expressed similar opinions: ORTH: "The great difference that exists between episcopal and papal approbation is well known and, since the papal dxcels the epis-copal in extent, being wider and greater in effects and giving assur-ance of an unerring guidance, it is not in the least surprising that from the start, a new religious congregation will have this in view, to obtain a favorable decision'concerning itself from the Holy See. In its early stages a new community is still in an imperfect condition. Though entirely an autonomous society, yet it is subject to many restrictions on the part of the bishop. Besides formerly if it should chance to spread into other dioceses many things militated~ against unity which is a prime requisite in order that the institute preserve its original nature and purpose. In this respect nowadays it is welI pro-tected by the Code. The aim of the new society will be to have firmness and stability, to be enriched with all the privileges and favors of Mother Church, which aim will not be fully obtained unless it has received the seal of definite approbation from the Head of all christendom.''34 "The spread to other dioceses is considered ~t0Bouscaren-Ellis, Canon Law (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1946), p. 234. Z0Regatillo, lnstitutiones luris Canonici (Santander: Sal Terrae, 1946), I, n. 650. 81Ramstein, A Manual of Canon Law (Hoboken: Terminal Printing ~ Publishing Co., 1947), p. 299. a22ombart, Traitd de Droit Canonique (Paris: Letouzey et Ane, 1946) I, n. 810, 2. 33Jombarr, ibid. 8'~C. R. Orth, O.M.C., The Approbation of Religious Institutes (Washington: The Catholic University of America, 193.1), p. 131. 67 JOSEPH 1::. GALLEN the best reason for asking the approbation of the Holy See, because in that case there would be as many heads as there are bishops of the places where the community is established and this multiplied gov-ernment is not conducive to unity.''s5 FARRELL: "When a congregation has received pontifical appro-bation many phases of its subjection are withdrawn from the local Ordinaries in whose territory the congregation exists, and this juris-diction is supplanted by direct subjection to the Holy See. Thus, unfettered by the divergencies of the multiplicity of diocesan juris-dictions, the congregation achieves an extensive opportunity to exer-cise in a wider way the autonomy of moral personality, affording a unity of purpose through the various ramifications of its internal government to accomplish more effectively the work and purpose of its foundation.''s° IV. Conclusion The reader is now in a position to give his own answers to the questions of this article. These answers should be based primarily on the mind and will of the Holy See and on the common opinion in the Church. If the will of the Holy See is evident with regard to any action, arguments in favor of or contrary to that action are simply a matter of indifference. The intrinsic arguments for seeking papal approval emphasized by the authors cited above are: (1) the government and the constitu-tions of the institute receive a greater authority; (2-) the central and internal government becomes stronger; (3) the unity of govern-ment, spirit, and ministries of the institute is preserved;. (4) the in-stitute is endowed with a greater stability and is thus better able to preserve its original nature-and accomplish its original purpose: (5) the life and government of the institute become more autono-mous; (6) the institute has a greater liberty of diffusion and thus of increase. To these can be added (7) the more autonomous character of the institute naturally begets a greater internal initiative; (8) the immediate subjection to the Head of all Christendom and the wider diffusion of the institute are more apt to engender the universal view-point of the Holy See; (9) the constitutions approved by the Holy See and examined and corrected by specialists will very likely possess a greater excellence and utility. s~Orth, ibid., p. 145. SOB. F. Farrell, The Rights and Duties of the Local Ordinary Regarding Congrega-tions, o[ Women Religious o[ Pontifical Approval (Washington: The Catholic Uni-versity of America Press, 194~1), p. 56. 68 The Vir :ue of F:ait:h in :he Spiri :ual Life ~lohn Matthews, S.~I. BY ITS BAPTISMAL BIRTH man's soul receives divine life for the first time. It takes on a wholly, new and higher life. A second life comes into the soul and into its powers of mind and will. While sanctifying grace lifts the soul to a divine way of life, the virtues of faith, hope, and charity fill man's mind and will with the strength he needs to live his higher life. Thus grace thrbugh faith, hope, and charity makes us new men with new minds and wills. But what is faith? Life means power; faith is a God-given power of our grace-life. Life means lasting power; on this earth the holy person always possesses faith. This faith is a virtue, a power to take God at His word. By faith in action we believe God just because it is God who has spoken. In faith we bend our minds to the authority of God, of God's Son 3esus Christ and of God's Church. Man has a duty of bowing his whole self before God; through faith be subjects his mind to God. Thus faith is belief in God because He knows and tells the truth; those who enjoy such faith we call the faithful. In our Christian life this virtue is absolutely necessary. ~¢ usually comes through baptism and is lost only by mortal sins against faith such as heresy and apostasy. So the grown-up without faith lives in serious sin and has turned himself away from both God and heaven. "But without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb. 11:6)--in the way God wants to be pleased, honored, adored, loved and obeyed, i.e., in the supernatural way of life. Again, we need faith because it enters into every deed of our grace-life. In all these works faith is at least implicit. Lastly, as souls born of God, we must have faith. For, as the child must be able to take his parents at their word, so we must be able to believe our heavenly Father: and we do this by faith~ "For you are a11 the children of God by faith" (Gal, 3:26). This important virtue of which we speak is a supernatural gift. It forms part of the equipment by which holy souls live and grow in the divine life. With this faith we know truths man could never know of himself. All the genius of Aristotle, Shakespeare, and 69 JOHN MATTHEWS Review [orReligious Edison could never figure them out; all the power of all men's minds could, never guess them. For by faith we know divine truths in a divine way. We see with certainty what God has told men through Christ and the, Church;; we take a .deeper look into God's teachings; we view everything with a sight and understanding far beyond the human. Through faith, furthermore, we possess the mind of Christ. "But we have the mind of Christ" (1 Cot. 2 : 16). This is the new mind we receive along with the new life of grace. No longer do we think and plan in a merely human{ way but we think as Christ did, we plan as Christ planned, we value what Christ valued. We think holy thoughts; we know the truths Christ knew and chose to tell us; we accept His judgments and values on everything, e.g., on the world, on race and color, on the human soul. With the new mind of faith the supernatural man looks on all things in their relation to God and to his own salvation. This is faith at work--a living active fruitful faith: The virtue of faith, while itself interior, produces acts of faith both interior and exterior. Indeed, the faith of God's children must be a working faith. Such is the message of St. James in his Epistle. "For even as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead" (James 2:26). Possessing the mind of Christ, we must use that mind to live our divine life. For faith is the rock-foundation of our morals, our devotions, and our liturgy. Hence our holy deeds must be rooted in and must spring from faith in action. The "man of God must live by faith, and this he does when he bows his mind to divine truth on God's authority and when he guides his actions by that truth. Faith guides our actions by entering into there. It underlies and penetrates all our virtuous acts. The Catholic can hope for heaven only after faith tells him heaven exists. The faithful obey Christ's Church because faith assures them it is the true. church. Penitents by approaching the confessional bear witness to their faith that God's priest has power to forgive sins. In his belief that bap-tism is necessary for salvation, the Catholic father bears his child to the font of eternal life. Confirmed in faith, God's children adore the Eucharistic Christ, receive Holy Communion, and offer the Holy Sacrifice. As another instance of how faith penetrates.our life of holiness, let us consider charity. This latter virtue shows .itself in many diverse acts (1 Cot. 13:~r-8). There is the love of God above all 70 March, 1950 VIRTUE OF FAITH else, which we must practice in order to continue living the divine life. There are the works ofmercy, compassion' for one's fellow men, perfect contrition, almsgiying, the love of our neighbor in Christ, th~ expending of self for God's sake and for others. The reason why holy souls do these charitable deeds is the love of God in Himself and of men in God. But this infinite lovableness of God they know through.faith, which teaches them that God deserves to receive our purest love. Thus faith enters into our works of charity by supplying a supernatural reason for doing them. So too in all the circumstances of life does faith play its divinely assigned part. The truths we believe have power to overcome our human fear, weakness, and distrust of seIf. How often Our Savior spoke these words: "thy faith hath made thee whole" (Matt. 9:29; 15:28; Luke 8:48; 17:19). In the face of temptation, sickness, evil habits, poverty, andpersecution our faith gives us grounds for confidence that we can overcome all hardships in a Christlike man-ner. "This is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith" (1 dohn 5:4). In. order to see further the force and value of Catholic belief in the soul, let us view two men-~one with and the other without faith. On the death of a relative the latter can give only human sympathy, cannot help the deceased, can only send flowers and'can-not comfort the bereaved very'greatly. The real Catholic through his faith speaks words of divine sympathy. He helps both his dead relative and bereaved kinsfolk--by his comforting words, by his prayers and Masses and virtuous deeds. The soul without faith grieves as those "who have no hope" (I Thess. 4:13); the faithful soul sees in death God's will, entertains the hope of eternal happi-ness for his dear deceased, and offers his pain at bereavement to help his relative into heaven. Again the work of faith appears when these same men yisit a Catholic church. To the faithless person the church is a structure--perhaps, a thing of beauty; to the faithful, it is a home, a holy place, the house of God. For the former the stained-glass windows may be works of art; for the Catholic they serve to recall the mysteries of his religion and to hold his mind in prayer. In the opinion of the man without faith the baptismal font, confes-sional, and altar rail are the ordinary furnishings of a church; the child of God esteems them as sources of divine life in his soul. To his mind the tabernacle is no mere happening but the abode of Christ in the Eucharist; the altar is no chance property but the place of daily sacrifice, the bne thing withoutt which no building can be a church: 71 JOHN MATTHEWS the sactuary lamp is not just an adornment but a sign to the faithful that Jesus is at home, waiting for their visit. In the Catholic church the person who has not faitl-J is a stranger and sight-seer, the man of faith is at home with Jesus in His Father's house. So vast is the difference between the person without faith and the man whose actions are wholly penetrated by tiis Catholic faith! Let us sum up now the work of faith in the divine life of our soul. The virtue of faith gives us a new mind, enlightened with the new truths of Our Lord's Testament. A grown-up receiving the virtue of faith, may seem the same after his conversion as before-- ¯ but he is not. He has new thoughts; he knows God's new com-mands; all events in his life take on a divine meaning for eternity: his belief gives a heavenly purpose to his actions: he will soon show by his outward deeds of virtue the inward change within his mind. "For with the heart we believe unto justice: but with the mouth confession is made unto salvation" (Rum. 10:10). Moreover, to live the life of grace we must 1ire a life of faith. This virtue must influence' a11 our actions. Hence our every deed must be an act "of faith, must bear witness that we choose~ to be amongst God's faithful, must be a profession of our belief. Our religion, which is our .faith, must underlie all the circumstances of our lives and give them a Catholic tone and value. That is the work ¯ of faith. Thus by living a life of faith we actively live our grace-life. "The just man liveth by faith" (Rum. 1:17). Indeed, our faith and our divine life grow step by step together. For every holy deed we do God gives us this reward: our grace-life grows fuller and at the same time our virtue of faith is so deepened and enriched that it becomes stronger against temptation, that we are more Christ-minded, that we can make greater acts of faith. In this manner faith plays its important part in the growth of our divine life. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN and JOHN MATTHEW8 are members of the faculty at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. DOMINIC HUGHES is a member of the Pontifical Faculty of Theology, Dominican House of Studies, Washington, D. C. 72 On Controversy WE HAVE RECEIVED certain c,r, iticisms for publishing "Thd Three Ages o~f the Interior Life, by G.'Augustine Ellard, S.3". (Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII, 297-317.) One criti-cism is that the "theological erudition" of Father Ellard's article "takes advantage of readers who lack the technical preparation neces- Sary to measure its true weight." (Cf. IX, 42~-43.) Another criti-cism, not sent for publication, is that Father Ellard's article contains controversial matter, and that a magazine like ours should keep clear of controversy. It seems advisable to explain our position. Father Ellard's article was a book review; and the work he reviewed (The Three Ages of the Interior Life, by Father R. Garri-gou- Lagrange, OIP.) is decidedly theological. It is difficult to see how a v~ork of this kind could be reviewed without using theological erudition. Moreover, The Three Ages is intended, as least partly, for just such people as our readers; hence it seems that the theological erudition used in reviewing the work would no more take advantage of readers than would the work itself. It might be added here that one of the precise purposes for founding this REVIEW was tO present sound theology without the technical accompaniments that are usu-ally found in a strictly theological journal. As for controversy, we have always tried assiduously to avoid controversial topics or at least to avoid taking sides in any theologi-cal debate. Less than a year ago, when we published "Mystical Life--Mystical Prayer," by M. Raymond, O.C.S.O., we were care-ful to prefix to the article an editorial note indicating that Father Raymond's view was only one of three legitimately defended opin-ions on the normal development of the spiritual life. We expressed no preference for any of the opinions. (Cf. VIII, 121,) No one objected to our calling attention to the controversial nature of Father Raymond's article. Why, therefore, should anyone object to Father Ellard's pointing out that certain basic questions in The Three Ages are subjects of legitimate controversy? It would be naive to imply that, in publishing Father Ellard's .article, we did not expect contrary reactions. Since the author of The Three Ages has many admirers, it was quite likely that some of 73 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Religious them would come to his defense. It is clear, then, that in publishing the book review, we had to run the risk of controversy. The only ways oi~ avoiding it would be to refuse to review the work, or to publish an insincere review, or to print a sincere review without allowing a rebuttal. None of these procedures was or is desirable. Hence, we have some controversy, and perhaps it may continue for a time. We trust that our readers will find it both interesting and profitable. In this issue we present an article by Father Dominic Hughes, O.P., in rebuttal to Father Ellard, together with a brief reply by Father Ellard and a communication defending his position. Other'expres-sions of opinion on either side will be accepted. However, lest this subject .matter consume disproportionate space in the REVIEW, it seems necessary to limit further contributions to communications. Conditions for acceptance of these communications will be found on page 96. Now a word about Father Hughes's article. In some aspects it differs from our usual editorial policy; yet it seemed better, under the circumstances, to waive insistence on policy. What he says, however, about doctrinal authority in the Church, especially the authority of Doctors of the Church in general and of St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, calls for special editorial comment. For the most part this comment will simply agree with him and emphasize the truth of what he says; in one point it will at least qualify one of his views if not express a complete difference of opinion. Father Hughes rightly observes that the highest doctrinal author-ity in this world is the teaching Church. And this truth needs emphasizing in our times, even in the case of many devout laymen. This teaching Church is composed of the Pope himself, and of the bishops of the world united with tbe Pope, whether in a general council or ~in their respective dioceses. Theologians graphically and reverently style the~e successors to the Apostles theVioum Magisterium (the living teaching body) or simply the Ecclesia Docens (the teaching Church). It is a wonderful thing, this living teaching Church; it pos-sesses not only the great truths of revelation with which Christ and the Holy Spirit endowed the Apostles but also all the wisdom of the succeeding centuries which has been used in the exploration and explanation of the original endowment (the Deposit of Faith,. as it is. called), The Doctors and other theologians have authority only in so far as they express either the doctrine of this living .Church or 74 March, 1950 ON CONTROVERSY speculations which are in conformity with that doctrine. The revelation confided to the Church is a limitless treasure; and our knowledge of the doctrine and its implications is subject to con-stant growth. In this process 9f growth through the centuries there have always been questions that were not clear, that needed further exploration and illumination. Consequently, there have been and are divergent opinions, with abIe scholars defending contrasting views, without remonstrance and even with encouragement from the Church. The interesting question thus arises: how is the theologian of today to align himself in such controversies? Thd first duty of the true theologian is to judge the reasons of the respective sides in the light of already established principles and doctrines. Finding the reasons lacking sufficient cogency to win his preference, he might then inspect the authorities holding the different views. Suppose that in a debated question such as I have just outlined, a Doctor of the Church would be the principal defendant of one opinion. Should he, by the very fact that-he is a Doctor, win the theologian's intellectual preference? I get the impression from Father Hughes's article that he would answer this question in the affirma-tive. If this impression is correct, there is room here for a difference of opinion. The title of Doctor of the Church includes an official declaration of eminence in theological learning, but not necessarily pre-eminence over all uncanonized scholars. The eminence of some of these uncanonized theologians is attested by the constant use of their works in theological schools and even by the great, confidence placed in them by the Church while they were still living. Father Hughes suggests that in the canonized Doctor there is the added con-sideration of supernatural wisdom. But this wisdom is not limited to the canonized; it accompanies grace and virtue, not canonization. And history attests that many of the uncanonized scholars were men of lofty virtue. For example, speaking for Benedict-XV, Cardinal Gasparri styled Scotus a "most holy man,"; and speaking for himself Leo XIII referred to eminent Jesuit scholars (none of whom .were then Doctors of the Church) as men of "extraordinary virtue." So much for the authority of Doctors of the Church in general. As for St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, it is unquestionable that the Church's esteem for him is unique. Canon 1366, § 2, directs that professors of philosophy and theology should treat these subjects after the method, doctrine, and principles of the Angelic Doctor, and ¯ should hold these as sacred. An examination of the many documents 75 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Reliflious referred to in the sources of this' canon shows that it is but a capsule formulation of the insistent injunctions and directives of Leo XIII, Plus X, and Benedict XV. These Popes considered him not merely as an individual but also as the representative of all the great Scho-lastics of his time because in his works the best of their teaching is most perfectly embodied. Six years after the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Plus XI reaffirmed the praise and injunctions of his predecessors in an encyclical letter (Studiorum Ducem, June 29, 1923) which is rightly called a papal commentary on canon 1366, § 2. Finally; just a few months after he became Supreme Pontiff, Plus XII, in an address to clerical students in Rome, .recalled and approved all these directives (June 24, 1939). Obviously, therefore, the Church wants professors and students of philosophy and theology to follow St. Thomas. Ye~ it is not to be a slavish following which, in the words of Benedict XV, "would clip the wings of genius with consequent injury to the deeper study of theology," (Spoken in an audience granted to the Jesuit General and his Assistants, Feb. 17, 19.15.) 'This is not the place to try to indicate precisely the legitimate limitations to the following of St. Thomas; but it may be well to show, through the words of the Popes themselves, that the~e are some limits. Speaking of the "wisdom of Aquinas," Leo XIII insisted that he did not wish to propose to our age for imitation "anything which does not duly agree with the proved findings of a later age;" or any-thing "which does not hax~e its measure of probability." (Cf. the encyclical Aeterni Patrfs, in Fontes Codicis, III, p. 149.) Benedict XV declared in a letter to the Jesuit General (Mar. 19, 1917) that the Roman Pontiffs "have invariably held that St. Thomas must be regarded as the guide and master in the study of theology and phi-losophy,, although everyone retains full freedom to argue for either side of those questions which can be and are wont to be disputed." Pius XI, having enjoined the strict observance of canon 1366, § 2, added: "But let no one require of others more than is required of all by the Church herself who is the teacher and mother of all; for in those matters in which there is division of opinion among the best authors in Catholic schools, no one is forbidden to follow that opinion which seems to him to be nearer to the truth." (AAS, XV, 324.) Finally, in the address previously referred to, Pius XII said: "At the same time we make Our own the warnings of these same Predecessors, whereby they sought to protect genuine progress in sci- 76 ON CONTROVERSY ence and lawful liberty of research. We thoroughly approve and recommend that the ancient wisdom be brought into accord, if need be, with the new discoveries of scholarship; that there be free discus-sion of points on which reputable students of the Angelic Doctor commonly argue; that fresh resources be drawn from history for the better understanding of the text of St.Thomas." (AAS, XXX; 246-47.) Some people, hazily cognizant of historical disagreements on certain profound questions, seem to think that Dominicans and Jesuits are always on opposite sides of a theological debate and that Jesuits are not followers of St. Thomas. The impression is false. And it may be informative to add here that St. Ignatius enjoined the study of the "Scholastic doctrine of St. Thomas," and that this rather general prescription of our constitutions was made very definite by our Fifth General Congregation (1594), which legislated that Jesuits must consider St. Thomas as their own special doctor. The words of Leo XIII are witness to the fidelity of Jesuits in carrying out this command. Speaking of eminent Jesuit theologians, the Pope said that "being as they were, men of extraordinary virtue and talent, and applying themselves assiduously to the works of the Angelic Doctor, with certain arguments they expounded his tenets in a manner full and excellent,, they adorned his doctrine with the rich trappings of erudition, they made many keen and practical deduc-tions therefrom for the refutation of new errors, adding besides what-ever declarations or more exact decrees had since that time been made by the Church in this same field. The fruits of their industry no one in truth can spurn without loss to himself." (Apostolic Letter Gravissirne Nos to the Jesuit General, 1892.) --GERALD KELLY, S.J. SEARCHLIGHTING OURSELVES Many shrewd observations for retreats and tridua are found in Searchlighting Ourselues, the Retreat Notes of Father Timothy Brosnahan, S.J., edited by Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. The book contains notes on the various meditations of The Spir-itual Exercises, several conferences on basic points of the spiritual life, and a number of special meditations, notably a series on the Beatitudes, for use during tridua. Jesuit Seminary and Mission Bureau, 51 East 83rd St., New York 28, N.Y. 77 Works of Made/v anit:es!: Dominic Hughes, O.P. CHARITY and solicitude for souls moved .Father Ellard (RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1949) to lay several stric-tures upon Father Garrigou-Lagrange's Three A~es of the Interior Life. That same charity now prompts a staying hand. Petulance or truculence cannot rise to defend either side in chari-table controversy. Neither party can reprove the sincere expression of an opinion any more than either can approve indefiniteness in doc-trine or ineptness in expression. Rather both must call upon charity's constant companion, wisdom, whose "abode is in the full assembly of the saints" (Ecclesiasticus 24: 16). However unqualified writers or readers may be in matters secu-larly or sacredly scientific, their judgment from wisdom will partake of that calm and certitude of those aware that "If anyone desires to do His will, he will know of the teaching whether it is from God" (,John 7:17). Even in these controversies about subsidiary doc-trines and their suitable expression something of the clarity and security of a truly wise appraisal is attainable, "for the spiritual man judges all" (I Corinthians 2 : 15). The judgment of the spiritual man is based on neither caprice nor allegiance, but solely upon wisdom. "It pertains to wisdom," --St. Thomas, the Common Doctor, expressed the common doc-trine--" to consider the highest causes through which it may judge of other things with the greatest certitude and according to which it should order other things" (Summa Tbeolo~qica, II-Ilae. q.45, a.1). Wisdom, then, has one main product and two by-products. The primary product of any habit of wisdom is a "consideration of the highest causes." In the different orders of reality and knowl-edge, various highest causes attract the attention of divers kinds of wise men. In any case, however, the object of wisdom's considera-tion is the ultimate, in words as in works. In works the absolute ultimate in no way ordered to anything further, and the measure of all, are the works of God made manifest in the works of Christ. Relatively ultimate, first and last in a particular line, and the measure of that group, are the works, for example, of a founder of a religious society, so that St. Ignatius would be the measure of the accomplish-ments as Jesuits of his followers, even of the glorious achievements 78 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST of St. Francis Xavier and St. Robert Bellarmine. In words, the absolute and unassailable ultimate is the voice of the Church and Sacred Scripture. Relative ultimates, too, are found in various writings: .those of St. Thomas for the whole of theology, those of St. Alphonsus Liguori for practice in moral problems, and those of St. 3ohn of the Cross inmatters mystical. Upon the basis of this "consideration of highest causes" wisdom has as one of its by-pr0ducts a judgment of things other than the highest cause itself "with the greatest certitude." The maximum of security in judgment is not invariable, but will change according as the highest cause is either absolutely or only relatively ultimate. In matters in which the Voice of God has not yet been heard---or may never be--the certitude attainable cannot be as unqualified as when the Church has spoken. Yet various other causes may be given a limited but appreciable certitude as they more or less cogently elimi-nate any worthy fear of contradiction. Moreover, some considera-tions within the scope of wisdom's judgment, metaphysics for example, need admit of no exceptions. Moral judgments, of which the mystical is a phase, however, can attain a certitude about human actions only "as they most often happen." "For it is the mark of the educated man to look for certitude in each class of things just so far as the nature of the subject admits" (Aristotle, I Ethics, c. 3). In this spirit, St. Augustine, who was well aware that no case was finished until Rome had spoken, expressed a wise certitude: "I do not wish my reader to be bound down to me, so I do not wish my corrector to be bound down to himself. Let not the former love me more than the Catholic faith, let not the latter love himself more than the Catholic verity . Do not be willing to amend my writings by thine own opinion or disputation, but from the divine text or by unanswerable reasons." (On the Trinity, Bk. III, Preface.) The mere possibility of an unwarranted contradiction because his every word was not inspired or even uncontested--was not enough to unsettle the mind of St. Augustine, even about what he himself had written. Certainly others reading his words so often approved by the Church can reach the "greatest certitude." Like-wise, concerning a wide variety of matters, even without a decision of the Church or a consensus of theologians, certitude can be had upon the basis of either the arguments proposed or auth6rities cited. The citing of authorities is not a matter of number but of weight. The weight of one Doctor of the Church can overbalance toward 79 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious certitude any dispute, despite the contradictions of a multitude of theological scribes. Weighing such authority is the second by-product of wisdom. From a catalog of opinions or an enumeration of members of various schools a deep appreciation of human limita-tions may be derived, but scarcely a wise judgment. Wisdom, in addition to considering the highest causes and judging other things with the greatest certitude, orders other things .acgording to the highest cause, either in any particular grouping or according to the absolute ultimate itself. It does not gather a crowd but establishes a hierarchy. Not how many authors may be found who differ from one another, but how they are arranged relative to the primary master of the subject, e.g., ~lohn of the Cross~such is the judgment of wisdom. This wise ordering of authors, moreover, avoids two extremes. Spiritual atavism is inclined to bow so low and so often before the ancestral authority of a father, either of the Church or even of a particular spiritual family, that little opportunity is afforded for examining or explaining doctrinal implications or making practical applications. The other extreme to be shunned, more a tendency than a tenet, is a mollified "modernism." Those affected by it are disposed to judge the latest as the best, the more contemporary as the, more commendable. The foundation for avoiding both extremes, too much of the past, too much of the.present, and of formulating a truly wise judgment is an ordering, not according to.personal prefer-ences but according to principles. The principles of wise judgment are not personal but the peren-nial preferences and special approbation of the Church. When the Popes have praised and so often used particular authorities, e.g., St. Augustine or St. Thomas, as the highest, though not the exclusive causes for engendering certitude in the judgments of the faithful, there is little fear of worthy contradiction in following their example. In that case, other theological or spiritual writers, as they more or less approach and approximate the doctrines of these highest causes of the greatest possible certitude will take their place in the estimate and esteem of wisdom. The impressiveneses of such considerations as numbers, either of authors or copies of their works sold, avail-ability in English, or other such shavings of certitude is, for wisdom, negligible compared to the arguments or authority of but a single Doctor of the Church. These teachers of the "mind of Christ" offer principles at once profound and practical. The highest in heaven always seem the most down-to-earth. None realized more than they how each soul 80 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST must budget its talents, using a few well-coined principles through- Out its spiritual life to make both ends meet---in God. Prodigality in principles and in words, they were sure, would contribute to neither practicality nor profundity. With but little, and all of that Christ's, they sought and saw the deep things of God and the deep things of each soul on its way towards Him. The profundity and practicality of other spiritual writers can be wisely appraised only as it more or less approaches what is found in the Doctors both in their wisdom by infusion and their Wisdom by 'industry. Together in a single act these fountainheads of truth converged to give the saintly doctors their certitude. In others--so often what is united in superiors is divided in inferiors--an actual judgment is the result of either one or tlSe other, either of wisdom by infusion or of wisdom by industry. Wisdom by infusion, the science of the saints, as a Gift of the Holy Ghost judgeswith certainty and orderliness, not through metaphysical discourse, but by a loving accord with its object--"by tasting and seeing that the Lord is sweet." Wisdom by industry, the science of theology, on the other hand, secure though it is in the principles of faith, suffers the labors and infirmities of all human effort. Yet,. at times, wisdom by infusion must appeal to wisdom by industry to corroborate its expressions and to co-ordinate its findings; the mystics and spiritual writers must submit divine truth to the scribes in theology for a test in human terms. Wisdom's test, in human terms, concerning the charitable contro-versy over the divergent views of Father Garrigou-La~range and Father Ellard involves two major considerations: doctrine and method. The points of doctrinal divergence most worthy of mention con-cern the Gifts of the Holy Ghost: contemplation: its place and kinds; and the unity of the interior life. The methodological differences arise either positively from the stress or emphasis of one doctrine more than another, or negatively through the omission of detail by some considered as integral to any spiritual treatise. WISDOM IN WORDS: DOCTRINE The points controverted concerning the Gifts of the Holy Ghost are their necessity, nature, function, and number. " Concerning each of these points separately, and cumulatively, too, Father Ellard brings forth his hobgoblin--uncertainty. Upo'n how little might be said with certainty there can be found only the sole small voice of scholarly research, Father DeBlic, who 81 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or R'eligious minimizes w.hat even Father De Guibert, S.J., thought .an irredu-cible denominator. Many Dominican theologians, are cited as recog-nizing a.controversy upon the matter, but the conclusions of each do not seem worthy of mention by Father Ellard. If thi~. process were pushed to its principle, it would imply that as soon as a point is questioned it immediately becomes questionable, and as soon as doubted, doubtful. Such can. scarcely be a moving principle to wis-dom which has ordered authorities according .to the highest among them and thus attained the "greatest certitude." To corroborate the general judgment of wisdom, however, each subordinate point which has come under scrutiny may well be examined. The necessity of the Gifts, as explained by St. Thomas, seems to have suffered the least from the minimizing tendencies of later and lesser theologians. None of the mystics, moreover, have found them a luxury. They are vital to the life of divine grace; "the just man," Leo XIII testified in his Encyclical Dioinum illud munus (May 9, 1897), "has need of these seven gifts." Because of the overwhelming testimony in tradition to the intimate association of the state of grace and presence of the Gifts, even the doughtiest opponent of Thomistic doctrine on the Gifts must treat the denial of this point as negligible. The nature of the Gifts, however, is quite another matter. "They make us docile to the Holy Ghost," according to a formula suffi-ciently broad to embrace all'variants, but not to preclude precisions. While all would agree that docility to the Holy Ghost is of the essence of the Gifts, as Father Ellard triumphantly pointed out to drive in the wedge of uncertainty, "not all" would ,concur with St. Thomas in finding them distinct habits in the soul. The words of Sacred Scripture itself give warrant for St. Thomas's doctrine, inasmuch as they imply a unique divine influx. This,doctrine of St. Thomas cannot lightly be set aside. His reason cannot be dis-proved, his authority no one can gainsay. Although obviously not of Faith, his doctrine has an approbation by the Church incompar-ably above any i~f those proposed by Father Ellard as competitors for our certain allegiance. Ordinary permission to teach or publish thisis only a faint resemblance to the abundant approval given to Doctors of the Church. In them, because of their sanctity and the special scrutiny of their works, the Church recognizes unique wit-nesses and guardians of her patrimony, the doctrine of Christ. Over and above the acclamations usually given to a Doctor, St. Thomas has received frequent and unique marks of esteem from the Church. Pope Pius V referred to him as "the most certain rule of Christian 82 March, 1950 X~rORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST doctrine," and Pope Clement VIII was sure that he could be "fol-lowed without any danger of error." These" and many other state-ments by successive Popes are not private hyperbole but public declarations, normative if not mandatory in Faith. Against this weight of certitude from St. Thomas, Father Ellard proposes (p. 305) a theologian described, in a citation from clerical students, as the."Subtle Doctor." Of the su.btlet~r of'Scotus there is no doubt; but of the tebm "Doctor" as applied to him there is con-siderable reason for hesitance. No more of a' Doctor of the Church than so many others who have taught in her schools throughout the centuries, Scotus has neithe~ the approval of his sanctity nor of his doctrine that is required of a Doctor. His opinion is, therefore, of an entirely other brder in certitude from that of St. Thomas. It is on a plane "with that of Suarez, who could not concur with St. Thomas in the matter of grace but could affirm against Scotus that he appreciated the importance of distinguishing between the virtues and the Gifts. The allegiance, moreover, of St. Francis de Sales to the doctrine of Scotus cannot be alleged'with certitude. The Gifts are, in the words cited by Father Ellard' (p. 306), "the virtues, properties and qualities of charity." (Cf. The Looe or: God, XI, 15.) "Speaking precisely," as St. Francis assured us he was doing, all these entities are distinct from the essence, although perhaps inseparable from it. In like manner, although the Gifts and charity are always together, they do not merge into one habit, otherwise the same might be said of St. Francis de Sales' doctrine of the relation of charity and the other infused virtues. Charity would not then be the "gift of gifts" (XI, 19), but the one gift, n6t the essence or bond of perfection, but the whole of the spiritual organism. There is nothing suffi-ciently explicit in the words of St. Francis de Sales to indicate an approval of the Scotistic opinion or the disapproval of the doctrine of St. Thomas. Even if a rivalry were established between these two Doctors of the Church, inasmuch as the matter is one of theological principles, the preponderance of authority would easily go to St. Thomas. To St. Thomas, then, and not to Father Garrigou-Lagrange, wisdom looks for its "highest cause" according to which it might order other opinions and thus attain the "greatest certitude" possible concerning the nature" of the Gifts. Obviously, Pohle-Preuss, Forget; Van der Meersch, and legions of other writers who subscribe to what is least as what is safest, are far from disturbing the certitude of 'a 83 DOMINIC HUGHES Reoiew for Religious soul in which wisdom dwells. The judgment of wisdom appre-ciates the authority and approves the arguments, the sublimity and certainty, of the doctrine on the Gifts proposed without equivoca-tion by St. Thomas. Allegedly based upon St. Thomas and employing his authority is the more recent confection of two different modes of the Gifts in life. The gesture with which Father Ellard includes Cardinal Billot among Thomists is so expansive that it would embrace all who, for one point or another, approximate the teaching of the Angelic Doc-tor, whose method, doctrine, and principles are to be held by all teachers as sacred according to the mandate of the Church (Code of Canon Law, canon 1366, § 2). Moreover, the contemporary pro-ponent of the theory qf two modes of the Gifts in this life, one ordi-nary, the other extraordinary, was immediately and unhesitatingly denounced as having mistaken and misquoted St. Thomas by Fathers R. Dalbiez (l~tudes Carm$litaines, April 1933, pp. 250ff.) and P. P~rinelle (Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques, No~ember 1932, p. 692), as well as by Father Garrigou-Lagrange (La Vie spirituelle, November 1932, suppl, pp. [ 77 ] if). Such total misinterpretation of St. Thomas cannot be a "form of modern Thomistic theory on the Gifts," as Father Ellard would have it (p. 310), but rather a warning against making St. Thomas a wit-ness to any elaboration prejudicial to his principles. Certain, partly because it is "seamless," Thomistic doctrine preserves its purity and integrity by faithful adherence to the "method, doctrine, and prin-ciples" in the text of St.' Thomas, particularly in the question of the nature of the Gifts. The number of the Gifts is likewise clearly and authoritatively determined in the text of St. Thomas. As always, he is in full accord with the texts of Sacred Scripture which the Church and the best exegetes c~ansider most reliable, as well as the sense of the Church in the hymn Veni, Sancte Spiritus, and the Catechism of the Coun-cil of Trent. St. Augustine is of the same mind (cf. On Christian Doctrine, II, 7), and St. Francis de Sales refers to the "seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost" (The Love of God, XI, 19) in a text otherwise considered probative by Father Ellard (p. 306). To introduce and perhaps induce a doubt in the traditional enumerhtion as taxative or "limitative," Father Ellard cites (p. 309) an author who would amplify the number as by "an infinite variety of shades." This plethora, seven is a "plenitude," the same author affirms is the intention of the sacred authors, "as we know." How we are to know, 84 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST however, is not indicated. Either a private revelation or some extremely adroit exegesis would be necessary to belie the authority of Doctors of the Church, who, so close to the primary author of Sacred Scripture--the Holy Ghost--have considered the Gifts as numeri-cally determined. Determination by the Doctors on one point may leave still another undetermined with exactly the same cogency and certitude. St. Thomas himself, having given, on the authority of another, a general schema of the functions of the various gifts, found it neces-sary to reconsider one of its aspects. "Who will assure us that the . last is perfect?" Father EIIard quotes (p. 309) a scholar who has studied the point. Who, on the other hand, will be temerarious enough to.insist that the last is imperfect or.less perfec~ than any other proposed? A distinction and argument which, after long thought, had clarity and cogency for St. Thomas has the added note of authority for those who wisely appraise both the change and the conclusion. In making his schema, St. Thomas realized he was establishing an appropriate parallel, an educative device, an argu-. ment of convenience. Neither he nor St. Augustine--nor Father Garrigou-Lagrange--attributes the same probative force to a schema as to a syllogism. Indeed, The Three Ages evidences an admirable conformity to the doctrine of St. Thomas, and his classical commen-tator, John of St. Thomas, in the substance and schema for the functioning of the various Gifts. The final point concerning what Father Ellard chooses rather ungraciously to call "the present-day Thomistic hypothesis" of the Gifts is their association with the doctrine that some graces are intrinsically efficacious. A larger issue is involved here than the .mat-ter of the Gifts and it should not be treated by innuendo. If at this juncture "many people pause," as Father Ellard expects (p. 310), because the common pre-Reformation doctrine on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the Gifts are "indissolubly bound" in doctrinal integrity, will it be to neglect an assured and consistent teaching for one that is hopelessly entangled in affirmations, denials, and com-promises? Those who demur at the doctrine of grace as expounded by St. Thomas cannot fail to deny his teaching on the Gifts. Only a compromise could enable Suarez to affirm the doctrine of St. Thomas on the nature of the Gifts and deny his doctrine on grace. Such compromises are always uncertain, as the doctrinally internecine con-flict among Molinists and Congruists amply testifies. Somewhat as a summary of his consideration of the .Gifts, 85 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious Father. Ellard implies (p. 311) that because leading Thomists are aware of controversies they themselves are subject to uncertainty. Nothing could be further from the truth, unless that Catholics by their cognizance of heresy diminish their faith. Moreover, because the teaching of The Three Ages is based upon what "the great majority of theologians hold with St.Thomas," a wise judgment would con-cede Father Ellard but poor pleasure in having ferreted out an admission that "'not all [italics his] theologians agree on this par-ticular fundamental point." Upon such minimal evidence and defensive techniques only an artificial uncertainty and imprudent reservation or suspension of judgment can be built. Father Ellard-emphasizes complexity ;ind confusion, Father Garrigou-Lagfange the "certitude of the great directive principles that illuminate all spirituality (cf. p. 311)." In the matter of the Gifts, their neces-sity, nature, number, and fufiction, .not St. Thomas' and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's unassailable doctrine, but Father Ellard's unre-solved doubts lead to "'disillusionment and discouragement" which all are so solicitous to avoid. Another complex question in need of "great directive principles" is that of contemplation. Concerning the exposition of contempla-tion in The Three Ages, Father Ellard seems to find two points of difficulty: the presence of acquired contemplation; the place of the infused. With regard to acquired contemplation, Father Ellard finds reason for criticism in the fact that Father Garrigou-.Lagrange gives it "hardly any place" in his s'ynthesis of the entire interior life,, while the Carmelite Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen devoted "half his work, St. dohn of the Cross" to justifying its place in Carmelite theology. The same Carmelite, however, gives as his wise and orderly conclusion (pp. 199-200) that "the central thesis of the Thomistic spiritual synthesis is supported by the doctrine of actlx;e contemplation." Even if Father Ellard, in the Three Ages, would replace "hardly" with "half" to suit his preferences, the wise ordering of part to whole in both Carmelite and Dominican is obvious. Moreover, "St. Theresa never speaks of any other than infused contemplation.,"~ Father Gabriel states categorically (p. 111), while he and others can find only equivalents of the term in St. John of the Cross. Both the problem of terminology and the point of doc-trine concerning the "beginning of contemplation" (Dark Night, I, 9) and the "acquired prayer of recollection" receive ample and appropriate treatment in the chapter on "Contemplative Prayer" in The Three Ages. More would.make a part into a polemic. 86 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST If others disagree with Father Garrigou-Lagrange in this matter it should not be surprising. The harmony he has indicated between St. Thomas and St. John of the Cross is well-founded in the best Carmelite and Dominican authorities. If a dissident attitude arises from the outside and even seeps within, the foundations, of accord in the Theresian and Thomistic teachings are not tragically undermined. Without mentioning either the Common or the Mystical Doctor, Father Ellard has assembled a variety of authorities (p. 303) to indicate a confusion on the place of infused contemplation. The teachings of Msgr. Saudreau, Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval-- all but the last two differing from one another--are arrayed against that of The Three Ages. No mention is made, however, of which of all in the field more closely conforms to the doctrine of the Doctor of Contemplation, St. John of the Cross. Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval are not even close. Msgr. Saudreau confines contempla-tion to the unitive way. With "a great difference indeed" (p. 303) Father Garrigou-Lagrange conforms exactly to the doctrine of St. John by placing infused contemplation in both the unitive way and--to use St. John's own words--"the way of proficients, which is also called the illuminative way, or the way of infused contempla-tion" (Dark Night, I, 14). This explicit testimony of the "highest cause" in matters of contemplation and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's strict conformity to it, leaves but one judgment ~or wisdom-- "greatest certitude" for the doctrine on the place of infused con-templa. tion in The Three Ages. Moreover, when it is a question of the relationship between the Gifts and contemplation, Father Ellard's strictures are utterly con-fused. His use as an argument from omission of inappropriate texts from St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus "who would have advocated for all a form of mental prayer that is full of inspirations from the Holy Spirit" is pitiably feeble. Fantastic, nothing less, is his assertion that "although in their process nothing has been said about infused contemplation," persons have been canonized, and hence "we can safely conclude" from no mention, let alone non-manifestation, to the non-existence of interior intellectual movements of the Holy Ghost in their souls. Father Garrigou-Lagrange clearly indicates (I, 81) saints and situations in which the activity of the intellectual Gifts are "diffuse." In them the practical Gifts of coun-sel, fortitude, or fear are more apparent, yet all the gifts will be "highly developed" and wisdom will [egulate all. Since the highest of mystical experiences is within the scope of a moral consideration, 87 DOMINIC HUGHES Ret~ieto for Religious judgments must be wisely formed" of them "as they most often hap-pen." Exceptions corroborate, not corrupt, certitude in morals, "for the man educated to expect them." Neither the fact that "various exceptions" are admitted to the doctrine of the predominance of infused contemplation, nor its "being so closely associated with a questionable theory of the gifts (p. 312)" is ground for asserting that the Theresian-Thomistic position in the Three Ages "suffers" a loss of certitude. Only those who are con-stantly looking for some "phenomenon in consciousness" which is "humanly noticeable" (p. 31'~) complain of dangers of disillusion-ment because the truth of mystical experience did not fit into their preconceived patterns. From the doctrines on the Gifts and contemplation flows the final point of difficulty: the normality of infused contemplation or the unity of the interior life. To Father Ellard's wonderment, The Three Ages "embodies no great new discovery nor corrects any old error" (p. 311). His observation is remarkably exact. The discovery is old, the error is new. Until the seventeenth century no one lost sight of the unity of the interior life and no arbitrary and artificial cleavage between ascetical and mystical theology was introduced. With the publica-tion of Scaramelli's Ascetical Directory an.d Mystical Director~l, how-ever the division and its tragic consequences were popularized. Since things ascetical were conceived as ordinary and the mystical, i.e., infused contemplation, as extraordinary, humility became the motive for the humdrum, and many souls apt for contemplation were forced to excruciating torments on the treadmill of discursive meditation. This new error bade fair to destroy an old discovery. To Father Garrigou-Lagtange is due sincere tribute as one of the vanguard leading souls to an appreciation of the traditional teaching on the unity of the interior life, its contemplative graces and gifts. Those only need fear disillusionment or discouragement in his leadership whose limited ideals or faint heart stultify their wisdom. WISDOM AT WORK: METHOD Wisdom governs not only the principles of the interior life but their presentation. In The Three Ages, Father EIlatd finds its doc-trinal stress and seeming omissions particularly distressing. Father Garrigou-Lagrange's stress upon the Gifts of the Holy Ghost is indeed a strain for Father Ellard. For him, "The whole vast construction presented in these two large volumes stands or fails with the special doctrine on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit which 88 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST forms as it were the supporting framework for it" (p. 305). Yet Father Ellard himself declared (p. 297) that "degrees of virtues, the functions of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, various purifications, arid the grades of prayer are assigned to each of the three ages." Perhaps the mere presence of the Gifts gives them too much prominence for Father Ellard. On~ of his authorities (p. 313), and a confrere, Father Poulain, apparently not a theologian, however proficient a psychologist, in his extensive work, The Graces of Interior Prayer, somehow manages to avoid any treatment of the Gifts. To anyone acquainted with their importance in traditional spiritual writers, the exposition of The Three Ages will seem the mere summary it was intended to be (I, 66). On the other hand, the omissi~)ns Father Ellard finds so lamen-table are more nominal than real. If the part;.cular examination deals with the predominant fault, a chapter on that subject should satisfy Father Ellard's justification of it as "one of the major tech-nique. s in modern Catholic asceticism." When "for the general examination no precise method is suggested," it need not be a strange omission.Once the "Sins to be Avoided" are mentioned, as Father Garrigou-Lagrange does in a chapter by that name (I, 299), the remainder is left to the individual conscience', even in the Spiritual Exercises, since of its five acts in this matter two are a preface, two an epilogue of prayers. Again in the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude. As a mat-ter of fact, the opposite is true. The more particularized is the treat-ment, the more it is subject to doubt. The devious details of these devices for praying, whose security for some is largely in their famili-arity, are better consciously omitted by anyone who writes with the "certitude of the great directive principles of all spirituality" (cf. p. 311). The method of The Three Ages, moreover, cannot rather "stress theory than practice" (p. 302) if its principal excellence is "its inspiratio:lal value," and if "a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled" (p. 301). It can scarcely be labeled as more given to "metaphysics than psychology" (p. 302) when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand dogmas of Christianity, their "infinite elevation," their implications for our "affective and practical lives" (p. 301). WORDS AT WORK FOR THE WISE For the wise, who are so either by industry in theology or by 89 DOMINIC HUGHES infusion .with God's love, a word of conclusion is sufficient. A wise word may not have rhetorical flair, but it cannot be faltering or fal-lacious. As an expression of the judgment of the "highest causes" with the "greatest certitude" and other things in an orderly manner, it is not an assembly of facts, but an appraisal of values. The relative values of both content and method between what Father Garrigou-Lagrange and Father Ellard offer for its appraisal leave wisdom no doubt whatever. In points of doctrine Father Ellard seems to be without the solid foundation of a man whos~ theological industry has made him wise. Despite his erudition-- sometimes amid the most trivial sources-~-his analysis lacks pro-fundity. Its practicality, too, since it fails in its calculated effect, is open to question. In the face" of an artificially imposed order, Father Ellard's thoughts ramble and lose themselves in details. When his conclusions are declarative, they waver over a "whatever" (p. 314) or a "whether or not" (p. 316), and when they are an interrogative they are most uncertain. His precision in labelling the doctrines of others he suddenly loses when he lets "Catholic" and "Church" slip into sentences containing ideas he favors (p. 302). All of this gives his article the appearance of a somewhat gauche polemic rather than of a sincere and solicitous appraisal. On the other hand, the mag-nificent proportions of The Three Ages are not often met with in contemporary spiritual writing. Because it presents so well the "great dogmas of Christianity" as well as "their implications for our affective and practical lives," each reader feels his "heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled for these great truths" (p. 301). Wisdom's final word concerning the providential purpose of this and other discordant notes in the harmony of the teachings in the Church on the interior life is after the Model of Wisdom Him-self. When the Apostles saw the man born blind, they balanced-- unknowingl~, perhaps--one rabbinical opinion against another: "this man or his parents?" They were forced to suspend judgment, because seeing only alternatives and not an order to a Highest Cause, they remained uncertain. When they appealed to Christ, He gave them an answer many rabbis would not have considered scientific or satisfying "in terms of human experience."" Yet it was sublime and secure. Wisdom Himself replied to the Apostles, and reassures all in the present instance: supernatural security and salvation are accom-plished through suffering and the triumph of wisdom--"because the works of God were to be made manifest . " (John 9:3). 90 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY In his inspiring introductory remarks on wisdom Father Hughes proposes a restricted, relative, and special sense of "certain." " If'we accept that, th~n really there hardly seems to be any necessity of my saying more. He' has virtually conceded the great cardinal point of my whole criticism, namely, that Father Garrigou-Lagrange's doc-trine on the gifts and the corresponding thesis on infused ~ontempla-tion insofar.as this depends on that doctrine, are not, in the plain and ordinary sense of the term, certain. Certaint~ , in this sense, espe-cially when predicated of a doctrine that is theological and specu-lative, is opposed not only to probability, bfit even to greater prob-ablity. Similarly, if the langu.age of The Three Ages is to be under-stood as expressing doctrine t~at is certain only in a limited and relative sense, I. was deceived, and my labor was in vain. Perhaps also some other readers will be misled too. It seems sufficient, therefore, to notice 'very briefly only what in Father Hughes's reply is most relevant to my four principal criti-cisms, and not to say more about certain matters in which he' has mistaken my meaning. Nor shall I advert further to several expres-. sions suggestive of what I would disclaim. Those four contentions were: "'The Three Ages is theoretical rather 'than practical; it is one-sided and narrow; an essential part of it, namely, its doctrine of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, is uncertain; and its main thesis is not after all really so significant" (p. 302). I shall follow the order in which Father Hughes deals with them. First, the gifts. As a simple and practical way of ending this ¯ particular argument, I will give to Father Hughes, if he wishes, a list of all the leading theologians of the twentieth century with their works and the appropriate references to what they teach on the giftsl Then he can see at once in black and white whether Catholic theo-logians agree in proposing as certain, in the usual sense, any such elaborate theory of them as that in The Three Ages. These theo-logians will embody, in varying degrees and ways of course, the present mind of the Church; they will be quite conversant with the altogether unique authority of St. Thomas, and they will be aware also of whatever else is pertinent. In [hem, considered adequately and properly, not merely arithmetically, will be found accumulated Catholic theological wisdom in its most mature and authoritative form. When the theologians, who are the most competent to judge in a question of this kind, are as greatly divided and as uncertain as 91 FATHER ELLARD'8 REPLY Review for Religious they actually are, on what evidence could particular persons come to certain knowledge in the matter? Possibly they can; but indeed it seems most unlikely. When the authorities disagree or "are not posi-tive, it would seem wise for individual persons to suspend judgment. If, as Father Hughes seems to agree, the two Thomistic doctrines on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the gifts stand or fall together, then most emphatically are theologians divided. As for the Doctors' of the. Church, the Augustinians claimed St. Augustine for their view on grace; and both Dominicans and Jesuits appealed to St. Augustine and St. Thomas. "Among the more modern Doctors, St. Alphonsus de' Liguori is cited for a modified version of the Augustinian theory; and St. Robert Bellarmine for the Jesuits. According to Von Pastor, St. Francis de Sales declared, in a memo-randum written for Pope Paul V, "that on the whole he shared the view of the Jesuits; and he added that he had made an exhaustive study of the subject, and that he saw considerable difficulties in either opinion, He did not think the time had come for deciding a question on which so many able scholars were unable to agree." (History oF the Popes, XXV, 240.) These facts concerning the controversy on grace are given, not with any intention of arguing such a matter in these pages, but simply to show that, if Father Garrigou-Lagrange's teaching on the gifts is logically involved in this highly disputed sub-ject, surely it cannot be called certain. Father Hughes writes: "Many Dominican theologians are cited as recognizing a controversy upon the matter [of the gifts], but the conclusions of each do not seem worthyof mention by Father Ellard" (p. 82). In the writings referred to I have not noticed any con-clusions contradictory either to the statements quoted from them or to the proposition in substantiation of which the citations were made. If Father Hughes should point out any such conclusion, I shall be glad to acknowledge it. Of course the same five theologians can be quoted in favor of the Thomistic theory of the gifts, and two of them for the certainty of it, for example, Gardeil in th~ Dictionnaire de Theolo~Tie, IV-2, 1776, 1777, and Garrigou-Lagrange himself, in PerFection Chretienne et Contemplation, II, [88-91]; neverthe-less, they witness the fact of disagreement among theologians and admit that others do not share their own view. Secondly, I said of The Three Aoes that it is one-sided and nar-row. Father Hughes replies that it is in accord, if not with lesser lights, at least with St. John of the Cross, the great and ultimate 92 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY (relative) norm in this matter. But the same agreement is claimed by other authors also, among them tw6 Carmelite spokesmen. In other words, there is more than one interpretation of St. John among orthodox Catholics. ."But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has the right one." Perhaps he has; but we might be better, convinced if he would give us a chance to judge for ourselves. Could he not at least give us fair notice of dissenting opinions?. A fresh sample of div.ergenc~ is furnished by Father Gabriel of St. Mar.y Magdalen in his new book, St. Teresa o~: desus. Although he writes, "'For all that, it can be shown in fact that this teaching of the Teresian school is not irreconcilable with the modern Thomist synthesis of the spiritual life" (p. 44), yet repeatedly throughout - the book he contradicts Father Garrigou-Lagrange on the necessity of infused contemplation. The first point in my criticism reads: "'Tile Three Ages is theo-retical rather than practical." Of all, this was the least important, especially as instruction and inspiration are also in their own way most practical. Father Hughes objects: "The method of The Three Ages cannot rather 'stress theory than practice' if its principal excel-lence is 'its inspirational value,' and if 'a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled.' " Why not? In this respect the work resembles treatises on dogmatic theology which are preoccu-pied with doctrine rather than practice and which can at least be bigh.~y inspiring. Again my critic writes: The book "can scarcely be labeled as more given to 'metaphysics than psychology' when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand" dogmas of Christianity, their 'infinite elevation,' their implications for our 'affective and practical lives.' " The answer is. simple. When a book contains dogmatic, metaphysical, and psychological elements, why cannot it accentuate them in just that order? As a matter of fact, The Three Ages does. I cannot imagine how Father Hughes can say: "In the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude." My final contention was that the main thesis of The Three A~Tes, namely, that infused contemplation comes within the normal devel-opment of the interior life, is not after all very significant. It would be pregnant with meaning and significance if according to the mind of its author it were intended to im'ply that mystical contemplation in the full and obvious sense as described by St. Teresa in The 93 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY Review/or Religious Interior Castle is normally to be expected. St. Teresa's terminology is used and one anticipates sbmething very wonderful. But then one finds out that only "what is essential" is promised us, and that seems much less indeed. Such language is surely apt to deceive the less wary. On this point, the climax of everything, Father Hughes has sur-prisingly little. I was careful not to deny the thesis of the nor-mality of mystical contemplation, or the unity of the interior life, or even to call them in question, except insofar as the thesis is pre-sented as a corollary from the theory of the gifts. Of course I am not suggesting that the tiniest bit of infused con-templation is not a most precious grace. It is, by all means. Rather, the question is whether the mysticism which Father Garrigou- Lagra~nge holds out in prospect for us is the same as the substantive sublime graces depicted in St. Teresa's Mansions and in St. 3ohn's Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame. It seems highly fitting that I should add a word on two personal references that some readers will resent. I used a quotation in which Scotus was called '~the Subtle Doctor." There appears to be no reason for the depreciatory language which my critic uses. Scotus was one of the most influential of all Scholastic philosophers and theologians; for centuries innumerable times he has been referred to as "the Subtle Doctor" in more or less the same way that St. Thomas is termed "the Angelic Doctor." There was no suggestion at all that he is a Doctor of the Church; yet he is great enough to have been the theologian to whom above all others under the providence of God the Church owes the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Likewise it seems inexplicable that Poulain, the author of The Graces of Interior Prayer, A Treatise on Mystical Theology, should be referred to with these words: "apparently not a theologian, how-ever proficient a psychologist" (p. 89). True, Poulain was not a dogmatic theologian, and his design in writing on mystical the-ology was different from that of Father Garrigou-Lagrange, but his work is in certain respects, especially for an account of the facts of mysticism and for practical help in direction, of first-class worth and thus far unsurpassed. To conclude: if I am right in taking Father Hughes to mean that the doctrine of the gifts is to be considered certain only in a relative and limited sense, and not with the obvious and proper force of that term, then on the'chief point we are in agreement. If not, I would 94 March, 19 5 0 COMMUNICATIONS say to readers who have followed this criticism 'and countercriticism, especially if they have actually read The Three Ages, andpr.eferably against the background of Saints Teresa and 3ohn of the Cross: "I speak to men of reflection; judge for yourselves of what I say" (I Cor. 10:lS).--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. ommun{caldons Reverend Fathers: A few years ago in an issue of Emmanuel the reviewer of one of the books of Father Garrigou-Lagrange expressed his doubt of the truth of the characteristic doctrines of that eminent theologian, at the same time stating his hope that a more thorough criticism would be made in a lengthier review. That same doubt and hope have been felt by many who read Christian Perfection and Contemplation and The Three Ages of the Interior Life. In those works the views of the author on some points of dogmatic and of mystical theology were stated in such a way that the reader if not versed in these matters would conclude that these particular views are not seriously disputed by competent Catholic theologians. But they are disputed, and to bring out this fact, as Father Ellard has done in his review of The Three Ages of the Interior Life in your November, 1949, issue, is to render a real service to the reader of these valuable spiritual books. The truth that some of Father (3arrigou-Lagrange's theories are disputed, and are not part of Cath-olic doctrine nor the unanimous opinions of theologians will not hurt anyone. Veritas vos liberabit. In emphasizing the disputed character of .these opinions of the gifted.writer, it is not intended in any way, I am sure, to imply that he has deliberately misled his readers. But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has led the majo.r portion of his life in the midst of skilled theo-logians. He naturally and unconsciously keeps them in mind as he writes. Yet what he writes is being read by many who are n~;t versed in even the fundamentals of theology and who consequently may easily be misle.d by his statement, of his positions. For the general public a clearer statement of what is general Catholic doctrine and what. is not, is certainly desirable. May I add a personal note? After some experience in directing 95 SUMMER SESSIONS ReVietO [or Religi,,os souls who have undoubtedly received the gift of infused contempla-tion, I find it difficult.to believe that Father Garrigou-Lagrange has any real concept, of infused contemplation at all. Everything he writes leads me to believe that he is really thinking and speaking of that prayer which is variously called "acquired contemplation," "the prayer of ~implicity," etc. There is an essential distinction between this simplification of discursive prayer and infused contemplation; and that distinction, I believe, cannot be understood merely from ¯ reading the works of mystical writers or theologians. I thoroughly agree with the Benedictine' who said 'that "the conception that St. John of the Cross had of mysticism and contemplation entirely escaped" the gifted author of Tile Three Ages. No harm can come from giving testimony to the inexactitude of Father Garrigou-Lagrange's distinction between Catholic doctrine and the theories of certain theologians; nor to the incorrectness of his understanding of the fundamental nature of infused contempla-tion.-- A SECULAR PRIEST. [EDITORS' NOTE: Further communications concerning Father Ellard's appraisal.of The Three Ages will be acgepted. These communications should be kept as brief as the subject-matter permits. If at all possible, they should be neatly typed, double-spaced, with generous margin. The sender should sign his name; and the name will be printed unless the content is of a personal nature.] SUMMER SESSION The Plus X School of Liturgical Music, founded by the late Mother Georgia Stevens, will conduct its Thirty-Fourth Summer Session: June 29-Augtist 10. Registration is open to men and women, whether as students matriculated for the B.A. or B.Mus., degrees, or as non-matriculated students; resident and non-resident. Courses will be offered in Gregorian Chant, Gregorian Accompaniment, Con-ducting, Polyphony, Liturgical Singing, Vocal Production, History of Music, Keyboard Harmony,. Music Education, Counterpoint, .etc. Members of the Staff have been long trained in the traditions of Solesmes and have national and international pedagogical experience and recognition. Private lessons in organ, piano, and singing may be procured. Membership is held by the School in the National Association of Schools of Music and it enjoys the official approval of the most eminent music organizations. According to a long-established custom there will be lectures by prominent musicologists and the usual s, eries of weekly concerts. Students will be given the opportunity of~active particip.ation in the Liturgy by the congrega- 96 March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS tional singing of Holy Mass, Vespers, Compline, and Benediction. The Very Reverend Monsignor Frederic Teller, D.D., Ph.D.,C.G.M. will teach some courses. The Ve.ry Reverend Monsignor Martin B. Hellriegel, of the Church of the Holy Cross, St. Louis, Mo., and the Reverend 3ohn 3. Dougherty, S.T.L.,S.S.D. of the Immaculate Con-ception Seminary, D~rlington, N. 3, will give daily lectures on the Liturgy throughout the Session. For further information write to: Mother Aileen Cohalan, Director, Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, New York 27, New York. Book Reviews THE MOTHER OF THE SAVIOR AND OUR INTERIOR LIFE. By Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 338. B. Herder Book C;o., St. Lou~s, M~ssourL $4.00. The theological and d~votional literature about the Blessed Virgin is so extensive that .a new synthesis by a capable author is highly welcome: Father Garrigou-Eagrange published such a syn-thesis in 1941 (reprinted in 1948). The present translation from thd French makes his book available for the la.rge number of readers who have come to value his works in English versions. The book is divided into two parts. The first part, on "The Divine Maternity and the Plenitude of Grace," is doctrinal. It aims at imparting knowledge about Our Lady and her unique position, in subordination to her divine Son, at the very summit of creation and the supernatural order. The pre-eminence of the divine mater-nity, which dominates all Mariology as the source and end of all Mary's great gifts, is very clearly brought out. Here and there a line of reasoning is pursued that is not very convincing: but strictly theo-logical procedures are hardly to be expected in a work that is more devotional in spirit than scientific. The second part, on "Mary, Mother of all Men: Her Universal Mediation and our Interior Life," demonstrates Mary's activity in the plan of redemption and the important causality she exercises in our salvation and sanctification. In view of the character of the volume, the author has wisely refrained from entering into the contemporary debate among theo-logians on the precise meaning and function of Mary as co-redemp- 97 BOOK R~VlEWS Review [or Religious trix, contenting himself with general expressions that should prove acceptable to all parties in the controversy. The main source for the theological presentation is Merkelbach's well-known Mariologia. But the Fathers, the great Scholastics and their later successors, spiritual writers, orators, and Popes are called upon to yield up their treasures. Many gems have been contributed by Saints Ambrose, Sophronius, Andrew of Crete, Ephrem, and Peter Damien. Saints Bernard, Albert the Great, Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Alphonsus, Grignon de Montfort, and Francis de Sales have all offered their riches. Suarez, Terrien, Dublanchy, le Bachelet, and Hugon have generously thrown open their books. And these great names represent but a sampling of the numerous sources consulted and utilized. The encyclicals of Popes Leo XIII, Pius X, Benedict XV, and Plus XI manifest the mind of the Church on recent Mariological doctrine. The Polish Dominican, Justin of Mi~chow, provides the inspiration for one of the finest chapters in the book, "Special Aspects of Mary's Queenship." The article on the Rosary sheds fresh light on that welt-loved devotion, and sug-gests a way of practicing it that will be profitable to all Catholics. The translator has done his part admirably. Comparison with the French edition shows how faithful Father Kelly has been to the orig!nal. If we did not know that the English edition is a transla-tion, we could hardly guess that fact from reading the book. And that is the supreme criterion of the translator's success. CYRIL VOLLERT, S.J. IGNATIAN METHODS OF PRAYER. By Alexandre Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xl ~ 203. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1949. $3.00. The aim of this book is very clearly stated by the author when he tells us that he set out to discover "what exactly did St. Ignatius want to say, and what did he say" on the subject of prayer. The word "discover" is used purposely, for the many commentators on St. Ignatius have not always clarified his thought nor passed it on unadulterated to their readers. Father Brou observes: "Now it some-times happens that with'the best intentions in the World his thought has been misunderstood. Authors . . . have viewed the teachings of the Saint through a mist of commentary, and a commentator never fails to add something to his text" (p. vii). Father Brou gdes back to sdurces, the text of the Spiritual Exer-cises, and he interprets them in the light of Stl Ignatius' personal March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS letters, supplementing his findings with. the writings of intimate con-temporaries of the Saint--St. Francis Xavier, Blessed Peter Faber, Father Nadal--to mention but three. The work is divided into four main divisions. In the first St. Ignatius' teaching on prayer and the interior life, the ,relation of prayer to the apostolate, seeking God in all things, the presence of God, and finally mystical prayer are treated. The second and third parts are devoted to the preparations for prayer and the so-called methods of prayer respectively, while the fourth part treats the coun-sels for the time during and after prayer, and tl~e rules for the dis-cernment of spirits. Two features of the teachin'g of.St. Ignatius as presented in this book are noteworthy. First is the continuity ot: practically every portion of the Ignatian teaching with a tradition of Catholic spirit-uality which he both inherited and developed into the forms found in the Exercises. The other is what we might call the compatibility of high prayer with the active life of the apostolate. Great mystic ¯ that he was, SI~. Ignatius was eminently a man of the active aposto-late, what we would call nowadays a man of affairs. He conceived the man of affairs as a man of prayer, and a life of prayer as not at all incompatible with a full daily schedule. "To St. Francis Borgia he asserts that it is more perfect to be able to find God everywhere and in all things than to have need of an oratory and long prayers to enter into union with Him" (p. 39). The book combines the excellent qualities of thoroughness and brevity. It can be r~ad and reread with profit.--T. L. McNAIR, S.J. LITTLE CATECHISM OF PRAYER. By Father Gabr;el of St. Mary Mag-dalen, O.C.D. Transla÷ed by ÷he Discalced Carmelite Nuns. Pp. 44. Monastery of Discalced Carmelites, Concord, New Hampshire, 1949. $.2S (paper). People in general who cultivate mental prayer and v.ery particu-larly all those who would like to practice it in the spirit and after the manner of the Carmelites, traditional leaders in matters of the contemplative life, will welcome this Little Catechism. In six chap-ters and eighty-nine questions it introduces one to "prayer in the contemplative life," "the methbd of mental prayer," "preparation and reading," "meditation and colloquy," "difficulties in prayer," and "the presence of God." There is nothing theoretical or learned or meticulously precise about it. Evidently it is meant, as its title suggests, to be a simple and practical primer. On the other hand 99 BOOK NOTICES Review for Religious there "are thoughts in it which would be helpful and inspiring, I should say, to almost anyone, even tb contemplatives far advanced in the ways of prayer and sanctity. For instance, from the very first page one might learn this distinction between the Christian life and the contemplative life: the good Christian "lives /:or God," whereas the contemplative soul "lives not only for God, but also with God." Likewise it is emphasized at the very beginning in a quotation from St. Teresa that to reach the higher degrees of prayer one must per-force add the practice of mortification, "because prayer and comfort do not go together."--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES BLESSED MARIA GORETTI: Martyr for Purity, by 3ohn Cart, C.SS.R., is an admirable life of the twentieth-century martyr whom the Holy Father intends to canonize in the course of the present holy year. Blessed Maria sets an ideal before modern youth who live in an atmosphere so perilous to purity. (Dublin: Clonmore ~ Reynolds, Ltd., 1949. Pp. 70. 3/6.) Father Louis I. Fanfani, O.P., an outstanding modern canonist, has published a third edition of DE IURE RELIGIOSORUM. While keeping all the good qualities of previous editions, the book has been brought up to date and considerably increased in volume. A separate chapter is devoted to the newly established Secular Institutes. Four important documents are added by way of appendices: I. The new Norrnae of 1921; II. Letter of the Sacred Congregation of. Religious of 1931 on the formation and training of religi6us for sacred orders; III. Instruction on the enclosure of nuns with solemn vows issued in 1924; and, IV. The Statutes for Extert~ Sisters of monasteries of nuns, approved by Pope Pius XI in 1929 an'd published by the Sacred Congregation of Religious two years later. These documents are given in the original Latin text. (Rovigo, Italy: .Istituto Padano di Arti Grafiche, 1949. Pp. xxxi + 810. L. 2000.) OUR ETERNAL VOCATION, written anonymously by a Carmelite nun in England, is intended for all, priests, religious, or laity, who are interested in attaining higher sanctity. Of its three main sections, the first treats of sanctity in gener.al, its meaning, its instruments, its fruits (pp. 9-135). The second is concerned with religious voca-tion in particular (pp. 135-177). The last tells about the sanctity and mission of St. Therese of Lisieux (pp. 177-207). The doctrine seems to be solid throughout and Jr'is presented palatably by a crisp style tinged With feeling and garnished with 100 March, 195 0 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS striking illustrations. The book contains some shrewd psychology on the value of sincerity in attaining holiness, on methods of over-coming mental depression, on the natural requisites for a religious vocation. As might be expected, the author emphasizes the "Iittle way" of St. Therese, but she does not derogate from other methods of acquiring sanctity. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1949. Pp. 207, $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [These notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory examination of the books listed. Some of the books will be reviewed or will be given longer notices later. The list is complete up to Feb. 10.] CARMELITE THIRD'ORDER PRESS, 6427 Woodlawn Avenue, Chi-. cago 37. Take This Scapulart. By Carmelite Fathers and Tertiaries. Pp. 270. $2.50. Unfolds the story of Our Lady's Scapular. FRANCISCAN HERALD PRESS, 1434 W. 51st Street, Chicago. Tertiar~ Office of the Parers. Pp. 103. $.50 (30% discount for orders of 25 or more). A vest-pocket booklet of aids in reciting the office prepared especially for members of the Third Order of St. Francis. Also contains the Seraphic Office, the Office of the Pas-sion, and the Franciscan Tertiary Office with reflections. M. H. GILL ~ SON, Ltd., 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin. Fair as the Moon. By Father M. Oliver, O.Cist.R. Pp. xi -b 235. 12s. 6d. A portrait of Mary, the Mother of God and "Purest of Creatures." Catherine McAule~I: The First Sister of Mercy. Pp. x ÷ 434. 15/-. "This book, the fruit of considerable research, is based largely on hitherto unpublished document's, and throws fresh light on Cath-erine McAuley's life and work." [5. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis 2, Missouri. Ps~/cbiatq/and Asceticism. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. $2.00. True Stories for First Communicants. Pp. 80. $1.25. First Communion Davis. Pp. 96. $1.25. Both by a Sister of Notre Dame. True stories which should help children in preparing for their first Communion and after. The books were first printed in 1919 and 1920 respectively. The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Two volumes. By Maurice 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS for Religiou* Meschler, S.J. Pp. xxii q-- 545 arid viii -b 551. $12.00 (set). Translated by Sister Mary Margaret, O.S.B. This is the fifth edi-tion of the author's well-known meditations on the life of Christ. LEMOYNE COLLEGE PRESS, LeMoyne Heights, Syracuse 3, New York. Inigo de Logola. By Pedro Leturia, S.J. Pp. xiii + 209. $4.50. The story of the early life of St. Ignatius up to and including his conversion. LIBRERIA FRANCESCO FERRARI, Via dei Cestari, 2, Kome, Italy. Manuale Tbeorico-Practicurn Tbeologiae Moralis ad Mentern D. Thomae. By Father Louis J. Fanfani, O.P. Pp. xix + 648. This is the first of a set of three volumes. It treats of man's last end, human acts, laws, conscience, the virtues, sins, and censures. It is planned to complete the set within the course of the year. LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. Life. and Miracles of St. Benedict. By Pope St. Gregory the Great. Translated by Odo J. Zimmermann, O.S.B., and Benedict R.Avery, O.S.B. Pp. xv q- 87. $2.00 (cloth); $.90 (paper). A translation of Book Two of the Dialogues of St. GregorY. MCLAUGHLIN ~ REILLY, 45 Franklin Street, Boston 10. When the People Sang. By Marie Pierik. Pp. 32. $.50 (paper). "A simple treatise on the Gregorian Chant, its history and use." NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Treatise on Prager and Meditation. By St. Peter of Alcantara. Translated by Dominic Devas, O.F.M. Pp. xx ÷ 211. $2.50. Besides this classic treatise on prayer, the book contains an introdtic-tion and sketch of the saint's life and a complete English version of Pax Anirnae, a treatise formerly attributed to the saint. The Spiritual Life of the Priest. By M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.R. Pp. 161. $2.50. A reprint of a series of articles which first appeared in the pages of The Priest. The Holg Year of Jubilee. By Herbert Thurston, S.J. Pp. xxiv -[- 420. $4.25. An account of the history and ceremonial of the Roman jubilee. Contains many illustrations. First printed in 1900. The Wag of Divine Love. Pp. xxxvii q- 532. $4.25. A com-plete account of the revelations of the Sacred Heart as made to Sister Josefa Menendez, Coadjutrix Sister of the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There is also a short biography of the Sister and an analytical index. 102 March, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Purgatorg and the Means to AvoidIt. By Martin Jugie, A.A. Pp. 203. $3.25. A doctrinal and devotional treatment of a subject that is of interest to all. The book is translated from the seventh French edition by Malachy Gerard Carroll. The Life and Revelations of Saint Gertrude: Virgin and Abbess, of the Order of St. Benedict. Pp. xlv + 570. $4.00. A reprinting of an old favorite which first appeared some eighty years ago. Prager for All Times. By Pierre Charles, S.J. Translated by Maud Monahan. Foreword by C. C. Martindale, S.J. Pp. 328. $3,50. A book on prayer designed "to mak~ smooth the ways of the spirit and to unfold the eternal message of the nearness of God." Little Catechism of the Act of Oblation of St. Th~r~se of the Child Jesus. By the Carmelites of Lisieux. Translated by Rev. Mi-chael Collins, A.M. Pp. 22. $.25. PROVINCE OF ST. JOSEPH OF THE CAPUCHIN ORDER, 1740 Mt. EI-liott Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. Meditations: Volume I: Advent to Ash Wednesday. By Bernar-dine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap. Translated from the German by Berch- "mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. 537. $3.50 (paper). ST. CATHARINE JUNIOR COLLEGE LIBRARY, St. Catharine, Ken-tucky. The Catholic Booklist 1950. Edited by Sister SteIla Marls, O.P., for the Catholic Library Association. Pp. 74. $.65 (paper). "An annotated bibliography, for the most part Catholic in authorship or subject matter, chosen as a guide to the recreational and instructional reading of Catholics." UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Christfan Vfrtues. By Charles E. Sheedy, C.S.C. Pp. xi q- 361. $3.00. A book on moral theology for college students and lay readers. God and the World of Man. By Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. Pp. viii -}- 318. $3.00. A theological text for the layman. Treat-ises on faith, God, the Trinity, creation, the elevation and fall of .man, the end of the world and man. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7. --Must It be Communism? By Augustine J. Osgniach, O.S.B. Pp. x -]- 486. A philosophical inquiry into the major issues of today. The last three chapters are by Jerome L. Toner, O.S.B. 103 .uestdons and Answers We have an application from a woman who has obtained a permanent separation from her husband and now wishes to try out the religious llfe. Creusen, ReBgious Men and H/omen ~n the Code, p. 135, states: "A wife abandoned by her husband., does not need his consent to enter, rell-gion. One may see in R.C.R., 1939, under what conditions her entry into religion may be obtained." Please tell us what R.C.R. stands for, and, if convenient, give us a summary of the conditions referred to. R.C.R. refers to a review for religious published in Belgium by Father Creusen and his associates under the title Reoue des Commun-autos Religieuses (53 rue Royale, Brussels, Belgium). Here is a sum-mary of what Father Creusen wrote in the answer referred to. (1) The aspirant must not have been in any way the gravely culpable cause of the separation. (2) There must be moral certitude that she cannot be forced legally to abandon the religious life in order to resume married life. A civil divorce is the best guarantee. (For this the bishop's permission should be obtained.) (3) If the appli-cant has children, their care and support will have to be guar~inteed. (4) The superior of an institute or monastery who is willing to accept her on trial must be convinced that she has an extraordinary vocation and that there are particular reasons to anticipate her perse-verance. If all these conditions are fulfilled, the person in question may appeal to the Holy See for the necessary dispensation. She should do so personally. To this personal appeal a letter of recommenda-tion from her bishop should be added. This recommendation should be given at least regarding the good character of the person, even though the bishop does not wish to support her application for the dispensation. Finally, a letter from the religious superior who is willing to accept the candidate, stating that she believes the applicant to have an extraordinary vocation and that the community is willing to receive her on trial, will complete the official documents required. A baptismal certificate of the applicant and a copy of the decree of civil divorce ~hould be sent along with the other documents. Father Creusen concludes his answer with the following para-graph: "It must be added that the Holy See shows itself very prudent and very reserved in granting this dispensation. The utmost good will in the beginning is far, it seems, from guaranteeing perseverance 104 QuEs-r~o~s ~no ANswrRs in vocations of this kind. It is useless to encourage the application without exceptional reasons." Canon law cjrants to superiors the rlgttf #o extend: (I) the posfulancy, but not beyond six months (canon 539, § 2); (2) the time of the novif~ofe, but not beyond six months {canon 571, § 2); (3~ the period of temporary vows, but

Issue 5.5 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; Revxew for Religxous ,, SEPTEMBER ~,15, 1!94 Qualities of' ~ Moral Guide . . . . , 6~,ald Kelly New Vitality for the Exame.n . '. . Richard t: Rooney. How is Your:Fai÷h? . ~ . . ,. Patrick I~1~ Regan ,On Readin9 af Table ' Claude Ke~n !Preparincj Lay Apostles . ~' / . JohnA. Herdon 0u Lr da ys o'sRary ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ~ , . Adam¯~ C. EII;s ,~ " ~_~., ¯ Ques÷i0~s Answered Books Reviewed ,Vo~u~E:y NUMBER REVIEW FOR R L GIOUS VOLUME V SEPTEMBER 15, 19"46 NUMBER 5 CONTE TS QUALITIES OF A GOOD MORAL GUIDE Gerald Kelly, S.J. 281 NEW VITALITY FOR THE OLD EXAMEN Richard L. Rooney, S.J. /296° OUR CONTRIBUTORS . ". . . ~ . . 300 HOW IS YOUR FAITH?--Patrick M. Regan. S.J . 301 IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW IT-- . . 314 ON READING AT TABLE Claude Kean, O.F.M .3.15 PREPARING FOR THE LAY APOSTOLATE John A. Hardon, S.J. 319 OUR LADY'S ROSARY Adam C. Ellis, S.J .3.2.4. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 29. Confessions in Convent Parlor .' . 335 ~0. Gift-Money Put Aside for Masses . 33~ 31. Toties Quoties Indulgence on Rosary Sunday . 336 32. Indulgence for Renewal of Vows . 337 33. Use of Profits from Sale of Stationery and Religious Articles 337 34. Profits of School Store Used for Teachers' Supplies and .Correspond-ence Courses . 337 35. Quality of Flour for Altar Breads . 338 BOOK REVIEWS " The Mysteries of Christianity; Major Trends in American Church His-tory; A Mystic Under Arms: Wisdom for Welfare: The Golden Thread of Newman; The Sacred Ceremonies of Low Mass; Caeremoniale: Pars Altera De Celebrante . g . . . " . 340 BOOKS RECEIVED " " 344 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. September. 1946. Vol. V, 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 January 15, 1942. at the Post Office. Topeka, Kansas, under the act of" March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J. G. Augustine Ellard, S.J. Gerald Kelly, SJ. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. SchneideL S.,I. ° Copyright, 1946, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. ,Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Qoalities of a ¯ Good Moral Guide Gerald ~Kelly,o [;.3. IWAS recently'called on to give a confereonce and lead a discussion on the qualities of a good moral g~ide~ In : preparing the conference I was.impressed by the fact that among Catholics .the most important of all moral guides is the confessor, and that all who give extra-confessional moral guidance must possess to some,degree a5 least the per-sonal qualifications that the Church expects her confessors to have. It seemed quite logical and practical, therefore, to base the conference on the qualities of a good confessor enumerated in the Roman Ritual, and to explain these qualities in much the same way as moral theologians explain them when~treating of the minister of the sacra-ment of penance. Since the group for whom the confer: ence was prepared, was made up almost entirely of religious, I Considered that anything which wouldbe of use to them should also be useful in the REVIEW. That is the reason for the present article. Before discussing the qualities of a good moral guide, it is necessary to determine what ismeant by moral guidance and who might reasonably be considered' as moral guides'. A "guide" points the way,to something, helps others to attain a goal of some kind. A "moral" guide that ls, a guide in moral matters is one who helps others to lead good lives and thus to achieve the best and highest of goals, their salvation and sanctification. SuCh, I think, is the' accepted meaning of moral guidance in the Catholic Church: guidance in,things that pertain to virtuous living. ~Very likely, when We think of guidancel we usually 281 GERALD KELLY Reoieu~ [or Religious. think of it in terms of direction given to individuals: for example;°iJyl confessors, spiritual directors, and student counselors. Yet it .would be a mistake to limit the meaning ~o such formal, indivi~lual relationships. The teacher who explains the Commandments of God, the precepts of the Church, or the Evangelical Counsels, is certainly giving moral guidance, not-to an individual, it is true, but to an ehtire g.rou~p.- So too, the teacher who in' an informal way answers the questi.ons concerning right conduct, that 0stu-dents are wont to ask after class hours is really giving moral guidance, ~ven ,though not in the official capacity of a~studen~ counselor. From what I have said, it is clear that the term "moral ~uikt'i~:' is hpplicable tO-'ii wide range of persons: pfirents: teachers, youth counselors, religious superiors, spiritual directors of religious, confessors, and all others who, in at least an informal and general way, give advi,ce on moral matters. In a class by himself is the confessor, because of his~unique power of absolving and because, quite naturally, certain probl.ems will be referred to him which will rarely, if ever, fie referred to the others. However, if we exclude what belongs uniquely to the confessor, it is apparent that ' all the other moral guides I have mentioned share with him to some degr.ee the office of directing souls and should there-fore be proportionately endowed with the qualities the Church expects him to possess. The remaining sections of this article are based on this assumption. I might add, however, .that in drawing the parallel between the con-feskor and extra-confessional moral guides, I have par-ticularly in mind those religious who have been entrusted with the special office of guiding youth: for example, stu-dent cdunselors. °The Ritual lays special stress on these four qualities of a good confessor: knowledge, prudence, holiness,-and a .282 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MOI~AL G~ID~s careful observance Of secrecy. It would be difficult~ if not impossible, to think.of' a more apt and adequate summary of qualifications for good moral guidance, whether in or out of the confessional. 1. KNOWLEDGE That those who gu.ide others in the way of salvation must hav~ some knowledge seems too obvious to need com-ment. The blind cannot lead the blind. Yet, it is distres-sing to note how often one hears remarks like these: "You don't need knowledge; all you need is common sense . In the guidance of youth, and especially of children, com-mon sense and sound piety will take care of everything." Such statements are sheer nonsense. Common sense and sound piety certainly have their places in moral guidance, as will be'explained later; but they will not supply for a lack of knowledge of God's laws and of the teaching and laws of the Church. Nor will they supply the' factual knowledge of such things as physiology and psychology that is sometimes required for appropriate guidance. It is one thing to say that g ~uidance presupposes knowl- ,edge; it is quite another_ thing to say just what the moral guide should know and how much he should know. The basic studies that enter into the training of confessors are moral theology, canon law, and ascetical theology. Besides these, it is presupposed that as.a priest he Will know dog-matic theology. I think it is safe to say that-these same subje.cts should form the basis for extra-confessional guidance. The required essential knowledge would differ, theref6re, rather in degree than in kind: All guides should know at least the laws of the ChurCh that ordinary Cath-olici must observe and the approved explanations of these" laws. They should also know the main principles of Cath-oli~ morality and asceticism. 28,3 GE~_ALD" KELLY Review for Religiou~ Guides ~dealo.with:human beings; ,they must 'therefore know something of that h.ighlyAnteresting thing sometimes re.ferred to, as ~"huma~a,~nature.~ ~Ofsourse;~a great :deal 6f knowledge of "human nature" can be. gleaned, fr0m per-sonal experience and close 9bservation of the reactions of oneself and of others. Yet ~ersonal experience is not narfly, sufficient for .the moral grade;~ he should 'also know Something of;the e~dei~len(~cien~dfic st~idies no~ available on ~iJd ps~cholgg;Ci~d61es~ent psychology, the ps~ch010g~ of Cha~c~er, mentfil "hy~iene, "and s6 forth. In~re~iding.such works, however; the moral guide may himself ia~eed the guid~_n~e~°of a competent~ psychologist; for, l~esides the ex~lien~ ~a~efial'~written'on these subjects, ther~ is no small amour~ of Ua[eli~ible. and even .basically ~nchristian materl~l:~ - ¯ - °Ho~ niucl~ mus.t one know !n order to give proper g~uid~inc¢?. The only~ answer is that it depends on the kind of guidance one isi~xpected to give. The nbrm usually given for the minimum amp_unt of~ knowledge of mdral the-ology require'd of a confessor is this: he should know enough to solve the ordinary cases iike!y to be p~esented to him in th~ place wtiere he is to hdar confessions and should be able to recognize exceptionally diflicul t cases that demand further study or consultation with experts. I beli~eve ~that same norm may be. ~applied proportionately to all guides, and I doubt if ~anything mor~" definite can be given in a gen- ~ral article like this. 2. PRUDENCE " Prudence is the virtue which "helps i~s in all circum-stances to form a right judgment as ~o what we should seek or avoid~for the sake of eternal life" (cf. Gasparri's~Cate-chism). ¯ Wheh: we~ speak of this virtue with .regard to a director of souls the "eternal life" that we have principally,, 284 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL GUIDES in mind is not the spiritual good of'the director but rather the good of the person, he is directing. In. other wobds, the spiritual guid~ must judge what is dondu¢ive, or more con-duci~ ce, .to the~salvation and sanctification of his charge and then, give his counsel accordingly. It is not 'correct, however, to say that the spiritual director seeks ont~/the good'of the persons he "is directing. True prudence must take iia the whole picture. One is "not prudent who ha~rms his own soul in trying to benefit others. .Nor i~ one, prudent who seeks to help ~n individual at the expens~ ofagreater good, Jfor example; the good of the whole coin.munity,,or the, good of the ~hole Church., An adequate descriptiQn, of the prudent guide would, ,~there~ fore, be stated, somewhat as.follov~s: he is one who uses his knowledge, ~his perso.nality, ahd his influence on others°in sucb.a.:way.asoto atthiwthe good of the soul. he.is~directing ' ~ithouvat the;same tim~ harming his°6wn-soul.~ovd~feating a ,,greater good . ~In~ fact, when~corre~tly interpreted,~-t~he ~ord~°,,ad rriajorein,, Dei~:,91oria~ formul~ite, a; perfect rule of prudence. _ "-,~ ~, , - .;. ~ Without further theorizing on this virtue, I should,like to give here a,, nu'mber of practical points concerning the exercise of prudence, in giviiag,moral guidance. :. I am listing th~se points more or less in the fofm,of,,jotting~ because the subject is too large for more complete treatfnent here;' and, though I, gefierally dislike negatives, I thihk it Will, be espe-cially conveni~flt to put these stiggestions in the form~ of._. a series of dOn'~b. Some ,of thesed o'n ts may appear to be more directly concerned ,with,,tbe technique of counseling than"with the virtue of pr-ud~nde; yet, as .I have already indicated; the- actual exercise~of prudence consisl~s"nbt only in directing souls towards a certain end,but also in choosing the :most"appropriate ~means ,,for ~attai.ning., this: end.~q And technique, or tact, is a,.gery., important means,in :the direc~ 285 GERALD KELLY Review for Relioions tion 6f~others. Don't scold. Even~ people who' ask for.h scolding-do notusually want it and are rather .alienated: than helped.by it. I still remember a story told.'during one of my novitiate retreats which aptly ill~astrates this po'int. In a certain parish ;there was a very devout woman who yearned to s:ale the b.eights of holiness and who had heard that trials and humiliations are essential for this. Accordingly she pleaded ins~ste:~tly .with her pastor, "Try me, Father. Please, try me, Father." The pastor was a peace-loving manand had no inclination to accede to her desires ; but one day when she returned some altar linensshe had launder'ed " he kept her for a few minutes and beganexamining the 'linens in her presence. As he looked at each piece of linen he called attention to some imaginary° (or real) defect in the laundering. A few minutes of this was all that the .would-be saint could endure. She burst into tears and began to__~upbraid the pastor for his ingratitude. But he . cut. her short in the midst of her. tirade with a dry'smile and the chiding rebuke, "Try me, Father. Please, try .me, Father." Don't interrupt unnecessarily. It is generally better for the guide to allow his consultant to tell his entire story and then ask questions about points that need further elu-. cidation. Unnecessary interruptions are apt to cause con-fusion and even irritation. Moreover, such interruptions can easily remove the pe.rfect spontaneity of the narrative and result in a "coloring" of the story ac4ording to some preconceived notion of the director. Don't make yourseff indispensable to your consultants. Even ~ children should gradually be emancipated from the need of getting advice about the ordinary moral problems of life. And, though, maturity does not entirely relieve one of all necessity of getting advice, yet progress towards 286 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF-MORAL GUIDES maturity should surely be marke~ by a diminishing neces-sity of advice in ordinary matters. The best type ofspir-itual direction consists in helping the consultant to do his own planning--with the help of .the Holy Ghost, of course; and the guidance of even the immature and the mentall~r unsettled should be directed towards this same end. Don't unnecessarily send consultants to someone else. Boys and girls sometimes ask their teachers about their problemsbecause they have confidence in these teachers. It is not prudent to send them elsewhere, even to a confessor, if ode can easily solve the problem, for they usually accept help most willingly from those in whom they can readily. confide. And this is also true of "grown-ups." The opposite of this error should also be avoided: that ~is, counselors should never show resentment if their con-sultants wish toL seek guidance from someone else. In this matter one should keep in mind :the liberty that the Church' extends to the faithful regarding the choice of confessors. Tbe~same liberty should be enjoyed by_ those who seek extra-confessional guidance. Feelings of superiority or of jealousy, even among those who are working for God, are quite human and excusable; but the deliberate yielding to and manifestation of such feelings by bragging or criticism is petty and can do great harm to God's cause. Don't destroy cont~dence in others. I am thinking of cases such as this: A priests6metimes finds that a child has a false notion of what is right or wrong because of something his mother told him or something a Sister said. In cor-recting the child's conscience it is the priest's du, ty to try to do so in such a way as to preserve'his confidence in his mother or the Sister. He can usually do that by saying, "Your mother meant something like this . . ."; or "The Sister probably'didn't mean it ji~st that way"; and so forth. As a-matter of fact, the child may have misunderstood his 287 GERALD KELLY Review [or Religious mother or the Sister; but, even if h~ did not misunderstand. th~ priest should avoid giving the impression that the m6ther or the Sister was wrong. The case,of the child as just cited is merely, an example. A~nyone entrusted with the guidance off.others can make a mistake, inculcate erroneous0ideas, and foster a.false con-science.~ Yet among.alF.guides--whether parents, teachers, counselors, ,,or confessors-~there should be a spirit of what I might ~call '~'profeisional "loyalty" which.shourd prompt each one to correct the mistakes ma'de by others without at the same ~time,~°shying that they were mistakes. It is important-for all of" us that those who .need ~uidance should retain their confidence :and respect for those" who guide i?h~m; Ddn'~t be too quick to sdlve "ba~d-luck stories" that inOoloe absdnt persons. When two parties are involved in a quarrel or a misunderstanding there are always two sides to the matter. If the donsultant is one of the parties, he will very likely be prejudiced, even though he does not wish to be ahd sincerel3i thinks that he is not. Ir~ such cases the' ideal solution is to get the two ,parties together:and thexi to thresh out the matter: but of course this"may seldom be possible when a ~matter of co~nscience is involved. Never~ theless, even when tb~ other party cannot be se~n or inter-. viewed-the" "guide should try to understand his ,side of the c~se:b~fore planning a course'-of action for his cbnsultant.~ ,Don't bxaggOratb~.tbe sex prbbtem. ' Speaking.:of the confessor's'prudence; moral~theologians lay particular stress. on the ~need df this vi,rtue iia ~all m~itters" p~rtaining,, to,~sex. ":It is better to say-too little thaB too much,~.' is a' theologi:~ cal_ axiom in this,iegard; and~thisapplies-not only, ~o,con-~ fes~brs but to,, all nioral guides.-,:~eachers~ and,,counselOrh' need not~ be surprised~ if they fihd, the topid,int~re~ting.;~yei~, the.yo, should not allow their; interest to,become ~rnbrbid'. 288 QUALITIES OF MORAL'GUIDES They should :not probe for sex problems, particularly for details ~concerning such.problems. A.,.probing.tendency easily becomes morbid and often results in ~the ri~di~ule~ bf the teacher .or counselor who manifests such a tendency. For example, if a few students once suspect, that a. certain teacher or adviser is especially, interested ~in-: sex ~problems, they will speedily.pass:the vgord~on to ot.hers, and'offensive nicknames will pr0bablyobe coined.; I am not arguing,f6r,a~ Victorian silence concerning sex. I believe .that the topi~ should be treated with a simple wholesomeness,, but. as one'part of life,~ and not.as the whole of-life,~ The di.rector who overemphasizesothe'subject will but. defeat,his own cause--and this, :for one~'in the ap.ostolic life, is a gross- _violatio.n:_ of, the ,.most .fun_damental~ rule of prudence~ There,~:are people boys and girls,, men.and women.~---evendn this sex-consdous world of~o~rs, who have absolutely no problem with°regard tq sex: ~0It is v~Lry imprudent .for a guide, .to create prob.lems for such people by' u.nnec.essary,~.questioning,, or by imparting useles.s i.nfor- " ,T,he~Holy ~ee ha~: repeatedl~ called attention~to the. n~edof pr.udence, not only in treating the topi~ of,,sex~ bht also iri' dealing, with the members of the opposite sex., Here again;,~l, might mention that~ special interest is, not unusu~I. It is Certainly quite'naturaI.ofor a man to e'x~erience a,.special interest in,associating with ~omen; quite natural too that, ~omen will be,particula, rly enthusiastic in helping,boys and young men. To'-s6me extent:this natural attractiveness can'be made a powerful, force in the spiritual life. But not if, it gets out of control. The counselor.who makes himsdf or herself a special apostle to the other sex is not likely to have the, dignity, reserve, and purity of intention°required for true success. Hence, while On" the on~,hand it:is not right for anyone to caltivate.a.n i~ttitude of disdain forthe 289 GERALD KELLY Revieto t:or Religious othersex and to become-a. "man-hater", or a ,~'woman-hater, ""it is nevertheless necessary to'avOid the other extreme of giving the impression'that one's.life is divinely dedicated only to, the' opposite sex. Furthermore, one must remember that e~en innocent relationships can appear unsavory and thus harm the cahde:of Christ. Don't giv~ in~orrnatiofi that can't be digested. Those who teach and advise children- are particularly in need of this Caution: Children cannot assiriailate allthe fine dis-tinctions onerlehrns in ethlc~ and in moral th~01ogy:" for example; the~tea~hingon mental 'reservation, the' cases in-' vdlving the "double effect," the difference between the abso-lute and the relative methods of calculating grave sins of theft. We can ~afely say that childrenshould.never be t01d What is false; btit it does not follow 'from this that they shbtild always be t01d the whole truth. For in'stance, Chil-dren should be c6rrectly instructed as to what to do when they doubt whether they have broken the Eucharistic fast, whether they have yielded to a serious temptation, whether they are excused from hearing Mass, and so forth; and-from the solutions of these individu'al problems they will gradu-ally learn by induction the very important ~principles regarding the solution of the so-called "doubtful coil-science." The same is true ~of other moral and ascetical principles.-' Children "learn them best_ thrdugh concrete examples ~and through the solution of individual cases. They are'hardLy capable of learning the.principle firsl~ and then. applying 'it to, practical cases. (But the teacher or the director must know:the principle well; otherwi~e~he might cause confusion in'making the transition from ~one case to anothe'r. Don't guess an answer. If l.had to grad~ errors in prudence ~according to:.their potential" h~rmfulness; I would put'this amofig the'.very highest. '; If' the director "d0es'iaot 290 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL.GUIDES know the answer to a question or the solution tb a prob-lem, he shodld say so. It is the common experience", even of those who teach children, that omniscienc~ is not.expected of human beings and that the sincere admission of ignorance does not hndermine confidence. "On the other hand, it is evident that great harm can result from trying to solve vital problems by guesswork. Some go to the opposite extreme in this matter: they never give a definite answer, even-when they are reasonably certain about the correct solution. ,This type of guide has the same attitude toward his consultants' problems that the scrupulous person entertains towards his own. The latter is always afraid he is wrong;and he find~ it difficult, if not impossible, to m~ike himself follow what are in themselves perfettly reasonable judgments. ~ Similarly, the timorous guide will not trust his own judgment and will fear to commit himself in the solution of practical moral prob-lems. In other words, he is no guide ~it all. Don't fret over errors mdde in good faith. It is very helpful for those who direct consciences to examine them-selve~ periodically to see how they ~isk questions, solve problems, deal with-different pgrsonalities, and so forth. If this is done calmly and solely with a view to self-imprbvement it is a salutary and commendable practice. ,But if it is used as an occasion to generate worries, it is use-less and even harmful. It can make the office of guiding others an intolerable burden. None of us is infallible except the Pope; and his infallibility is circumscribed by many coriditions. 3. HOLINESS A few years ago The Messenger of.tbe Sacred Heart published an instructive 'incident from the life of Garcia Moreno, once President of Ecuador:. If I remember, the 291 GERALD KELLY o Reoiew for:Religious storycorrec~ly, it went,:somewhat as follows. As a young man Moreno was a master at expl_aining his faith; but scarcely a tyro in 4ts practice: Ond ~vening,:'in-the course of a long discussion with a rationalist acquaintance, Moreno repeatedly'got the' bette~-of °the arguments; arid' the ration- Mist-finally admitted: r'.v rytlamg ,you say seems to be true; yet I can't accept any of it, for.your own life-gives" the lie. to it all." . -: ~ .5 This~ story illustrates, one reason why the wisest guidance is apt to be useless unless the .guide is a persor~ of - solid-virtue.' Example speaks louder than words; Land ,.this is particularly true in the case of the .,young.~ The young are very human; and it is but human to lose con-fidence in ,one who does not practice what he preaches, to balk at accepting high ideals from one who apparently has no personal idea!s, to refuse to be taught honesty, purity, sobriety, and ~,such things by one whose own life is not marked by these qualities. ¯ In fact; if .we. donsider only g?od example, it seems that the ext.r~a.-co.nfes~iona1 guide.is ~more in need of solid yirtue than is the.confessor; for the faithful in general are schooled in the p,rin~iple.t~hat;the sa.craments do not .depend ,gn the 'holiness of the~,min,ister for their efficacy. This principle does not hold for non-sacramental ministries. Hence, in o~, ~ense a~,.least,.,th~e third .requisite. m, entioned by th.e Rttual=- , goodness, ofl~ e'i"f . - ~ - . p e ritans more to the e-xtra-sacramental. guide, than to the confessor. - ".)It seems~.ob,~ious~ th,at, ,quite apart from the need pf confirming one's words by good example, the successful carrying %n of moral guidance calls for the practice of many virtues. I will not try to enumeral!e these virtues here, for r think tha~,~ is ~uniledessary: ~he requirede.virtiies can be epito~nized.,.~iia ,~dne,:,.~ charit~r~, harity ,tow, ards God ,,and ctiaritg:towards the neighbor. - :.- . ,-, ~.r~ -,~. ,~., ~292 8eptember~ 194~ ~UAL'ITIES OF MORAL GUIDES . Love:.of .God is e~se~itial; for, the'~ direction,of souls :is His work.~i.nd it>must be.unequivocaIly:~onsecrated to Him. Some: :guides apparently have great success', even;though they seem to be impelled mostly, by a-.natural love" fo.r the ~ork~.and by the nattiral satisfaction they obtairi ',from having 6thers" ".dep.endent on them, confiding in-them; and flattering them. This may seem to be the case;,, yet I wonder if it is actually so. No doubt God can work wonders with cheap instruments. Yet.it is,~ardly according to His ordi-nary providence, to do so. , Normally He works His marvels of grace through the, instrumentality of those who-are closely joined to Him by love. ._ : , .Charity toward'the neighborAs also necessary. .The guide needs it first arid foremost" to give. him a ,vital super_- natural motivation. ; F,6r: even" though~ it be',trhe, that_some ean be-carried f6rward in: this wo'tk by some natural:~liking --becahselthey like,to, deal with" people,°like to'engage,,in externaLoccupations, and, so' forth--this is by no means universally>true. Most of those .who are assigned fo guidance work find that many who, need their help are not naturally, attractive. The guide needs to see these and, all souls with "the' eyes of,Christ;, he ',has to realize that these souls, who come to hiin for help are:Christ's ".~least.br~th~ ren"; that' they were redeem~d,by;_t.he Blood of (~hrist; that they bel6ng,'or should belong, to theMystical. Body of Christ. Motivation on some .16wer,pla.ne easily~ springs from or degenerat4s into'sheer selfqove:,,which usesghidance only as a "means bf serf-expression and self-glorification a sterile ihing in the propagation of, ihe Kifigdom of God: " Charity. t0wardslthe neighbor is not merely a~ motive force in guidance, Jris also,a supernatural', toot:.that must. be used constantly. :,In this regard.I can' think,.of nokhing more-appropriate than St. Paul'!s subhme eulogy,.:,: -Chanty is~ patient, is°kind; charity envieth not, ~dealeth, not per.- 293 GERALD KELLY Review [or Religious vgrsely, i~ n~ot puffed up, is ndt ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth witla the trtith: beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." These inspired wor°ds merit constant meditation by the spiritual guide. But we shall have to leave them for medi-tation. I can but say a few words here about the first two qualities, "Charity is patient, is kind." ¯ The ideal for all spiritual guides is, of course, Our Lord Himself. Among the fruits of meditation on His life should be a sympathetic attitude towards others and an eagerness to help them; a desire to see the .good in them and draw it to the surface ;.a readiness for the little couitesies and kindnesse~ that mean so much to the human heart, After all, if these little thing~ mean much in ordinary life, they must mean even more to those who are seeking guidance and "who are often nervous, despondent, and even frightened. As for patience, the spiritual guide has countless occa-sions to practice it. Consultants are sometimes unpleasant in their manner; t,hey fail to cooperate; they c6me at incon-venient times; they dwell lengthily on irrelevant triviali-ties; they occasionally manifest a 'gross selfishness by need-lessly consuming time, as if under the impression that the guide has nothing to do but listen to them. Such things o are apt to test patience to the breaking point. And then there is always the possibility of impatience v$ith one's own s~lfmthat is, with one's inabi!ity to handle a case~ ,~ Some theologians advise priests to leave the ~onfes~ sion~aI for a while when they find that they are becoming irritable: to wal, k for a few minutes in the fresh air, or to ~ relax for a~short time in the rectory. It is better to keep the people waiting for a little while than to run the risk of being sharp or rude. Similar ~idvice may be profitable to all counselors. If one feels so ill-disposed that he cannot 294 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL GUIDES trust himself it is better to avoid an interview or at least to keep it short and continue it later. " ¯ SECRECY The fo~urth requisite for good spiritual .guidance ~is respect for confidences. Religious, perhaps more than any others, should realize the importance of this qualification. They know the great peace and sense of security enjoyed by. individuals and by communities when superiors and direc-tors are careful about respecting confidences; and they know what evils can result from the mere suspicion that someone in authority uses confidential information too freely. Only the sacramental secret is abs61utely inviolable. Other secrets admit at least theoretical and rare exceptions~ BUt it is safe to say 'that, with the exception of the very rare cases wJ~en confidential knowledge may be disclosed, the spiritual ~guide should have a similar ideal with regard to s, ecrecy that the Church constantly pu'ts before her con-fessors. This ideal is succinctl.y proposed by St. Augustine as follows: "I know less about what I hear in confession than I know about those things about which I know no'hinge" Much more could be said about the obligation of secrecy; but I believe that for our present pu~rpose it is suf-ficient to call attention to its importance. It puts what one might call the "finishing touch" on all the other quali-ties. If a director of souls lacks this quality, the others (even if possessed) will be useless; for the person Who does not feel sure that his confidences will be respected simply will not seek guidance. On the other hand, if the director possesses this and the other qualities explaified in this article and uses them for the .good of souls, he will accomplish great things for God and will earn for himself the reward promised to those who instruct others unto justice. 295 N " I't:y fo !:h Old l:::xamen ~ichard L.'Rooney, S.J. ' "" : ~n sea syhsq w.uhla.dt simply ,repeat the verse o~r s, entence over, and over w!tho~.t bejn, g con--. cerned about finish, i.ng .the. prayer or psalm. A month of consistent work at the al~ov~ method of ~xamining on-e's conscience will yield ~uch light :and life to the exercise as to make'it, the exciting cdnt~ict with God that it~can" be and was.meant t6 be. It~will help'too to fuse one's private prayers and liturgical prayers ,'iri~o the unified wholeness that should be the mark Of "the adult ieligious. , , ,OUR CONTRIBUTORS CLAUDE'KEAN, formerly,professor of chant and homiletics at Holy Name, Col-lege, Washington, D. C., is now principal of Timon High,~ School, .,Buffalo, New York. RICHARD L. ROONEY, after serving as a chaplain m the armed forces of the United States during the war, recently joined the staff of The Queen's Work. St.:,Louis,-Missouri. JOHN A. HARDON. who has done much work with high school students in't1~e fiei~l ~f debating and i~ublic speaking,-is'a~ tl~eological s~udent at West Baden College, West Baden Sprifigs, Indiana. [~ATRICK~ M.'REGAN, until r~ecently ,professor of-fundamental theology at St. Mary's C~ollege; St. Marys, Kansas, is sp.iritual director of the junior scholastics at St. Stanislaus Sem!nary, Florissant, Missouri. ~D^M C. ~ELLIg' anal ~EI~.~ED KELLY are"prof~s~ors of canon law m~)ral, theolog~, 'respectively at St'. Mary's .College, St. M~ys. Kdnsas, and are mem-bers of the Editorial Boaid of,REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. ~. 300 . )~'E~ENTL~ a non-Cath0hc journal of theology printed ~1~ ~aff~ditdfial ~n freed~N d{religion. After an.~lysis ~ - of-the' concept of freed5~, ~Yb~ author 6rew tb~s cob; c]usion: "Freedom i~?th~ ~fruit"of~]legxance~ given "to God .~f~ne."v 'He then c~htinued~ VGr~nfing only~a~truly re]i-giSus man-is ~u]ly'~fre~, .,wfi~tL'd0~ fr~edo~ Col: r~]igion mean? . It means, fi~st bf ~]l,a fr~edbm to .cHb~s~sn~s re]i; God resultsqn;freedom td~ ch00se, bne: s own:~religi6nq.~ Why;~ We "w6nde ~t produce allegmnce'to;Go6 s r~l.igion,~ r~veal~d4or all me~ b~ll:' ages? A~ain,,~:sffan~eg;10gic ~that;e:xpl'ai~s there a:fe assortment~of Chr~stmn~ tell: , one .as.good,as. anotHefl. ,~ In,. l'{~'s concern God~ ~s left-us to 'belleve~contrad~ctory doctnnes; to~,}fbllow Lconflietigg~ p~adric~s ~' "all~.this~the fruit , ~' That in the very worship of-God, ~an andnot the' norm~ ~s' contradzctory; "yet-that is precisely~ the~ daffy pracnce of mdhons of Chnstmns. "~s a matter'of factJ'zt - _does noi even occur to them that there is such a thing as one , true religion excludin~ M1 o~fiers as false. When on rare occasions someone institutes ,a s~arc~ for .[ehg~on, t[ut~ consloeranon, because sofew realize that '~ree'~d~m"i?' the' right to CBOose only', what xs gqod ahd t~ue, Godis almost unlvers~lly ~gnored.m matters religious: Truth in Revelation . . ,.:.,: ~o. ' In this whole question. ~f belief, erflphasis must be .laid 301 PATRICK M.R.EGAN R.eview for Religious on tfie'fact that there can bi~ no choice between true and false. GodHiinself in.m~kin.g a revelation could not ignore truth but had:t0, m, an~ifest divine reality as.it actually exists. In a Word, God revealed Himself; and since God cannot .possibly be altered to conform to human opioi0ns,-,man must nece,,,ssafily conform his intellect to the.,truth about God. This he,,does .by believ!ng .the. revealed word. describing God's essence and His relations to man. Now.the first step in,,,the act whereb.y we assent to this .~ruth~ is submission of.the intellect to God's au~h0rity. Thus at the very. outset we must establish direct.,communication with God. Catholics, even though blessed with the true faith and filled .with .high religi'0us id.eals, must, pay special heed to this need of.intellectual contact with God. Though not as vulnerable as those outside the fold, they still may be pron.e ,to give God a sub'ordinate place in their intellectual life of faith, or, even forget Him altogether. Many, for instance, never realize that faith first, last, and always reaches up, to God as the One revealing and the Reality revealed. In the matter of divine charity most of us under-stand clearly enough the necessity of going straight to God without detours through selfish interests, and so strive valiantly for perfect love and perfect contrition. But just as sure as the will embraces God in love,, so the mind is united to Him. in divine faith. God Overlobked However, in. our very zeal for the faith we incline to overlook this intellectual union with God. Bechuse of our tendency to concentrate on the truth, we are quite apt to forget God revealing and even God revealed. Nowadays with so many facilities for stu'dying our religion, wi,th so much urging to understand it and to be able to explain it, we are particularly inclined to focus'attention on its e~pla- 302 September, 1946 Hov~ IS YOUR FAITHi' nation or on a set of questions, thus.overlooking its divine Author as well as tl~e Reality revealed. Quite regularly it happens that, while probing the depths of-the mystery of the Trinity and answering objections proposed, we never even think of the Triune God. Or to take another setting, how many ever think to re, pel a. temptation against faith with: Can'I possibly doubt God's word? Only too.many, terrori.zed by the temptation against faith, wrestle with the truth itself, trying to comprehend, for example, how Christ can be really present in the Eucharist. The Church's Contribution What may prove another obstacle to the union of faith is the relation of the Church to our belief. If this is not dearly understood, it confuses us and may lead even to the Church's supplanting God in our mental attitude towards matters of faith. Any number of Catholics would sub-scribe to: "Because the infallible Church teaches "this doc-trine, it is true, and I believe it." By stopping there the~, profess faith in the Church's teaching with6ut advertence to the real.motive of faith. Following an accepted axiom in the Church th~at prayer conforms to truth (lex orandi, lex credendi), we can verify the motive from our ordinary act of faith: "I believe what the Church teaches, because Thou hast revealed it." Hence the act of faith in its full-ness erriphasizes God's place: "Because God has revealed this, it is true, and I believeAt." " To cede God's place to the Church, even unwittingly, is to lose the advantage'of the. power, beauty, intimacy, and the vision of faith; the com- -'munication of the divine mind to ours. Even though by faith we see God only as "a confused reflection in a mirror" (I Corinthians 13: 12), still it is God, as surely and really as if we saw Him face to face in heaven, and it is He who revealed the reflection. ~ 303 - PATRICK M, REGAN ,.~ Review for 'Religious ,,~; The~primary'office, of the Church is to give us an in,, fallibl guarantee', "This is God's~ messa.ge:r' , This prd: nouncement ig;for ub but a stage On the.way to faith; we must not make-it, a,~ goal. Pius IX in his definition of the Immaculate Conception emphhsized tile duty of.submission both, to the:Chu¢ch and to God;, to fail in the :latter.means, shipwreck for" the faith; °to fail in~ th~ former in~ w6id, w}itihg or ex~er, nal act subjects the offender to alLpefialties of Church Law. ~. The Church's contribution is further cl~irified by St. Paul's distinction: "It was for me to plant the seed, for Apollo to water it, but it was God ~vho gave the increase" (I Corinthians 3: 6). Like:~paul's, the Church!s missi6n is limited to Planting the seed and wateriffg it; it is gtill God who gives the increase. W~ too must beware the error of ¯ Corinth, decried by Paul: "Why, what is Apollo,. What Paul? Only ~the mlnis~er of God in whom your faith rests,. who have brought the.faith to each of you in the measure God granted" (I Corinthians 3:5). We must beware mistaking the gardener for God, to whom the life and. beauty of faith's garden is.realjy doe, Incidentally, we must 'also guard lest the beauty of the flowers of revealed: truth blind us to the beauty of God from whom all beauty comes. Contact with God .One more comparison will clarify and emphasize this ¯ fa~t of intellectual contact with God in faith., A telephffne operatorrs main work is to connect us With our party; tha( done, she maintains the connection and.finally breaks it ,at th~ e'nd of the conversation. While, the office of the infal-lible. :teaching Church' is .far more important than an operator's, involving~fa~, greater power arid ac'tivity,, still there is a :resemblance. It consists in this that the first duty and wish of the Church is to put us in communication with 304 Septe~b'er, 1946o HOW IS 'YbOR FAITHi~ Gbd. ~:Of::~burse,.i ~minirhizing ~her activity wand influence must be,.avoided., She is.not'.,a mechariic~il operhtor,:merely establishing communi~ation Vcith God,that wbuld involve exclusi~cely private 'in~piration. ~ind ~inter~pretatiofi' for a.n3? and.all. No,: she is God%~.own:guardian Of. the whole of His message, teaching it .~ithout possibility 6f er'~or to~.all men, ~xplaining" it, adapting it to our understar;ding, and applyirig,itto current problems. Thus, as mediator ' of God's truth," she is~ His supernatural instrum~nt~ for many~ an i~nspiration and clearer interpretation* in individual souls. -God's then is the,task of love,~'to aid the intellect, engaged with the dogma proposed by the Chu°r~h, to a free assent, and then to admit it~to the mysterious, counsels of the Trinity. It is the: ope~ration of His~ grace, ~silent, effica-cious, mysterious, as is every great work of G6d. Message of the Inffividu~t " Wha(has the individual to say to God, once he has con-tacted. Him th~rodgh the Church? By-passing theological ~ontroversies on ~he prea,~ble.s of faith and on the act i~self, we may say its ~es~a.ge~would be briefly: "Eord, through your Church I have learned of your r~velation to men, now contained in Scripture and tradition. Thes( truths-=I believe because You have revealed them wh~ 'can neither deceive nor be deceived. But more importan~ still, since Your truth is li~ing reality, I wish~ to explore:itslength ~:~ ' an~ ~ ~ depth, b~ead~h and height for. a ~f~r clearer~ arid m~r~ in-timate apprehension. On the Church I rely for explanation. direction, exhortation; but it is only by communicating "with You that I can share more fully in the knowledge of Your intimate nature." Faith Must Grow This contact established, answering divine communi= cationsare set in~mbtion as God through graces and~ inspi: 305 PATRICK M. REGAN ~ Reoi~to for Relioious rations opens .up new vistas of ~,understanding. for the believing soul.,~ To be sure, the.soul mustkeep the line of communication operi throi~gh an attentive mind, remem-bering a distracted or disinterested mind cannot capture the full imports of a messa.ge. This dedper, understanding cbmes, .therefore, during periods of special activity in spiritual matters: in meditation, in vocal prayer, during periods of recollection~, during attentive reading or listening to sermons; in. time of Mass, Communion, thi~nksgiving. Particularly. a recollected rnihd will be quick to recognize God's~inspiratibn, desiroias of profiting by it. Very. rich and elevat~ed is this concept of divifie faith ~:ompared to the all-too-frequent notion that it is mainly a vice-like grip on revealed truth. Thus many 'err in thinking that the more we grit our teeth and. the tighter we clench our fists, the strdnger our faith. Such an attitude exposes faith to the danger .of becoming a lifeless formality., a bone clenched between the teeth; it saps its vitality and dynamic force. In this atmosphere profession of faith can "quickly deteriorate into, "I believe, and that's that; now to Catholic Action, study clubs~ social.uplift, and the rest of the Church's activity." "I believe" should introduce the intellect to a whole world of reality, which like a greaLpainting grows on us through contemplating it. "Gbd revealed" ,challenges the mind to intense activity and will tax it to the limit~ of its capac.ity. Co-operating with "God revealing" by being ever attentive-to His illuminati6ns, we stimulate our life of faith, growing to fuller comprehension of the Reality that is God. In this manner our mental gaze is focused on the God-man,.forinstance, not as He appears in thee light of weak human reason -an-historical personage of the past but, as He is comprehended in all His mysteriousness by God Himself. For in this ihtimate union of faith, God shares 306 September, 1946~ HOW IS YOUR F~AIT~I.;' His own knowledge with us. It is quite detrimental, therefore, to the whole spiritual life to mistake faith as mainly tenacity in clinging to revealed truth. While~striving for ~the union of love, our minds do not meet God's to participate in its treasures. ' To be sure, tenacity has its own importance since we must hold ,fast to the faith. But revelation is not a bodyof truth delivered two thousand years ago, passed on from age I~o age as a sort of sacred fossil guarded by the Church, and exhib~ ited to our astonished gaze as an archaeological phenom-enon. True, "God revealed" does not change; there is no change in the Three Persons who are God. But our knowl-edge of '-'God revealed" changes, and that very rhuch, if we nurture it zealously to a robust growth; in fact, it will neve~ cease to grow as long as we tend it. Even in the Church there has been development in ufiderstanding doc-trine since the time of the Apos, tles, for living truth must grow. Our own individual growth must be fostered by a mind attentiv~ and a will docile to divine illuhaination; necessary too is our own burning desire and resolute will to overcome our natural dislike for contemplating truth. Steadt:ast in Faith " ~ome~of the foregoing strictures may give the impres-sion that constancy in faith is of minor importance. Such an impressi6n would be erroneous since tenacity has its place and importance as one of the essential properti~es of faith. Thus millions of martyrs through the centuries demonstrate and emphasize the need of cons(ancy; because they professed the faith even in the jaws of death, they were gloriously, crowned. This constancy is also living and dynamic enabling us to face the trials and difficulties of faith perseveringly to the end. It involves cooperation with God's activity in our souls. ~ This constancy, as a living thing, must also grow. For 307 P2(TRiCK-M. REGAN Ret~ieto [or Rel]oiou~ -one ~hi~g it will grow apace with our increasing intellectual apptehensior~ of God's.mysteries through our grac.e-assisted contemplation'of truth. The more peni~trating our. faith and the more real, the~deeper our convictions that make. for steadfastness: :No man.ever,laid down his life for a cold, unrealized .proposition; 'but millions; have died for God who through faith, bec~ime a g~eat and loved reality. ~Every element~,of,~.faith, therefore, must ,be ~arefull~r fostered to ~ttain full and healthy growth. God sets no limits to 'His~ graces to enable-us to accomplish this: Brighter and brighter will be °the~'illuminations~as We make progress, clearer and-clearer the vision, until only a thin veil. as~ it, were separates us from th~ i~naccessible light ,of "God revealed.'[ .Co-operating generously, with grace, m~ny; a~ saint ha~ attained to that sublim~ height,of intel~ lectual realization of~':God revealed." _ . Pihs XII Exhorts The majority of us, perhaps,~are altogether tOO supine about contemplating' ~evealed truth, even fighting shy of mysteries. Pope Pius XII in his encyclical on the Mystical Body writes:. ,- So'he through empty fear look upon so profound a doctrine . (of the Mystical 'Body) as something-dangerous, and so,they fight shy of it as~ the, be~autiful-~but.~forbidden ifrtiit of,~paradis_e.~. ,It is:not s0: Mysteries-revealed~ by God. cannot: be harmful to men; nor should they remain as treasures.hidden in a field, useless.° . : These words a~one if taken seriousl~'~at f~ll face vai, u~ should.inspire us to a study of mysteries, a study which is capable of ~assisting,.us to the heights :of. contemplative u~ion.~ ~ ~ery hexf ~brds 0~ the ~offti~m~l~ this: "~ysteries ,~ve been given .from on high preqisely ,to hel~ th~ spiritugl progress of those who stud~ them ~ a ~pjrit of-piety~ This would seem to be. a fruitful_source itual advance which manz~0~erlo~k ~rneglect.," " .". - 3O8 ¯ Septelnb"er, 1946. ,, HOW IS -YdlJR"FAITH? < ,7 ,,Makir~9, G~d Real -~' This~sthdy of.mysteries; thotigh ,it can be promoted throu~gl~ ,stu~ty ,clubs, ,doctrinal ;lectures;'assimila tiv~e .readin'g, does not necessarily involve such formal methods. Inq?act, if s~iritual p'rogtess is to result, it is only ac(omplished Under the tutelage of ~God Hims~elf, "in a spiri~ of.piety," as the ~oritiff puts it. ~ A fei?vent ~so~il, 'filled vith grow, will b'e0,greatly encouraged and , orisoled by its noticeable progress in spiritual insight into mysteries. making dailymeditation in this way in.~the presence of Christ, reflecting on th~ mysteries, prayihgfor light, in-voking the ~intercession of "the saints for grace, a s0ul will t~avel far toward making God very real to itself. Nor are these" exhortations to contemplate rev.ealed truth only f6r the highly educated and'for those learned in theology. It is the only way I~o make God real to the soul. Hence many uneducated and simple people have attained . brilliant success, not 0nly canonized saints, but hidden ones als0. ~rchbish6p Goodier in his booklet, "Some Hints on Prayer," tells the story of a poor woman., bedridder~ for years. When she-first became ill she arranged some daily prayers for~ herself, resolving to say them slowly to make them go bett~r. But soon the Our Father had gr6~n so much that.it took her a wh01eweek to'get.,through it. She often prayed~ that many otlfers wot~ld"find how much¯ ~s ~hidden in'~the Our Father. Through the grace of ~.God, therefore, through patient endurance of her sufferings, and through ridding herself of haste, which according to St. Francis de Sales is the ruin bf devotion, this poor, uneducated-woman reached "sublime heights of contempla-tion. Week after week the mystery of the fatherhoodof . G6d and the brotherhood of men.filled her thoughts as the ~reat reality it is. Her method was simplicity itself, yet few follow her example. _: ~ ~09 PATRICK M. REGAN Review for Religious Method. of Vatican Council The identical method for the st-udy of mysteries, explained in more technical language, is outlined in the encyclical: For, as the Vatican Council teaches, ;'reason illumined by faith, if it seeks earnestly, piously and wisely, does attain, under God, to a certaiti knowled, ge.and a most helpful knowledge of mysteries, by considering their analogy with what it knows naturally, and their mutual relations and their common relation with man's last end," although, as the same hol~r Synod observes, reason even thus illumined ~'is never made capable of understanding these mysteries as it does those truths which form its proper object." Undoubtedly, the poor woman in meditating the fatherhood of God was unaware she was using analogy and was integrating the mysteries, but she did that nonetheless. There is no other Way. Application Even a few meditations on this method of studying revealed mysteries would bring immediate advantage to any soul striving for spiritual progress. Such considerations as the following would be profitable: ( 1 ) Since an ecumen-ical council proposes this method and stamps it With its approval, we have antecedent certitude of its efficacy. (2) The first requisite is to "seek," and this involves the intellectual effort always required in the search for truth. (3) We must be "earnest, pious, wise" (each word fur-riishes enough matter for a meditation) in our search. (4) All'this leads to "a certain knowledge .and a helpful knowledge of mysteries." Having pkescribed the proper attitude and indicated the certain goal, the council then tells us how this is to be reached. Three lines of procedure are indicated._ .We must consider,the analogy of mysteries with what we know naturally. " Since God is mirrored in His creation, we can consequently always find at least a faint resemblance" 310 September, 1946 HOW IS YOUR FAITH? . for a mental take-off into the stratosphere of divine reality. The shamrock,indeed, has but a very remote resemblance to the Trinity; yet St. Patrick, according to tradition, used it successfully tb teach that mystery to the Irish. St. Augus-fine's mirror of the Trinity was the human soul with its being, knowing, willing. Ever.y successflil catechism teacher has learned by experience the practical value of clear, striking examples, which is nothing else but the method of analogy applied. The second line of procedure indicated b~ the Vatican Council is to consider the "mutual relations of mysteries." Thus a consideration of the relation of the Trinity to the Incarnation, of this to the Redemption, of this to the Mysr tical Body (to indicate only one .chain of mysteries) will astonish most of us by the abundant fruits of progress in knowledge of God. , The third line of procedure is a consideration of the "common relation of mysteries with man's last end." It too will delight us with the new superna[ural world it pre-sents to our wondering gaze. An Example An outstanding example of .the application of this method is to be found in the encyclical on the Mystical Body itself. This doctrine .is a strict mystery.involving very many other revealed mysteries. The main purpose of-the encyclical is to explain the doctrine. The entire first part is an explanation in three sections of the terms, ,Body," "of Christ," and "Mystical." The explanation of "Body" is an unfolding of the analogy of this Body to physical and moral bodies found amongst us. "Of Christ" is explained .by interrelating the mysteries of the Incarna~ tion, redemption, and sanctification to our union with Christ :for our eternal salvation. "Mystical" summarizes the two preceding expl~inations. Other mysteries involved 31i PATRICK M. "REc.~N Re~ieu~ for Religious in .the furtherexplanation are: union in faith, hope, and charity through .the Holy Spirit, the divine indwelling, and the sacrifice, of the Mass. An Application The" very intellectual life of faith we are treating is mysterious. It will not be amiss to apply what we have been l~earning from the° Vi~tican Council to throw new light on it. We shall employ an analogy. Suppose a sci-entist made a radar contact with an inhabited planet~ learning much of the nature of the place ahd its inhabitants. This scientist ~e would accept as an authqrity, studying with avidity the information he 1Sassed on. We would be most eager for mdre and more informati6n, ff by some chance" the ficientist enabled us personally ti~ communicatd in amystefious way with the ~uler of the. planet, we would seize every opportunity with miser's greed. Slow and imperfect though the method might be, we would l~atiently persevere, wqlcoming every new. bit of information, rejoic-ing that first crude ideas were being gradually clarifiedl Now the Church presents us th~ revealed facts of heaven, its citizens, its nature. As intermediary she guar-antees °the facts as ,revealed by God. The personal com-munication with God she makes.possible to us,~and, daily we speak familiarly with God, His Mother, the angels, and the saints. "We really live in .that atmosphere of the super~ nati~ral life, with God 'and its ~charac_ters growing more and more. real:with the passing of time~ Surely it all should~ be as ;~ctual as'any ~tadar communication'with a distant planet might be. : " ° '~ " ~ " ~' A East Applicatio~n But ,.rfght here on earth there is quite a bi.t Of heaven,," what with, the~. ~r.ii~ity ~indwellifig in our souls, the, Real Presence, the Holy Sacrifice. The Adoro Te of St. Thomas 312 September, 1946 How IS YOUR FAITh? Aquinas will furnish bur last application: Sight, touch and taste in Thee are each deceived, The ear alone most safel~l is believed, I believe all the Son of. God has spoken Than Truth's own word there is no truer token. If a blind man lived in paradise, how eagerly he would Hsten to every description and explanation of his surround-ings. His would be a very real world; and he would act accordingly, e.njoying every delight to the utmost of his limited capacity. In fadt' his very handicap would result -in sharpening other faculties" to chmpensate for his defect of vision. His prayer would be-ceaseless for full vision. his ~whole b~ing rejoicln~ at °every slightest advance to the goal. Now it is an astoun~dirig reality that every element of the beatific vision is so proximate to us. With Father, Son, and Holy Spirit dwelling in us through sanctifying grace, only mortal bodies and the obscurity of faith prevent full vision. This will come after we pass through the portal of death; but meanwhile immelisurable p~rogress toward vision is within our pdwer. T.he blind man is hopeless compared to us aided by God revealing Himself to us ceaselessly. How is 'Your Faith? In the light o~f all that has gone b~fore, we should be able to get a clear picture of the st/fie of our ow.n intellectual life of faith. ~re are halrdly in the class of those outside 'the fold for.whom God .means so little in faith and religion that freedom of reli~i.on means .the right to choose any re!igion you like. But if faith is mere words, a jumble.of words wi.tb no~.'ireality ~be~ind them, if praye~ is nothi~ng.but the droning of words, and spiritual reading a study of literary form and style, then God is'not a great r~ality in our, spit,] itual life. But perhaps many do actually glimpse a vague vision 31,3 PATRICK M~ REGAN of God as a great reality. Their faith Will still be weak unless daily they exert themselves constantly to keep in contact with "God revealing" Himself personally to them. This is our life's work and, faithfully followed, it leads to great heights. While checking the foregoing, we can also profitably~ examine our attitude towards the office of the Church and towards~ the function of steadfastness in our faith. All will be well if we find that for us faith is a first link with a supernatural world that is very real, and that through grace we contemplate that world, making God ever more real to us. In such a case we will welcome the helpful sug-gestions of the Vatican Council for studying mysteries, and the exhortation of our Holy Father to do this in a spirit of piety to promote our spiritual progress. In Case You Donq: Know ~Twelve years ago the Salvatorian Fathers inaugurated ~he devotion known as the "Priest's Saturday." It consists essentially in offering Holy Mass, Hbly Com-munion, all prayers, labors, sacrifices, joys, and sorrows on the Saturday f011owing the First Friday of each month for the sanctification of all priests and students for the priesthood throughout the world. Literature explaining the devotion in detail may be obtained from the Salvatorian Fathers, Publishing Department, St. Nazianz0 Wisconsin. "To de~,elop in souls a strong permanent devotion toward Our Lord in the Sacrament of His Love by concentrating attention on the Eucharist during thirty consecutive days," the Fathers of.the Blessed Sacrament organized a movement, which is now enriched with indulgences, fo~ the observance of April as the "Month of the Holy Eucharist." For full information wirite to.the Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament, Desk: M.H.E., 184 East 76th Street, New York 2, N. Y~ ~ new quarterly review, Catholic Action, is now published to provid~ for the special conditions, needL and opportunities of Catholic Action in India. The magazie is published at 2, Armenian Street, George Town, Madras, India. Ann.ual Subs.cription Re. 1-4-0. Our Lady's Press Mart, P. O. Box 122, Passaic, New 3ersey, offers gratis attractive "Go to Mass Sunday" ~tamps suitable for use on letters, packages, and so forth. Requests for stamps must be accompanied by a self-addressed stamped envelope. 314 On Reading a!: e Claude Kean, O.F.M. ~T CAN hardly fail to Strike the newcomer to religious life as odd--this reading aloud of pious books during meals. What, he wonders, is the purpose of it? Is it to expedite meals? Or to safeguard communal charity? Or to expiate the self-concession inherent in eating? Or, at least on fast days, to divert the mind from the menu? It is not long, of course, till he finds the answer: that, just as restaurants add music to meals for the consumer's pleasure, religious refectories add reading to meals for the consumer's profit. This profit can,. undoubtedly, be substantial. The refectory reading can draw our minds, after a morning or an afternoon of distracting duties, back from the perimeter of religious life to the Center; can "knit up the the ravell'd sleave of care"; can freshen our spirit and fill anew the wells of our motives. But it can do these things only if several conditions--quite .obvious, yet quite often ignored are posited. First, the reading must be heard. Normally, it will be heard if the reader observes Father Pardow's simple rubric: Open, your mouth, and,read slowly. There is the whole crux of the matter. A lectern, rightly placed, can help; and, in large refectories, a public-address system can help even more. But, as trained actors have proved a thousand times over in whispered lines, the audibility of a voice depends not primarily on bigness of volume, but on sharp-ness of diction. Barring marked impediments of speech, then, there is not one reader in the religious community who cannot be easily understood if, in the phrase of Canon Sheehan, he will "~bite off:. his words, as riflemen bite their 315 CLAUDE KEAN Review for Religio'~s cartridges,, and chisel:every~ consonant, and giv~ full scope to every vowel. Nekt to ~nunciation comes .interpretation. It would seem that, under this heading, a curious tradition governs mu~b bf our refectory reading:xhe traditiori°ofut'ter~.imp~r~: sonali'ty. Perhaps from"promptings~of humility, we'strive to sou:nd not like ourselves Or. lille any recognizable person at all, but like some generic concept of a religious. To that end we affect a voice suggestive of a~cold in the head: a voice - that is toneless, lifeless, remote, altogether detached from its posseskor; a voice that, shorn of allaccidents, comes forth before mafiklnd as a, sheer essence. We read .every word like every other word. We reduce all the author's thoughts " to a common denominator of impassivity. His challenging ~question-marks and his indighant exclamation-points w.e turn ~like'into prosaic periods. If dialog odcurs, we flatten it into monolog. If we come to a passage of poetic beauty.- we read it as dispiritedly as though w~ were reading the cdnstitutions of the community. And this is.passing strange. An hour or two ago, in a classroom, We read aloud a story so imaginatively that our young listeners hung on our every word; and now, inca refectory; we read aloud another story, or at least another book, so'perfunctoriIy that our religious hearers nod' over their plates. Why the sudden declension.from Dr.Jekyll to~'Mr.' Hyde? °WSy the horreht change~ fro~ entirely natfiral reading to entirely unnatural chanting? from a "stylethat vivifies a text to a style.l:hat embalms it? We .are, indeed, not to "tear passion t6 tatters" in our reading: we are not to over-read. -~But neither are we to under;read. Good reading is nothing but intelligent reading. And religious self-effacement demands neither the privat.e nor the public abstention from the. use of intelligence. The Horation precept still' holds: ""If you want me ,to 316 ~epte~nber, 1946 ON READING AT TABLE weep, yoti yourself" must-first grlev .'- The :interested listener still 15resupposes'the interested reader. A,nd, instead of a. drably~ ascetic feature of our daily schedule, what a profitable and pleasurable pastime might our table reading become if all our readers were, to read, not "in.,mournful numbers," but,in~tories thatovariously "echoed the sense" Of what. they read! Much of the prosperity_ of reading, it is true, depends upon the book: And 14ere let superiors remember that books, like music, fit particular purposes and occasions. Bach and Beethoven and B'rahms are masterly music indeed; but, as tests have proved (as though proof were needed!-), they are not good dinner music:, The subtlety of Bach~ tl'ie e/no-. tional inten~ity~of.Beethoven, the massiveness of' Brahms impede digestion, instead of promoting it. On the other hand, Strausi is ggod dinner music:~ for the most part light-some; melodious, and not too profound. In'a similar~ay, many books of devotion, :though in themselves excellent;-are not good table reading. -Contro-versial works aye not, nor are scholarly works of apologet-ics, nor are solid treatises on asceticism. Close concentration and happy digestion do not get along well together. Saint FranCis de gales, .for "that~ reason, advises against mental prayer ~immediately after a. meal, "before digestion-, is adxianced;" .citing.~not Only the diffidulty of concentration when-ori~:is "heavy .and drowsy," but the positive danger to.14ealthinoit. And is it hot at[ least conceivable thxt.some off,the stomach ~disofde'rs n'ot uncommon.among religious can~be~ofra~ed0to the tieayy.literary fare.serv_ed at our m~als.: thd .bookS:of unrelenti.ng s¢tf-an, alysis,.~the pon~derousotrea-tises on ,th~'~irows,; the.~un.relie.vedly.,statistical bi~graphi~sof the'saints? ~ ¯ One mother superior told the writer not long ago that, weary of high and dry books, she had appointed for table 3 CLAUDE KEAN reading an excelleiit novel by an excellent novelist, White Fire, by FatherE. J. Edwards. S.V.D. Though a few rigogists in the communiyy frowned at the, innovation; the majority of the sisters rejoiced. Here, for once, was a book to which they could listen without effort; indeed, a book which they could follow daily with bated interest and yet not without genuine spiritual profit. From the trials of a real flesh-and-blood nun, "Sister Agnes," they derived more practical wisdom than from whole libraries of abstract ascetics: Would the ~xperiment of that superior not be ~orth duplicating in al! communities? Is it against a book that it excite interest? that on occasiofi it even provoke good-humoredlaughter? Must we eoer eat our bread in serious-. nes~ and sorrow, as though joy w~re not a gift of theHoly Ghost? If Our Lord "taught in parables," is it undignified for us to listen to parables in the form of religious nov.els? If almost every word that He utterid was fringed with the pictoriM and often even the poetic, do we indulge in unseemly leyity by preferring the colorful and concrete religious bool( to the vaporous and abstract? We,live in an age of excellent, Catholic writing: of first;rate biographies[ such as .Walsh's Theresa of Aoila. Feeney's American Woman, Maynard's Too Small a World, O'Brien's Enter Saint Antl~on!1,~Sargent's Mitri, Repplier's dunipero Sera or Mere. Marie of the Ursulines; of well-Written novels, such as'those of Benson and Shee-ban and more recent writers like Edwards; of attractive works of apologetics, such as thoseof Chesterton and Lunn; of Nell-edited Catholic rnagazines and papers, replete with articles of current "interest and importance. Why, in the midst of such plenty, should we keep to a starvation diet? 318 ' Preparing t:or t:he Lay Apos!:oh !:e 3ohn A. Hardon, S.3. SOME time ago, one thousand Detroit public high school students and their teachers filled the Rackham Memorial Hall to listen to the devout recitation.of the Hail Mary! The Ave Maria was part of a dramatic story a young man was telling about a Canadian commando who seems to have been miraculous!~ cured of blindness by our Blessed Mother. o How did such a Catholic subject as. devotion to Mary ever get a hearing in a public speech exhibition? before an auditorium full of non_-Catholics? and .the whole affa~ir sponsored by a large secular university? The answer-is: Catholic Action through t~e Sodality. We must all be aware of the interest manifested by the late Holy Father and by the present Pontiff in the forming of a lay apostolate and of their wish that the Catholic school be made a training ground for such an apostolate. These facts were made quite evident by the letter to the superiors general of all religious institutes on the "Pro-motion of Catholic Action.'~' This letter, written in 1936 by the Cardinal Secretary of State in the name of Plus XI, was quoted in full in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (September, 1945), and was accom-panied by a very complete commentary by Father F~fincis B. Don-nelly. It is one thing to know the fact that the Holy See. wishes our Catholic schools to be a training groun~ for the formation Of lay apostles; it is quite another thing to determine the meang o~f accom-plishing this purpose. Space fdrbids our giving ~ here an extended study of all the different ways in which training lay apostles can be integrated into the regular program of a Catholic grammar school, high school, or college. There are many methods of doing this:, and the teacher's own ingenuity will suggest scores of ways besides the one here detailed. But the writer's experience is limited to the effective-ness of one method of" dovetailing Catholic Action with Catholic education. The method in question is extra-curricular speech wbrk in high school elocution and debatifig. Elocution in its variant fo~ms---oratory, declama'tion, and dra- 319 JOHN A. HARDON Review for Religious matic dialog has long been recognized as an excellent medium for "d~vel6}ing the-intellectual and emotional talents of young students. But it can b'e much more than that. It can become the instrument f~f~aining"them tO give'that evidence of the faith within them of which we'American Catholics are so sorely in need. Once a teachdr df eloquence becomes convinced that his or her trainees can be inspired by higher ideals than mere excellence in vocal expression, then what began as-at~ elementary ~btirse in speech:culture become~ overnigh~'~ dyn~'.mi~ an~t almost r~sistless force of tl~e 'apostolate. No secular sub-jec(, be'it ever so nbble, has the power ofqhspiring young minds with ~the s~me enthusiasm that is evoked by the simplest truths of our ¯ Catholic 'faith. But there is more than inspirational value to this change of atti-tudd. As soon as a definite apostolic turn is given to elocution sub-ject matter ~nd technique, oppdrtunities will be found without even lookir~g'for them top~ut the ammumnon°t9 immediate use. In many ci'ti~'s tl~er°~ are forensic l~a.gues with mixed Catholic and non- Cat.holic membership. Ih such places Catholic studenf's have all the room they.w.ant to give express.ion to the ideals and principles of the religion th,ey profess/ This does not mean that every elocution, piece ips9 fdcto becomes a vehicle for Catholic propaganda: but it does ,mean that eyeiy speech cariies.enough of the substance of the faith to impress the ndn-Catholic 'audience that, "Here i~ something dif-fe'rdnt. It's good:and it's Catholic: ': " 3~V'hen,. for ek.ample, a young man gives 'a,n' oratorical piece like "T'h~ Easter 'Message from Co'r~regidor~'' even the most blas~ are bound to li~te~n sy~mpatbetica, lly. He quotes, the words of the an-nouncer of the Voice ~'o~ Freedom thht" fateful Easter morning of 1942: "People of the Philippines, .do nbt despair. Your deliverance is near at hand. Likh your Mas~t~r before°':you, you have been betrayed into the hands of your enemies. Like your Lord and Mas-~ tel you have been beaten and tortured and put to death. But like Him tOO, you will soon rise again to a glory and a peace that you have never known before. People of the Philippines do not despair." When words like that are spoken,, it doesn't take a Catholic or iven a Christian to appreciate the depth of human, feeling hidden behind ihem. But the important thing for our purpose is that they were_ originally spoken-by a devout Catholic, Colonel Romulo, aide to the late President Quezon of the Philippines. And they carry the sub- 320 September, 1946 PREPARING LAY APosTLES stance of a penetrating truth: the rederfiption of mankind by the death of Christ on the, Cross. So much for elocution as a suitable medium for cultivating~the apostolic spirii in our students by .giving them first hand oppor-tunities of'putting this spirit into practice. Another means'that has _been found even more effective in this respect is interscholastic debating. As an outlet for Catholic ~Action, debating is~only just beginning to be exploite~d .by our teaches of forensics. A case in point is the State of Michigan where out of two hundred high schools in the'forensic league all but five or so are secular institu-tions. .This argues to~ an oversight somewhere. Either the p~blic schools are~ misguided in the emphasis they place on" forensics, or we Catholics have not yet come to realize that there are more than~ edu-cational possibilities hidden in this field. It may sound romantic to talk about high school teensters,getting up in a ~ublic forum to defend some elemental troth like the charity of Christ in a godless world. But they doit. The aildience may be indifferent or unfriendly, and there is always the clever witticism to take from "the gentleman on the opposition." This offers no diffi-culty at all. The teensters enjoy the smell of battle aiid soon develop a cast of mind that practically nullifies a purely secular approach to'any stibject, political, social, or economic. Many examples could be given to illustrate the effectiveness of debating as an entree into the lay apostolate. On one occasion, during a city wide tournament, twelve of our debaters were defending Pope Pius XII's Five-Point Plan for World peace.Their opponents were eight ottier groups of high school students from as many dif-ferent secular institutions. One of the coaches openly criticized the program our young men were following: "Cut out that religion stuff. R~ligion is all right iri church, but it has no place on a debate platform. If~you want to get any decision from the judges, you'd better change your method of argument. ,You'll never win a debate that"way." Well, he was wrong; because the young Ciceros not only Won a debate but ran off'with the whole.tournament. Another timei~while debating with an out-of-town fsublic school on thd'question of a federal world government, the,first speaker on the affirmative did not defend.the affirmative. He brok~ into a tirade that lasted ten minutes, defending a world order in ~vhicb the Providence of God woul~l' not"be recognized. "What has .religion got us any-way~ Nothing but wars 'and misery: After all, we are masters of 321 JOHN A. HARDON Reoieto for Religious our own destiny. Let us work out a plan of world peace in which every notion of a power higher than man's will be scuttled." This might have beeh ranting nonsense, except that the poor fellow was dead serious about what hewas saying. The logical thing for our first speaker to do was to forget all about his own prepared talk 'and answer the blasphemy. So be spent his ten minutes of allbted time defending, not a substitute for a world government, but the recog-nition of Almighty God in the world which He created. Incidentally there is a peculiar significance in th~ choice of sub-jects or resolutions for. interscholastic debates. Individual schools do not choose a subject but the choice is made for them, apparentl~, through the National Educational Association and according to the recommendation of the Federal Government. Only one subject is given out each" year. It is the same for all the high schools and col- . leges throughout the country, As a matter of policy, the annual debate topic is being discussed in Congress during the very time that student polemists are threshing out the subject among themselves. All of th~s is part of our democratic system, whereby national issues are first ~ired among thg people before official action is taken upon ¯ them by the government. This emphasizes the.importance of our Catholic schools' . taking advantage of their democratic privilege to instil some of the principles of Christ into the minds and hearts of those who hardly know Him. And along with this positive indoc-trination of others, the students are training themselves to become what the late Holy Father made bold to call, "Bearers of light, helpers of the Holy Spirit, auxiliary light-armed soldiers of the Church."' A word is in place on the ranks from which the young men' were drawn for this basic training in the apostolate that we have reviewed. They were Sodalists, actively interested in promotiiag the apostolic aims of the Sodality. Many of them were members of a local Catholic Action cell where they received the backgroflnd and inspiration necessary to appear in public as youthful exponents of their faith. It took courage to do what they did; but the courage was never lacking. Sometimes their efforts were repaid with the high compliment of imitation. They might come back to a return engagement in debate and listen to the opposition non-Catholic, of course defending -the Pope as" an authority in politics and the social sciences. , An objection might be raised that it is time enough to introduce Catholic students inl~o the lay apostolate after they have finished their 322 September, 1946 PREPARING LAY APOSTLES formal studies. Then too there is the question whether the secular clergy and not religious are to take the 15fimar~r'.and~almost exclusive initiative in the promotion of Catholic Action. To both these ques-tions we have the authoritative answer of Plus XI in~his Apostolic Letter to the Brazilian hierarchy, October 27, 1935. His words deserve to be me, moriz, ed ~by every religious who is sincerely interested in th~ apostolate of the laity: "Surely the most p6werful and far-flung support o~f Catl~oli~ Action may be expected from the numerous religious institutes of men and vi'omen wl~ich have already rendered such signal services to the'Church . Religiofis men and women will he!p'Catholic Action in.~a very.spec!al way if they strive to prepare for it from their earF, est years the boys and girls whom they have in their schools and academies. These young people should at first be g~ntlV drawn to a desire for the apostolate, and then should be steadily ~nd earnestly urged to join the associations of Catholic. Action; and ,where such associations are wanting, they should be promoted by the religibus tb~rnselt~. Surely there is no bettdr way and no better opportunity for training young people in Catholic Actioia, than those which exist in schobls and cblleges.~' -One las~"pbint needs to be cleared up. The objection might be made that our Catholic schools already have as many organizations as the student body and teachers can manage. More additions would be useless'~here they would not be a positive.burden. In any case, there is no rriore room for organizations of a spe.cifically apostolic, cl'iar-acter. It will have been noticed in the present review of "apostolized'" speech activities that they were first and foremost,a sodality activity, o In other words, promoting the work of the apostolate among our students can and in most cases.should be the immediate work of school organizations which are riot. 0penly and avowedly "Catholic Actionist." Pius XI is explicit on this point, in the letter which he wrote to the Hierarchy of Brazil iff 1935. Touching this very ques-tion, he says: "Thus also the associations and institutions which have for their purpose the spread of piety, the teaching of Christian doc-trine, or any other form of social apos~01ate, will bec6me ai~xiliary forces of Catholic Action. and without departing in any way from each one's peculiar sphere, will happily secure that concord and har-mony, that organized co-operation, and that mutual understanding, which We have ceaselessly recommended." 323 . ur Lady s Rosary . A Adam C.-ElliS, S.J:,, ". "- ~ . . ~ " ~C~6BER is. t~e', month~ p~ OuE Lady'~ Rbs~ry. Throfighout ~the Catholic ~world pri~st~,,-,.rgligio~s~ and men and~women of,every walk of life vie with ~ach other to,do honor to ~Our Lady by the daily recitation "0f the ros?ry? R may be hel~ful-~as-a ~timulant ~'for 6u~ ~evo~i6n,~'t6~re~all the 6rigin, hature; and onditi6ns of this p0pp[ar devotion. , . .~ ~ . . :, ~- ° ~" " " o The Our Father ¯ T~e most . precl,o, us of~fie 3ral pr ~r~ ~n t~ tr~as~r tb~.~Ch~r~h ,is un~oubt~)y th~ Q6r.Fath~T. ~Cbri~t Him; s~l~ taught this prayer to His,disciples when they ~arn~stly as~d~Hxm.: ;Eord~.;~acb' 6s to pray,~ ~wn as ~ohn~likd~is~ ta~t,~i~ 'disqi~l~s" (U~k~ 1'i": '1~) :~" '~nd'th~'~t~Xv%~ ~or~-s Prayer as g~wn to.us by Saint Matthew m hxs Gos-pel'S( 6:9-.13) became the daffy prayer ~, tile first.Chns~ fiansz.as, w~ll,as,~o~ alhth~ ~a.kh~Ldo~-,.through ,th~ ~n~ "" I( We f&~ll'that :6~"~t3 the~l~ttdr half'of ~ntur~, ~h~ ~h~ art ot p~ntmg. ~s ~nwnt~d, ~only th~ nob~l~t~ could r~ad.an~ wnt~, a r~. not surprised; to l~arn that,th~ p~i~cip~! d~vo~ion~ ~a~th~ul~ at~.larg~was.,th~ r~p~tition~o~ th~ Ofir Fath~i~ th~ 9~ghth c~ntury, th~ p~mt~nt~als, .or books.r~lat~ng t0 p~mt~nts, pr~scr~o~d, var~ous p~nanc~s ot tw~nty,,,ntty, o~ mor~ Pat~r.Nost~rs. ~gain, in th~ cours~ o~ th~ early.c~n-turi~ s o~"t~ ~Middl~ ~.g~s~ w~n-.th~ lay 'brothers "in r~ligious orders b~cam~ .distinct ~mm'~h~ choir mofiks~ th~ ~orm~r, who w~r~ illiterate, r~cit~d on~ hundred and fifty 324 OUR LADY'S ROSARY ISater Nosters in~plhce'ofithe one.hundred hiid fi~ty psalms which were recited .in choir.as part ,of" the~DixCine O~ce. O~rig'in' and U~e of P~r B~ads use of One and the same prayer spon-a methqd Q( counting ~the number of p~ayers recited. At ~st ~e count was kept o~ one's fi~- gers. Then ~he Fathers of t~e ,Desert, following t~e example of St. Anthony, t~e F~rst Hermit, collected a.num-ber of pebbles and laid,them aside one by one as they recited t~e~r prayers. In the West th~ uAe of pebbles was soon replaced by gg~ins of bernes, seeds, bone,~or ~ood, ~attache~ to ~ach other by a cord. In~.the course of time such a string~of grains o~ beads was c~lled a paterno~ter~since it~ .~as. used ~o~t freq~e~ptly~ for the. recitation o~,,the Our Fath~r.~ .In ~be thirteenth centut~ the ~anufac~urers o~_ these,, articles. ,. ~ere known as paternosterersi and, almost everyx~here~ i~, Europe ~hey formed a recognized craft guild of consider. hble importante. P~,t3rnoster-Row in ~ondon preserves the memory of the strest in which th~.ngl~sh craft-fellows ~o~regated. That such beads ~ere in use in the ele~en~lf century is evident fr~ M~lmesbur~-who relates that the Countess Godiva bf Covehtry (circa 1075) left by w~l(to the ~statue of a certain_ monastery."the,,ci[clet 0f precious stones wfiich she. had.threaded on a cord in orderthat fin-gering them qne aft~ a~other Sh~ might count-tier, prayers exactly.'~ .The ._~ilit~rY ~orders, ~otably the. ~nights Templar of St. 3ohn, adopted the paternoster beads as p~art ~f.~he,e~uip~ent of hY members., The~e paternoster beads were also.,used ~by ,the laity in general and were,openly, carried as a s~gn~ of penance,, espdcia~ly bY b~nds of pilgrims who v~sited the ,shrines,~ churches, ~and other holy places, of Rome in procession: ~ : -" ~ 325 ADAM C. ELLIS Review/:or Religious "'Ave Maria" _or "'Hail Mary'" The .Hail Mary owes its'origin to certain pious persons who joined the words of the Angel Gabriel" with those of St. Elizabeth to form a greeti~ng and salutation in honor of the Mother of Christ, hence the name-"Angelic Salutation." It was .repeated many times in succession, accompanied by genuflections or some other.external acts of reverence. Thus a contemporary biographer of St. Albert (died 1140). tells us: "A hundred times a day he bent his knees, and fifty times he prostrated himself raising his body again by his fingers and toes, while he repeated at every genuflection: 'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.' " This form constituted the whole of the Hail Mary as then said, and"the fact that all the. words are set down in this biography seems to imply that the formula had not yet become universally familiar. But by the end of the' twelfth century it was in common use in many parts~ of Europe. Pope Urban IV, who died in 1264, granted an indul-genc~ to all Who added the'words ",Iesus Christ, Amen" to the form quoted above. It was in this form that~Thomas ~ Kempis recited the Hail Mary at the ~nd of the thirteenth cent.ury. The second half of the Hail Mary begins to appear in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. St. gernardine of Siena added to the Angelic Salutation the words: "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us.sinners;" And at the end of the fifteenth century, in an ordinance of the Arch-bishop of Mayence (1493) the longer formula, "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death, Amen" appears, perhaps for the first time. The complete form of the Hail Mary, as we have it .today, was included in the various breviaries used by the diocesan 326 September, 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY i~lergy and by the religious orders, though occasional ~light variations in form are found. This complete form is recommended b~r the Roman Catechism in 1566. It received final approval when Pope St. Pius V, in'the new edition of the Roman Breviary promulgated by him in 1568, ordered it to be recited by .all priests before the singl~ canonical hours, together with the Pater Noster. From tl~e breviary the complete form passed into general use ~amo~g the faith-ful. Rosary Beads As we saw above, the paternoster beads were used by the laity as a substitute for the Divine Office, and for this reason were sometimes called "the psalter of the laity." At the 'beginning bf the eleventh century, the custom was introduced of adding the angelic salutation to the Our Father, and for a while some of the clergy, religioias, and laity recited 50 or 150 Pater~ and Aves on the paternoster beads. Gradually thecustom of reciting 50 or 150 Aves only on the beads came into vogue, and it was probably this form of prayer which was popularized by St. Dominic at the suggestion of the Blessed Virgin. 'The Roman Breviary, in the fourth lesson for the Feast of the Most Holy Rosary, tells us ~hat when the Albigensian heresy was devastating the country of Toulouse, St. Dominic earnestly besought the help of Our Lady and Was instructed by her (so tradition asserts) to preach the Rosary among the people as an antidote to heres.y and sin. That this form of devotion was known before the birth of St. Dominic is clear especially from two sources. The first is the so-called "Mary-legends" according to one of wl~ich, ~ating bac~k to the early twelfth century, a client of Our Lady who had been wont to recite one hundred and fifty Ayes every day was bidden by her to say only fifty, but more slowly. Again 327 ADAM C. ELLIS Review for,Relioious iu~,the~'~twelfth centur¢ this form bf prayer was, recom-mended' to, the.: anchoresses of~ England-and practiced by. them, as aplSearg from the ancient Ancren Riwte which was written~abotit the middle of' the ~tw.elfth centur~y. In th~ course of:time the one.hundred and fifty beads ivhich the Ave'Maria was recited b~came distribute'd into decades~ or' seriesof ten, separated from one another by a large,grain or bead on which is r~cited a Pater Noster; and by the middle of th~ fourteenth century the use of such beads had spread rapidly. In 1469 Sixtus IV called these beads the "Psalter of Our Lady" and encouraged their u~e by grantin~ ind~ulgences. The° religious orders, notably,~, the Benedi~ctines, .t_he Cartbusians, and the.Dominicans, retaingd the use bf the b~ads made u~'~f fifteen dedades. But amon~th~e,faithful-the, o smaller beads o of. five decades., became;., popular., in¯ .~ the~ c~ourse ot~time~ The Gloria Patti .wa.s-added to each decade 9~n1~i in,~ the seventeentfi ce~n.tu~ry in Italy. The custorfi o~ reciting; the Creed, a Pater, and .three Aves a! the:beg!nnil~g of ther~s~ary, i~ l~udai~ie'; but it . is . not necessary for the g~ining of~any ind~t~lgences. It originated in Germany,'-fir~t by ~cii~i.n~ ,the Creed at the beginning, ~o ,w,bich was,a.d~$,d, about the middle Of tiae 18tb century~, a~ Pa~ter,,, and three Ayes for an increase in the three t.h,eo, logical~ virtues.-- faith, ho~e,o.~and cha~rity. In Spain a~d in Spanish spea.king countries, the Creed, Pater, and three Ayes are addedat the end of the rosary. Meditation on the. Mysteries ,.~ . Thus in its external form the rosary was established little by little; and' it was a long time bef0re.,the custom ~f meditating on the mysteries of Our Lord's ~ind Our Lady's' li~res.while saying it,was introduced.~ At the beginning of the fifteenth century a Carthusian of Wreqes is-~aid to have 328 September; 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY "first introduced into '~the: rosary a~mystery of. the-lives~of Jesus and Ma.ry by ~a, ddi~g,~some w~ord~ to the end of the first half .of the° Hail,Mar~;~. His "ros~ar~ ~as composed of-fifty, Ayes arid fifty mysteries. ~ ~s still done ~n Germany and other ~arts of the world today, the firstAve ran thus: ,.-Ha~l Mary, .full of .grace, the Lord.~s w th t~ee, blesped ar~ thou amongst )vomen, ~ndblessed ~s the frmtof thy womb, Jesus, whom, by the message qf.-the angel,~thou didst c0h: ce,ve of the Holy G~ost, Amen. Th~s innovation met w~th a hearty reception and was taken up by the faithful. ~]an ~ Rupe,,~ famous D6~nlcan preacher, CbmpoSed one hun-dr~ d ~and fif[y phrases one for each of t~e Aves of Mary s Psalter. Later these numerous mysteries were lessensd, an~ a~gq~ the year 1500 the Carthus~an Landsberger guid~.f0r the ~i~a~ion 0f ~e~r o~sary (of fi~e dec~des)' "in Wfii'ch ~e.ass~g;s'~o the:first ~tW~'decade~ the m~ditation on the p~incipal joys'6f'Mhry; for ~h~ twd fol10wing, the" meditafion on the sorrows of Jesus and.Mary; and f6r the fifth, ~he mgs~e~es of'the glor~ficatioff'~f Jesus and Mary. In 1483 we find a~'r~sary bf fifteen mYsterieso~ly~ne mys~er~6; ~each decade;" Und they c0rr~spond with Our present m~gtefies ~xqe~t for the ~last, which was the L~st Judgment instead of the Coronation of Our Lady. In~ 152:1 the D6minican, Albert 0~ Ca~tell6,:phbli'~hed ~in Italy his book 6nth~ Ro~afy.~ In it~he' indicates ,various ~ethods'6f'- saying ~he rosary; among others, that of the fifteeff teries in actual ~use today . ~ ~ In his Bu.lk0f September 17,: 1569, P0~e St.~Piu~°V for~he'first ~ti~e 0~ei~l~y~efitions meditad0n on tbe~li~s of~Chrb~'"~fi~::gf H~s M0~ber t0'~ be .m~de ~whiie :s~.in~.~th~ rosary-. ~:H~ states'.~Bat~.~p to tfiht't~me~med~tat~bn~on mysteries was not required; but he also a~rms tha~ from that d~y on'fifteen':Pat~rs ~with,dne hundred and fifty Ayes, distribute~,~in decades~ with ~editation on.rthefifteeh ~mys~ _ 329 ADAM C. ELLIS ~ Review for Religious teries, constitutes the rosary essentially. Indulgences for Saying the Rosary " The Official Collection of Indulgences, ,published by the Holy See in 1938 under the title Preces et Pia Opera lists the following indulgences which may be gained by .any Catholic who recites the rosary, even though the beads used are not blessed (No. 360) : 1. An indulgence of five years whenever a third part (five~decades) of the rosary is recited with devotion; " 2. An indulgence of ten years, once a day, whenever a third part of the rosary is recited in company with others, whether in public or in private; also a plenary indulgence on the last Sunday of each month, provided the rosary has been recited in common at least three times in any of the preceding:weeks; confession, Co~munion,'and a visit to a church or public oratory is also required to gain this plenary indulgence. 3. A plenary in~tulgence, on condition of confession and Communion, is granted to those who piously recite .a third part of the rosary in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment, either publicly exposed, or at least reserved in the tabernacle. Note one: The decades may be separated, provided the entire rosary (five or fifteen decades) is'said on one and the same day. Note tu~o: If, while reciting the rosary, the faithful are wont to use a pair of beads blessed by a. priest of the Order of, Preachers, or some "other priest having special faculties, they may gain other indulgences in addition t6 those enum-erated above. Thus far the Official Collection of Indul-gences. It may be well to mention here that ordinarily one can-not gain various indulgences attached.to one and the same 330 September, "1946 OUR LADY'S RO~ARY pious worl~ unless.one repeats the pious work for each indulgence. However, in virtue of a privilege granted by Pius X on Jurie 12, 1907, one may gain not only"the indul2 gences mentioned above but also the Dominican and the Crosier indulgences provided the beads have been specially blessed for these latter; and on February 17, 1922, Pius XI included .the Apostolic Indulgences. Jt would take too long to enumerate all the indulgences which may be attac.hed to rosaries by way of a special bles-sing. Suffice it tc; say here that the Dominican blessing enables one to gain 100 days indulgence for each Pater and Ave;j the Crosier indulgence, 500 days on. each bead. Conditions for Gaining Indulgences To gain the indulgences one must observe the following conditions: 1. One must hold a rosary in one's hand and tell the beads as the Aves are recited. This is the general rule. How-ever, if two or more persons recite the rosary in common, it suffices that one of them use a rosary to guide the recitation; but the others must abstain from all external occupation which would imp~d~ interior recollection and unite them-selves with him who holds the beads (S. Congregation of Indulgences, January 22, 1858). This condition was explained and mitigated by another rescript of the same S. Congregation (November 13, 1893) to mean that the faithful need not abstain from certain small manual tasks which are sometimes performed in .religious h6uses during the common recitation of the rosary, but only from those occupations which impede interior recollection. Even in the case of a person saying,his rosary by him-self, Pope Pius XI (October 20, 1933) "deigned to grant that, whenever either manual labor or some reasonable cause prevents the faithful from carrying in their hands 331 ADAM C. ELLIS Reoieto.[or Religio~s according to prescription, either, tbe-rosary,.'or,a crucifix which has been" blessed for the" g~iining of indulgences of l~he~.r6saby or,of ,the ~,rYray of the C, ross, the faithful ma'y gain. those indulge/aces, provided that, -during~ the recitation of the prayers in ttuestion., they carry with them in,any way,the rosary or crucifix " 2. One must m'editate On the mysteries of the rosary. This was first prescribed by Pope St. Pitis V, and was con-firmed by'Pope" Leo XIII in his Bull,on"theMost Holy Rosar~r (No. xiii). Hence. as Leo XIII~poiiated out, one must meditate on the mysteries prescribed,, not on other great truths, for example the four last things. Nor is, it sufficient to meditate on only one or two of these mysteries during the ~ecitation'of the entire ro~ary. " 'In order to'facilitate the m~ditati0n"on the mysti~ries of the rosary, the custom has been introduced of ari'/it3uncing bfiefl~r, eitlSer .bef~r~ eacl5 ide~ade; or~ after the' firsv?part of each Hail Ma~y/the-mystery of tha( decade.~ Both methods aye usi~ful; 15iat'.'. fleitlSer :is- fiecessi~ty ~f6r gaining~the indul-geflces, ~in~eito~uffices to¯ c6flsider ~h~ m-~csteries ~mentally. " Pope Be~aedict'X~I:I in hi~s coh~ti~ution Pret[osius, ~May 26, .1 727, de~lares that. Simple,pers0ns wtio are incapable m~ditati.rig off the myste'ries 'fiaay conthrit themsel~c~s with the deVou[ reditation of the ro,sa~y in. °order to giin th~ indtilg~rice's: he "adds, nevertheless," hi~-ex'p~ess ffish°th~tt such persons ~raduaily~fbrm the habit.,of meditatin'~ on hol~ mys~fies?ofoOur Redee~e~r-and6f His Bl~sed M6ther'~ con formably" to the purigose of the rosary." In: practice,' a - sincere effort t6 meditate; even if the effort fails, suffices ~ to gain the indulgences." For~ the gainiiig ~f~th~ Crosier/and Brigittine. indulgences, meditation on the mysteries is not required. . " ¯. -Among' the faithful who ,recite the ,rosary of five decades every day the custom has established itself of medi- 332 September, 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY tating°ori the joyous mysteries on Monday and Thursday; oh the sorrowful rdysteries on Tuesday and Friday; and'on the .glorious. mysteries on Sunday, Wednesday and Satur-. day. During!Advent one ,may meditate on the joyful mys-teries on Sunday~, -during Lent on the sorrowful mysteries~ 3. Thebeads Used must be of solid material,, not easily broken, Otherwise indulgence~ may not be attached to them. Glass or crystal beads may be used, provided they are solid an~d compact, (S.~ Apostolic Penitentiary, ,December 21, 1925)" The indul~gCriees'~ are~attached to the grains or beads, not to the' cbainor cord which-holds them together. Hence a pair of beads may be restrung in any order without losing 4ts indulgences. A broken bead or two may replaced from-time to time, since the indulgences are put on the beads of the rosary as a whole. Our Lad~t'~s Garland of Roses The word "rosary" means a garland, wreath, or crown of roses. An early legend, which spread over all of Europe and penetrated even-to Abyssinia, connects this name with a story of Our Lady who was seen to take rosebuds from the lips~.of~ a youpg monk, when he was reciting Hail Marys, a~nd to weave them into a garland which she placed uppn her head. Devo.ut clients of Mary like to think that the five joyful mysteries constitute a garlan.d of white roses for Our Lady, the ~sorrowful mysterigs .a garland of °red roses, and the .glorigus mys.t.eri~es a garland o~ g.olden roses. -, .LAndiOur ,Lad~r ha~ show.nher"appreciation.of this devo-tion ~y giv. ing,o,her:protection,to.the Church, at large as well as to~individual memb~rs.ino:every walk¯ of ,life. ,.P0pe St: Plus V-~.~ttributed to her. inter~ession~.~gained, through the public recitation-6f th~ rbsary, by rhembers~of the.~R-osary Confraternity marching through~th,e:,streets ofoRome;, the gte~at~,v, ictory~.0f~ the ~Chtistian forces ino:,the" Battle of ADAM C. ELLIS Review for Religious Lepanto. This battle, in" which~the sea power of the Turks was brok'~n forever, was fought on the first Sunday in October, 1571. In gratitude for the victory, ,,the Pope ordered that a CommemOration" of the Rosary be made each, year on that day. Two years later, Pope Gregory XIII, at tl-ie request 0f the Dom_inican Order, allowed the ,feast to be celebrated in all churches which possessed an altar dedicated to the Hol.y Rosary. Similarly, after the great land victory over the Turks at Temesvar in Hungary on August 5, 1716 (the feast of Our Lady Of the Snows),.,Pope Clement XI ordered that the feast of-the Most Holy Rosary should be celebrated throughout the Universal Church, since the v.ictory was attributed to °the recitation of the rosary by the whole Christian world, as ordered by the Pope, to invoke Our Lady's aid in behalf of the Christian troops. When Our Lady'appeared to Bernadette at Lourdes and -to the children at Fatima. it was not by chance°that she held a rosary in her hands and taught them to recite it, telling them that she would bring peace to the world and to the hearts of herdevout clients'if they practiced the"de~cotion of the.Rosary. Today the Turks are no longer besieging the ramparts of Christendom, but a more "formidable enemy, modern pagan civilization, is threatening not only the Church at large but the hearts of her individual chil-" dren. Hence the need of an enthusiastic revival of the devotion of Our Lady's Rosary. Religious can contribute their share to this revival by renewing their fervor in regard to this devotion, and by inspiring their charges, young and old, with a love for Our Lady's Rosary., To attain this objective, it is .suggested that the various letters' and writings of Pope Leo,XHI on the devotion to the Rosary be read in the refectory or for spiritual reading during the month of October. They have been collected and edited in 334 Septernb~er, 19 4 6 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS English by "Father William Raymond Isawlor, O.P., and are pub!isB~d by tile St.~Anthony Guild Press, Pate~s~on, New 3erse~: Tile beautiful ,encyclical letter of Pope Plus XI on the Rosa'r~y "i-nay also be-read with p~r0fi~.,~ It appeared in-an English translation ifi the Catholic Mind, November 8.1-9 3 7., -.Our eonsfitutiohs state: "In order that~ they be valid, confessions of ~ellcjious women mus:f be made in a place lawfully deslcjnated for the con-fesslons of women.~'- What. is the superior to do if the retreat master orders that all the confessions will ~be heard in the parlor because of the long hours required for.the many retreatanfs? The statement quoted from your constitutions refers only ~to con~. fessions of religious women made to a priest who has no special faculties to hear the confessions~of religious women. The retreat master, like the.ordinary?and extraordinary confessor, u.sually receives special faculties from the l~ocal ordinary to hear the confessions of the community to which he is to give the'retreat. Hence, as ~ar as the place is concerned, he can hear these confessions oalidly anywhere, But for the licitness of such confessions the place must be one approved for hearing the confessions of women._ Ordinarily the superior may take it for grarfted that the retreat master has obtained permission from the local ordinary to hear con-fessions in the-parlgr during the retreat if he states that he will hear the confessions there.- Should any serious doubts arise abbut the matter, they should be referred to the local ordinary. °3' May a reh~;ous put aside moriey, in the keepin~j of the superior tO be used as an offerln~ for a~ number of Masses to be sa~d' for her May the~ s6perlor general allow Sisters who have received money gifts on the occasion" of their golden jubilee to deposit a part of the money ¯ received with')he tre~surer°inrorder'~o ha\~e Masses sald-for themselves 335 QUESTIONS 'AND ANSWER~ ~S~ Review [or Religio~ aff_er, their death? M~n9 of these Sisters~ rio ,Ionggr~ h.age reJaf~lve~ who would,.;n a!l char!fy, haye the Masses said ~r fh~ [~pose of their .souls. ~ @hough received from different sources, we ~ve, put these two questions t0g~thel, ~i~ce they deal wi~h ~e k~mg~-'~u~jd~t: They differ only with r~gard to 'the source from ~hich the money for the stipend is ~derivgd. ~ ~ To begin wiih: unless the constitutions forbid it, a religious superior may allow her subjects to use small gifts for Mass stipends without any violation of poverty. If this can be done during life, there seems to be no reason why such sums may not be put aside for a fium~er of Masses to be said after the Sister's'death. The prescriptions o~ common life must alsb be considered in this matter. This requires that ordinarily the same permission would be granted tb all the Sisters;u~der the same dircumstances. For instance, it shofild ~e undelstoodthat this permission Wo~Id~ be~ given~tb all jubilarians. Or; ~n ohr first case,-t~e shperior must~be willing t0 allo~,all ~the~istdrs to set aside small~giftsuntil the required amount is reached. All such sums,df'm0ney, should be:d~posited with the treasurer"acCording tb~the regulations of the superior: " ~0~, ~'ln."Qhesqlons and~Answers'~ ~fo~ March, 1946, you slated~ thaf reli- ~i0us I;~;ng~ ih commdnffy ~ay ~alny~he lfidulgen~es ~f the ~onfrafernff~ of the~MosfHolyr Rog~ry, includlng~the tofies quofies~ indul~enc6~ on~ Rosa~ Sunday, by making the visits in thei~ o~n ¢bmmuhffy Chapel, provided they are enr611ed in ~the ~onfr~t~rnit~. ~hls dbes not seem fo bein-con, formity with a reply given by the~Sacre8 Penffegfiary on ~ovember 20, 1923. Please explaln. " ":~ Whe~ the ~nswer referred to above was written, it was based upo~ a,b~ief- dat~ August 1 1, 1871, and on a~escript d~ed~February 8, 1874, gr~ntin~ the privilege mentioned, to me~bers~ of the'Con-fraternity of the Most Holy Rosary. ~ We: mus~, co-bless-that the answer of the Sacred Penitentiary given on November 20, ]92~ escaped us. ~hile it is true that [~is was a private answer which ~as never publishe~ in th~ ~cta ~postoffcae Sedis, the o~cial organ of.the Holy Se~, still from the nature of the reply we most ~oncIude that i~ -is binding upon all, not merely upon those to whom the answer~ was given. This is ~the opinion of Roman canonists who ~ere con-sulted. " For'the benefit of our reade~K, w~ give ~the question propose~ to the Sacred Penitentiary in 1923, together with its teply: 336 September, 1946 .~ Q~/ESTIONS AND ANSWERS "Question: Do ~vords bf such a general import (that is, the privilege of gaining albindulgences in one's owri chapel) ,apply also to the toties quoties indulgence which may be gained on" the feast of the Most Holy-Rosary~ by,thosE visiting 'an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary exposed in a.church in-which the confraternity is canonically erected ? Reply: In the -negative." However; thos~ religious mentione~d above who are impeded from visiting such a church (becauseoof physical or moral disability) may ask ,their confessor ~to commute ~,the required visit to the specified church ,so that"they;-may- make the visit in.their own chapel (Code Commission, 3an. 19/1940): -, ¯ Has ~e Church granted ,an indulgence to relicjious for'the renew.al" of their, vows after receiving Holy Communion? +,Yes.~ On-Ai6ril !0, 1937~; the. Sacred Penitentia.ry granted~ an indulgence of-three years ~'to religious ~ of any order or congregation "who,. after offering the0H61y Sacrifice of the M~ss or after receiv!ng H61WCommunion privately renew their vows at least with a contrite heart." (Preces et Pia Opera, n. 695). ~33~ . May the profits from the sale of stationery and religious articles in a convent school be used to help students who seem to have a religious vocation to finish their education and to provide them with a froi~sseau ~and money for the trip fo the novltlafe? In either case the profits do not revert to the religious community, but actually go back to the students, though not to all of them. St_ill, if the other students are informed that the profits will be u.sed for_ these purposes, and if they do not object, the practice seems to be' permissible;o ¯ - ¯ May the profits of a school store be used fo buy refeE~nce book's, duplicat=ors;'and the like for the use of teachers in that school? May.they be ~pplled for correspondenc~ courses for the religious teacffers,~ especially when.the salaries'of these teachers are, not sufficient tO cover .the expenses for s~ch courses? (There i~ question here only of schools~ that. are :not owned .by rife Sisters themselves, but are'owned by~ the p,~rlsh or the dlo-cese. o ' ° 337 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoieto for Religious Since reference books, duplicators, and the lik'e are normal schbol equ'ipinent, they should be supplied to teachers by the school, and they remain the property of the school. Hence there can be no objection~(o using the profits of the school store for such items. Regarding the use of'such profits~to pay for correspondence courses for the religious t~achers, a distinction must be made. If these courses ate requi~ed by the,state law or by particular local circumstances to maintain the standing of,the religious teachers in the school in which they are now teaching, then the profits of the book store may be used for that purpose since such special courses may be regarded as a. part of the expense of running the school. By such use the profits are equivalently returned to the pupils, inasmuch as their teachers are better prepared to serve them in the class room in conformity with local regulations. If, however, these courses are intended merely for the personal improvement of the individual religious, the profits~of the book store may not be used to pay. for them, since the religious congregation has the obligation to provide for .~uch'courses. We suppose that the religious teachers are receiving an adequate salary. If the salaries of the religious teachers are not adequate, and the pastor tells them to use the profits of the book store as a supplement to their salary, then such profits" may be used by the religious teachers for any purpose whatsoever since they constitute a part of their salary. ~35~ Can ordinary flour, that is, the same kind of flour "l'ha'l" is used for baking bread, be used for making altar breads? What percent of wheat stated by the company would be valid for this purpose? How can one determine whether this flour has the ricjht amount of Whea~? The principles concerning valid and lawful matter for consecra-tion are found in dogmatic theology, canon law, and certain instruc-tions issued by the Holy See, p~irticularly an instruction issued by the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments on March 26, 1929 (cf. AAS 21-'631; Canon Law Digest I, p. 353). From these sources we draw the following conclusions concerning the material, for making altar breads: 1. To be certainly valid and lawful material for consecration, altar breads must be made of pure wheat baked with water. 2. If another substance is mixed with the wheat to such an extent that bread made from the mixture would no longer be 338 September, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS monly considere~d as wheat bread (for example, if the other substance would be of a quantity equa! to or greater than the wheat)-, this bread is.certainly not valid matter for consecration. 3': If another substance is~mixed with the wheat in a notable, .~hough .not an equal, quantit~,.'the br~ad is:to be ~considered~ dubious matter for consecration and is therefore not to b'e used. - 4. 'If only a slight quantity of some othe_r substance.is mixed with the wheat, the bread is.v.alid, but not lawful, matter for conse-o cration. ~. 5. Th£se who make altar breads should either make the flour themselves or should have some means of being sure that the. flour they procure is made of pure ~vheat.o ~- 6. Those who procure altar breads from others should take .appropriate means of knowing that the makers .of the altar breads are above suspicion and can safely certify that the altar bread~.are made of pure wheat. The foregoing are principles; and we can state them without \ hesitation. But we are hOt'equally prepared to answer the practical points brought;out by our correspondent. The editors have-fried to get some information concerning the contents of ordinary flour, but the information thus far obtained is too vague to serve as the basis for answering the questions. We shall continue to try to get reliable information; but it has occurred to us that in the meantime we might get much valuable information from some of our readers who make, altar breads. Hence, we should like to throw this question "open to the house." Can any of our readers supply us with helpful details concerning such points as the contents of ordinary flour and how to be sure one is getting pure wheat flour? Please send the informatign immediately, as we wish to publish it in our next number. '1646 Saint Isaac Josues Saint CRene ~oupil (164~2) Saint John l~alande 1946 339 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY~ ~ByM. ~J. Scheeben. Tr~nshted by Cyril ¥ollert.-S.J. ,, Pp. ix ~- ,834.,~ ~B. ,Herder, Book Company, It isn't often that~ comprehensive study of dogmatic theology appears in. the English l~inguage, arid much rareP still 'that such work addresses itself to the widest circles of the reading publ~ic, religious, lay, and secular. .,The work now appdaring in a crisp, moder~ English translation was first published in Germany in 1865, and was repeatedly~judged by stich competent seholars as Msgr. Martin Grabmann, Dora L. 3anss~ns, O.S.B.,~and-/~/. M:. Weiss':O.P., as (the Words are those of the last-named), '"'Ehe'rmost: origihal, profound and" brilliant work that recent [nineteenth century] theology has produced." " ~Time Yeas when °the very word th'eol6gical would deter all but tlid 15retlirdn of that ¢r~ft~°from reading, a work. Fortunately that da~r ~s~ passing: and the~non-theologians ~in ever'-greater numbers ar~ treatin~g themselves to the satisfying (and Sanctifying)." experience.' of learning m~,re about the doctrines ot~ theft faith.-~ The ~vieWer: orice encountered a" high-sch6~61~"gifl' ~eading~:athe'r' Ricl~i~by'~ tr~hslati6n of St, Thomas' Cor~tra Get, tiles., Oh being a~l~ed ho~ ~he liked it, she fe151ie~ v~iffi zest: "Oh, there's a lot~in it I don'toundefstand, but wh~t I, d6 ~n~/erstand, I really like!''~ In similar fashion readers of this,Scheeben w~ll find sections they will grasp.but vaguely, for mys-terids aremyster~e~ still .even to the theologically schooled; but they will gratefully go on tsoe'c't~io n"s thrilling ii~ their understandable depth and brilliance: ~ ~ -~ " It w, as the author's aimto deal directly 9nly with the most mys-terious phases of the Christian revelation, and to show how those great wellsprings of verity, when c6nsulted in succession, illumine and illustrate each other. He shows, for example, how the com-munication of the Divine Nature,in the proce_ssions of the Holy Trin-ity is the model, so to say, for the Incarriation of the Word, and how this communication projects the interior life'-streams of the Trinity into the external world of creation. -Man's-primordial integrity and original sanctity is seen to be the four~datio~i for the Godward devel-opment of created rational nature; but the awful drama of sin ("an ineffably great sin" as Augustine said) intervenes and leads in turn '- 340 BOOK REVIEWS~ to.~the detail~d)study of the ~r~atest revelation~ of all, Gbd~great pla.n of redeeming the slave by delFcering~up the Son.~of His love; in whom the.Fat~i~r ',~sees His own' image in a man" (p.~358). ~ ¯ ~_ ' The allur{ng presentation of redemption is straightway follbwed by its fullest realizatio.n,,the Holy, Eucharist. ¯ "Therefore the sig-nificance 'of the Eucharist comes to this;,- that the real union of.~.the Son of'God.with all men is ratified, completed, and sealed in it, a.nd that men are perfectly incorporated in'Him in,the most intimate, real. and substantial manner" (p: 482). " The section on the C~urch is a cogent handlin~ of that _now promin~.nt, doctrine of the Mystical Body, while that on .the_ Sacra-ments is focussed and~ sharpened by a~masterful essay on the. sacra, mental character, But such section-h~adings and short quotations do .s~cant ~ustice to the dept~h~ ar~d~: brilliance of the author's treatme, nr. This is a volume that will be gratefully received and pondered, for dt. enlarges our app~raisal of that pearl of.great price, ours since baptism,. our Catholic faith. I allow myself on~eomore sampling of the.styl~:i "The enlightened Christian need envy no one but ~th~ blessed in heax;enoon account of the ~ficidity, the depth, and the fullness of. their~ k~wledge.~But the same faith ~s that in which we a_~ticipate their. vision holds out to US ~he sure promise that its imperfections and_ obsc'urity will vanish if, ~ollowing its directions, we strive devotedly and persevering.ly.'to reach its divine object. Faith is the prophet within -~ur ~very spir~it, presaging t.he full unveiling of the mysteries oP God, the morning star o~ the da~i of eternity, the bread of.our child-hood in the kingdom of God, which rears us to the maturity of:.the wisdom of Christ" (p. 796.) GERALD ELLARD, S.,J. MAJ~OR TRENDS IN AMERICAN CHURCH HISTORY. By Francis X. Curran, S.J. Pp. xvili -]- 198. The America Press, New York, 1946. $2.so. Most readers of this REVIEW will be interested in Father Curran's sprightly volume, which might be described as a thumb-nail history° of Christianity in the United States. The author was interested in contrasting the steady "fi~suring" of the multiple non-Catholic sects with the continued expansion in our country of Catholic Chris-- tianity~ "Why has the Catholic Church in America the preeminent posii~ion it now holds? Could it have acquired strength, if it were unsuited to American conditions, if it were not as truly American as \it is Catholic?'" (pp. xiv, xv.) BOOK. REVIEWS Re

Issue 4.3 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; MAy !'5, 1945"' ' ",, ris in rl÷|ncjs~ ampere " ~ ~v~ ~ '~ f~ -";~ ,~ ¯ 7ESUS CHEST IN ~THE WRITINGS OF R~MI~RE--.~" ~,7- '-~ "~ Dominic U~ger,.6.F.M~Cap: . ~. sMEDITATION, . BOOK~ , FOR MINOR~. ~S~MINAKIES Vo1. IV, No~ .3~ ~'/Publish~d 3~onthl¢; Jan~arg, Mar~h,'Mag July'September~and No~ember a~ ~h~ Cdlieg~iPres~ 606 H~ms~n Street, T~peka K~ns~s ~b~ St. Mar7 s College St. M~gs w~th ecclesiastical approbatton. Entered as~second class matter-Januar~ 15 1942 . at thvPost O~ce Topeka Kansas underthe act of ~arch 3+ 1879~' ~'~ *~ . ?"Edit0rih1.Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Au~usfifie Ellaid,. S.J., Getaid"Kelly, S J.~: Editorial-Secretary. Alfred F. Scfine~der S J ~ . : Coplright 19~ b7 Adam,C. Ellis: permission is hereb7 grantld for quotations 3"~" of reasonableTl¢ngth,, provided due credit, ,be given this review" and the' author. -("Subscription price: 2 'dollars a,year . ,? . . ~ " ~ ~rmte~ m.U.S;t~; .- ~ . . J' / 89)~.~, ~' Our deification is as certain ds the dogma of the divinity ~;, . bf Christ/of which it is the complement. oit is novmereiy "for itself-that ~l~e:'holy Hiamanity of Jesu.s" has ~e~ei~;ed, tfie ,,_ ~f-ul:nessof the di~Jinity through the personal union with the °~.~ -Wbrd,, bu~ als0.to make all humanity divine b~ granting'a :ihareiof Hii plenitude to all whowish to receige, His ~' ~ 'muni~tion. ~ Wh.en God ~redestined His own Son to be the :i'~7 ._ ¯ S0~a 0[ l~a~ry, "He p~e ~destined us t,o become His ~ad0pfed:sons ,b~y' union~with His onb/-begotten Son. (Ephes!gns~l:5). In becoming incarnate the" W;~d "of Gbd communk~(ed ¯ ~H.is di~iinity inca very personal manner to one soul and one ~ ,body in Christ. But his limitless love, embracing th~ whol~ _ world, mad~ it poss!ble for all,o .men toshare in-tha.tpartici- , . patton of the divine¯life. "His (Christ's) InCarnation ~a~ , -- no other end or aim, than to c6mmunicate His divine" life. ~ - to us: , ,~ . - But if-the'fulness 6f the diyinity!belongs.~shbstantially to.Jesus .- ~ Christ gl0ne (C01. 2:9), all who are united to Him by holy ba'ptis~rri .~'becoNe parta~kers in this fulness each according to his measure (John- ~ ~1:16),.: .-.,Ali o~iaer individual -natures belonging, to o~hd ia~e ~.~ Adaha shall be called, to unite themselve~ to-tBi~ privilqged nature, and to recei~'e by t'his union a very real communication,of its divine~iife. ¯ There shall be but one only, Go~d-Man: but" all men who. shal1~ be ~DOMINIC- UNGER~ Son of the~Heayenly :~E~th~r; but~all those.,who shall be willing-t~ receive~ thii~only Son shall becomethereby thd adopted sons of His Ffither add shall adqfiire - ,g s~rjct, right to share in H)s heavenly inhe/i(affce. "-(Tbe" Ap6stlesbip oLPr~g~r,,~p. 138: and The Laws o~ Prodidence, p. 90.)- ~ . ,"L It is possible for Christ to b~ the Head ~f all men and to i m~ke'~hem divine becahse.He is personally' unit~d"with Go~ ahd because He possesses the fulness of divine life. which He " fofcef~!y stated b~.Father Ram~{rd:- ~ . ~ Jesfis Christ is, therefore,.3n a ver~ real sense, the Head of huma~ ity ~nd of tile w~ole spiritual creation: .for from Him alone~do~s thd 'divine li~e ~our itself forth on angels and men, as really as animal lif~? ~s~reags' fr6m'the h~ad into every ~a[t pf our body." From Himhnd ~'flom Him alon~ proceed all supernatural acts which are d~ne 'io-heaven arid earth. We capnot acquire the least ;merit, do the least ~c~i'on,.conceive the least" thought,pronounce the least w~rd. in the supernatural order, if these different ~mov¢ments are not in-~ur hearts. *~througb~ an ~mpul~e'of His Divine~ Heart. This adorable ~art is 'for: all h~manity, in the order of grace, what ~he sun,.in ~fie physical okder, is for the earth and th~ 6ther planets which'gravitate~around it. - ~- The fact that Christ h~s, made it possibld --;_re~el~eHls o~n Bo'dyafid Blood in~the Eucfiari~t is ~an?- argument that He ifitend~d usto be divine. This union of -man~ith

Issue 71.1 of the Review for Religious, 2012. This was the final issue. ; Volume 71 2012 Editor Michael G. Harter sj Associate Editor Garth L. Hallett sj Book Review Editor Rosemary Jermann Scripture Scope Eugene Hensell osb Editorial Staff Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp e v i e w f o r r e l i g i o u s A Journal of Catholic Spirituality contents prisms 4 Prisms Ignatian spirituality 8 Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent Kathleen Hughes rscj explores the provocative parallels between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist as two ways we are caught up in the work of God in Christ, and two invitations to replicate the whole life, death, and rising of Jesus. This article was one of the keynote presentations at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V held in St. Louis, Missouri, July 21-24, 2011. 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week Ronald Mercier sj explores how those who make the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are invited to enter into a grand silence where they contemplate the empty space without answers that follows the crucifixion—the space that remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, and the space within which joy dawns for those who know the Risen Lord. Questions for Reflection 58 Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes Peter J. Schineller sj researches the phrase "finding God in all things," common in writings about Ignatian spirituality, and discovers that it is rare in the writings of Ignatius. He finds that phrases such as "searching for and seeking God in all things" more accurately describe the Ignatian approach. 2 Review for Religious sharing experience 69 The Warmth, the Will, and the Way Ben Harrison mc is discovering that it helps him be more consistent in his spiritual journey if he is attentive to the warmth of the Spirit's presence in his heart and to the vows as an expression of the will to move deeper in his relationship with God. 78 Getting with the Program A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. This article could be used profitably as a case study during a novitiate class or read as background for a community discussion. Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study discernment models 86 Dialogue with the Radically Other: Models of Discernment in the Old Testament Ligita Ryliskyte md phd sje explores the rich imagery of the Old Testament and offers valuable paradigms to understand spiritual discernment as a dialogue with God. In this essay she describes four models of discernment that might be distinguished in Old Testament imagery. departments 100 Scripture Scope: Vocation and the Call to Discipleship: A Reflection on Mark 1:16-20 105 Book Reviews 71.1 2012 3 Review for Religious prisms 4 A wise man once said: "It's a shame to waste a good crisis." If that is true, Review for Religious is facing a moment of great opportunity. In recent years the number of subscribers has steadily fallen off, and the cost of publication has risen to the point that our future as a print journal is in jeop-ardy. The recent deaths of Fathers Fischer and Fleming have taken their toll. We have reached a critical point in our history. When my provincial assigned me to succeed David Fleming as editor, he gave me a specific mission: Assess the viability of the publication. So for the past year, the staff and our advisory board have taken that mission seriously even as we worked to meet our ordinary production schedule. While we all hoped to be able to keep this good work alive, the real goal of our discernment was not to save or to close the journal, but to explore ways to more effectively serve the church. In the past months we have consulted widely. We looked at the shifting demographics of reli-gious life and understood that younger reli-gious are getting more of their information on 71.1 2012 5 the Internet than through printed periodicals. We sorted through spreadsheets of detailed financial information. We looked hard at our available resources and realized that we could sustain publication of the journal in its present format for a maximum of three to five years. The hand-writing on the wall could not be clearer: Simply maintain-ing operations as they are will inevitably lead to closure. Maintenance, without change, is not an option. Part of our analysis took us back to look at our history. Our journal came into being in 1941 at a Jesuit theolo-gate in St. Marys, Kansas, where three enterprising faculty members—Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Gerald Kelly (later joined by Henry Willmering)—invited their students to edit and publish the papers they wrote as class assignments in what became the early incarnation of this journal which has served the church and religious life proudly for the past 70 years. Richard Smith, Daniel F. X. Meenan, Philip Fischer and David Fleming edited the publi-cation over the subsequent decades. Since Review for Religious was founded at a small theology school, we began exploring the idea that a theology center, rather than the confines of our office, would be a more logical site for the publication of this journal. As we realized that a network of theology centers around the world linked through the Internet could have great potential for producing articles and generating lively discussion, we began exploring that path. We contacted the moderators of Jesuit Conferences that have significant centers of religious formation in Africa, India, and the Asia-Pacific region—in parts of the world Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, Gerald Kelly, Henry Willmering Review for Religious Author • Title 6 where religious life is growing—to see if any of them would have an interest in assuming responsibility for the journal. As a result of our inquiries, we are engaged in a conversa-tion with just such a center about continuing the mission of Review for Religious. We are not looking to replicate the journal as it cur-rently exists, but are talking about re-envisioning and re-designing it with current and future generations of religious in mind. As a result of our discussions and discernment, we have determined that this copy of Review for Religious is the final issue that will be produced by our St. Louis office. Whether the journal remains as a print publication, or is redesigned for delivery on the Internet, or ceases publication altogether is yet to be determined. In the meantime, we are suspending publication and putting a moratorium on renewals or new subscriptions until our discernment is completed. To say that we have reached the end is premature. A hiatus or pause is a more accurate description. As Ron Mercier points out in his article in this issue, a rest is as important a part of a musical score as is a chord or a whole string of arpeggios. And such a time of waiting can be a rich moment. We are not sitting idly while the discussion goes on but are in the process of digitizing our entire collection. We plan to make every article, poem, and book review we have published available on the Internet. It should be an invalu- Richard Smith, Daniel Meenan, Philip Fischer, and David Fleming. 71.1 2012 7 able archive for anyone wishing to research the shifts in religious life during the past 70 years. I am grateful to our current staff: Mary Ann Foppe, who has been the office manager for the past 25 years; Judy Sharp, our receptionist, who has handled subscriptions; Rosemary Jermann, who has written the Bookshelf column; Garth Hallett sj, who has served as Associate Editor; Tracy Gramm, who has done layout and graphic design. I have appreciated Ed Hensell osb, Elizabeth McDonough op, Richard Hill sj, and Joseph Gallen sj, who have provided regular columns over the years, and Jean Read, Iris Ann Ledden ssnd, Regina Siegfried asc, Claire Boehmer asc, Joe Meek, and many oth-ers who have made major behind-the-scenes contri-butions. They have been an excellent staff. We are grateful to the countless number of con-tributors who have sent us manuscripts and poetry for our consideration. They helped us keep our finger on the pulse of religious life. And finally, we thank you, our faithful subscribers. We are grateful for your support, and we trust that we have been an important resource for you over the years. Please read the inside of the back cover of this issue. It contains details about how to keep informed about the progress of our discernment. We will notify each subscriber about the outcome of that discernment. Please pray that the Spirit will lead us to a good conclusion. Michael Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann, Mary Ann Foppe, Tracy Gramm, Judy Sharp and Michael Harter Review for Religious Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent I need to begin with a confession. I was given an assignment to speak about the Eucharist, particularly as it describes a way of life flowing from Weeks Three and Four of the Exercises. I am not an expert on the Spiritual Exercises, but I have been a student of the Eucharist for many decades, so I was happy to think about this topic. And, though the talk was still non-existent, a description had to be prepared for the program booklet. Many of you have prob-ably had the same experience. You make up a description of a talk right out of thin air, hop-ing to be sufficiently generic so you can talk about almost anything at all. kathleen hughes ignatian spirituality 8 Kathleen Hughes rscj, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. 71.1 2012 9 But a funny thing happened to me on the way to the topic assigned. I took a detour. I stumbled onto what I regard as an amazing new insight about how the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror each other. At first I thought I was the last to arrive. Then I checked with those who have far greater familiarity with the literature on the Spiritual Exercises, and no one had heard any reflection on such a topic. That, too, gave me pause and left me wondering how far out on a limb I was climbing. Nevertheless, here's the insight I want to develop in the first part of this talk: there seems to be a quite provocative parallel between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist. The gathering rites of the Eucharist include elements of praise and penitence, as are typical of movements in Week One of the Spiritual Exercises; the Liturgy of the Word is the gradual unfolding of the person and work of Jesus Christ, as occurs in Week Two; the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the celebration of Jesus' death for the life of the world, is the heart of Week Three; and the concluding rites of the Eucharist have an affinity with the rhythms of Week Four. In these pages I intend to develop this thesis in more detail, hoping in the process to give fresh insight into God's activity in these two parallel celebrations of the paschal mystery—these two ways we are being caught up in the work of God in Christ. Then I will move to a focus on the Eucharist itself, as it flows from Week Three, incarnates the intimacy of Week Four, and remains the abiding experience of consolation, chal-lenge, and invitation to faithful living, parallel to leav-ing retreat and picking up everyday life. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 10 Part I: Parallels Overview First, then, before we look at the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four parts of the Eucharist in more detail, let me offer an overview of the resonances I've discovered between them. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises are a series of movements or stages that, negotiated with grace, realize the Christian ideal of identification with Christ. Both are invitations to conversion; both, at their heart, are offers of holi-ness and transformation. Both the Exercises and the Eucharist have a basic psychological rhythm that facili-tates growth in the spiritual life. The Exercises and the Eucharist as we know them only gradually evolved to their present form. The Exercises began as jottings in Ignatius's personal notebook—conso-lations, desolations, graces received—and this collec-tion of insights developed into a practical manual as Ignatius gave them to oth-ers and learned from their experience. They remain a core series of spiritual exercises that are endlessly flexible as enfleshed in the lives of individuals. The Eucharist, too, is the result of a gradual evolution over time around the core of readings and the breaking of bread, making every age and every human commu-nity a fresh inculturation of a basic pattern. Happily, in our day the basic four-part structure of gathering, listening, responding, and sending has been recovered in the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace. 71.1 2012 11 Interestingly, both the Exercises and the Eucharist are filled with words, indeed with dialogue, and with spaces of silence. Both also make appeal to all of our senses and stir up mystagogical insights in those who are attentive. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace; they help us to make sense of our life as it is unfolding before the living God. And both the Eucharist and the Exercises send us to live, in deed, what we have just experienced in this time of encounter with the divine. Finally, both these patterns of prayer follow, for most of us, familiar and predictable dynamics and so, for each, we need the grace to pay attention, to move beyond the familiar in order to get inside the mysteries. The First Week and the Gathering Rites of the Eucharist We come to retreat or to Eucharist just as we are, and we bring our history and our particular world with us into this sacred time and place. We come, sometimes breathlessly, from the work we have just left behind and the preoccupations that fill our minds and hearts. We come always with unfinished business and with distrac-tions, even burdens, of body and spirit. We come with our crosses and our inexhaustible needs. We come because we are drawn to a time and space of intimacy and prayer, of encounter with the Lord who will tutor our hearts, of transformation to new and deeper life. We come to be nourished. We come remembering God's goodness and God's fidelity to us, no matter our own response. We come hoping to touch our finger to the flame once again, placing ourselves, for this span of time, on holy ground. God's unconditional and ever-faithful love perme-ates our awareness in Week One. Each one of us has Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 12 been blessed with divine life; God's creative activity has showered each of us in unique ways and has supported and sustained us throughout our lives. In face of the immense goodness of God, we acknowledge our inade-quate response; we know that sin has hindered our rela-tionships with self and others and, above all, with God. Week One provides the opportunity to recognize sin as our failure to respond with love to God always present, to express our own sorrow and repentance, and then to know God's ever-greater love, mercy, and forgiveness. We reflect on our lives in light of God's boundless love for us, knowing that God wants to free us of everything that gets in the way of a loving response. The focus is less on particular sins than on our relationship with God that has been damaged, perhaps even shattered. Yet it is a relationship always available, for God longs for intimacy with us far more than we could ask or even imagine. Our personal history gives us hope: God is filled with mercy and compassion, slow to anger, full of kindness. God's response to our repentance is mercy and forgiveness. By the end of the First Week, we know ourselves as sinners, loved and rescued by a God who is so much greater than our hearts. These same heart movements are present in the gathering rites of the Eucharist. We generally begin the celebration with a hymn of praise and thanksgiving. We are then invited into a time of silence before the liv-ing God, and we cannot but realize our unworthiness and our experience of sin. In the language of the new Missal we own our complicity in sin "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," and we join with one another in begging for mercy and for-giveness: "Lord, have mercy." Then the Gloria is our hymn of praise after the words of absolution: "May 71.1 2012 13 almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to life everlasting. Amen." We begin the Eucharist knowing ourselves as loved sinners, disposed to open our hearts to the word proclaimed in our midst. There are two additional striking parallels between the First Week of the Exercises and the gathering rites of Eucharist. The first has to do with the cross of Christ, for the cross is prominent at the beginning of both experiences. The retreatant is invited to make a first meditation before the cross; similarly, when we gather for the Eucharist, the entrance procession places the cross at the very beginning of the celebration. There is nothing like the cross of Christ to sharpen our focus, to bring us to the sober reality that relationships have consequences, that the paschal mystery of Jesus' life, death, and rising is what has made it possible to draw near to the throne of grace. And here's a second intriguing possibility with the Eucharist. There is a presidential prayer at the conclu-sion of the entrance rites, another at the preparation of the table and the gifts, and a third after Communion. These are all, essentially, prayers of petition; they each ask for a specific grace that is dependent for its focus on the place of the prayer in the rite. We really could think of these prayers as "preludes" that name and ask for a specific grace as we move from one week to the next, from one part of the Eucharist to the next. For example, the opening prayer for today's liturgy, the Seventeenth Sunday, Year A, from icel's Missal of 1998, reads: God of eternal wisdom, You alone impart the gift of right judgment. Grant us an understanding heart that we may value wisely the treasure of your kingdom Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 14 and gladly forego all lesser gifts to possess that kingdom's incomparable joy. We make our prayer through Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit God for ever and ever. Amen.1 What a perfect presidential prayer to open our hearts to the Word of God; what a perfect prelude to move to Week Two of the Exercises. The Second Week and the Liturgy of the Word The parallels between the Second Week of the Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word are easily dis-cernible. Both focus on the scriptures, and both invite decision; both are grounded in the Gospels and in the Mystery who is Christ; both the Spiritual Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word, over time, offer an intimate encounter with Jesus of Nazareth—healing, teaching, sharing meals, welcoming sinners, going about doing good, spending the night in union with his Abba, gath-ering disciples and forming their hearts. We reflect on scripture passages, in retreat as at Mass, one after another, not in order to know the scriptures better but to discover ever more fully the One whom they disclose to us. During the Second Week of the Exercises, like Martha's sister, Mary, the retreatant sits at the feet of Jesus, the teacher, drawn to his person, absorbing his attitudes and values, his choices, his preaching of the dream of God for the world, for humankind, for each of us. The Second Week, of course, is not full only of the consolation of spending time with a dear friend. That 71.1 2012 15 dear friend of ours also reveals to us the cost of dis-cipleship, the misunderstandings, the disappointments, the gathering storm of criticism and anger. We take in the whole of the life of Jesus Christ and are drawn to know him more intimately, to love him more ardently, and to follow him more faithfully. We choose to be dis-ciples of the perfect disciple. Empowered by the love of God experienced in Week One and by Jesus' friendship, which deepens for us in Week Two, we choose an ever closer relationship with him, no matter what. Loved sin-ners become loving servants, embracing and following Jesus, setting our faces, with him, to Jerusalem. It has been written that during the Second Week "We find ourselves drinking in the experiences of Jesus, so that we begin to assimilate his values, his loves, his freedom. This style of praying provides the necessary content of decision-making or discernment, which forms an essential part of the Second Week and is meant to be an abiding part of a Christian's life that is shaped by the Exercises."2 Of course, those statements also describe a regu-lar pattern of solitary prayer in daily life that reaches its summit in the Eucharist. God speaks to our hearts, opening up for us the mystery of redemption and salva-tion and offering us spiritual nourishment; Christ him-self is present in the midst of the community through the Word proclaimed.3 The cycle of readings, highlighting first one evange-list's portrait of Christ and then another's in the three-year cycle, invites our reflection on the life and ministry of Jesus, his proclamation of the Good News, his say-ings and parables, his teachings and miracles, and, espe-cially during Lent and the triduum, how his face was set to Jerusalem during his last days on earth. The Gospel is the highpoint of the Liturgy of the Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 16 Word, and we mark it with various signs of reverence for the book and with the tracing of the cross on our forehead, lips, and breast, praying that our mind be opened, that our words be true, and that our whole being be exposed to the consolation and the challenge of a Gospel way of life. The homily follows. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the homily as a necessary source of nourishment of the Christian life.4 In fact, for a majority of Christians it is often the only source of spir-itual nourishment in a busy week. The Second Week of the Exercises illuminates the challenge to those who give the homily in the Eucharist. The point of the hom-ily is identical to the grace sought in Week Two of the Exercises, namely, to enable the assembly to know Jesus more intimately, to love him more ardently and to follow him more faithfully. Nothing less! Not entertainment. Not exegesis. Not personal self-disclosure. Nothing less than knowing, loving, and following Christ, choosing his choices, becoming gradually and almost imperceptibly more like him, putting on his mind and heart. Just as one chooses discipleship at the end of Week Two, so too there is a choice at the end of the Liturgy of the Word. As we prepare to move from the Table of God's Word to the Table of the Lord's Supper, we join ourselves to Christ and ask that we too be transformed every bit as much as the bread and the wine, that we and they may become for us and for our world the Body and Blood of Christ. The Third Week and the Liturgy of the Eucharist The focus of Week Three is both the Last Supper and the Passion. So, too, these two themes are conflated in the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "the Sacrifice of the 71.1 2012 17 Cross and its sacramental renewal in the Mass, which Christ the Lord instituted at the Last Supper and com-manded the apostles to do in his memory, are one and the same, differing only in the manner of offering, and . . . consequently the Mass is at once a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, of propitiation and satisfaction."5 The first meditation of the Exercises in Week Three is on the Last Supper in its entirety—including the preparations, the choice of place, the arrangements for the meal, the assembling in the upper room, Christ's washing of the apostles' feet, the supper itself, Christ's giving of his body and blood in Eucharist as the ultimate expression of his love for them, and his final words, his last will and testament, that they continue this same action in his memory. Much of this finds a resonance in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. There is, of course, first the preparation of the table and the gifts, the preparation of the altar itself and then of the offerings of bread and wine. There is the washing of the hands of the presider, a ritual of cleansing and interior purification in readiness for all that will follow. There is the prayer over the gifts, a simple and focused petition—a second "prelude," if you will, asking in a variety of ways that the gifts we have placed on the table will become holy and that we our-selves will be caught up in this action and be made holy to the praise and glory of God. Then the great prayer of praise and thanksgiving, the Eucharistic Prayer, begins. We tell the story of Jesus' life, death, and rising. We enter into Christ's liturgy, the endless self-giving of Christ into the hands of the One he called Abba, from whom he receives back his life. Our worship is an offering of our whole selves with and in Christ to God. That is our participation in the paschal Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 18 mystery of Christ's obedience unto death, our identifica-tion with Christ in his radical obedience to God. Have you ever used one of the Eucharistic Prayers for your meditation during Week Three? The Eucharistic Prayer is addressed to God the Father. Could we not think of it as a colloquy with the One Jesus called Abba, our own intimate conversation with God, as we ponder the mystery of the Passion? By turns, the Eucharistic Prayer "collo-quy" offers thanksgiving to God for the whole work of salvation realized in Christ; it implores the action of God's transforming Spirit; it tells the story again of the night before Jesus died when he offered his body and blood, gave the apostles to eat and drink, and left them a command to perpetuate this mystery; it recalls the events that fol-lowed the supper, especially the blessed Passion of Christ together with his victory over sin and death; it makes an offering to God not only of the spotless victim but of our-selves so that day by day we might be perfected through Christ the mediator and be brought into unity with God and with each other when God may be all in all.6 It is a perfect prayer; it is a perfect condensed statement of what we believe and what we long for; it is a colloquy, if you will, that gathers up and gives expression to the faith of the community in Jesus' salvific death and rising and our par-ticipation in that mystery. There is no better word at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, or at the end of our Third Week meditation on the Passion as we dwell in the silence of God, than the word "Amen." So be it. Week Four and the Communion and Concluding Rites We are ready for Week Four—Jesus' resurrection and his apparitions to his mother, to the women, to the disciples, to Mary in the garden. Always the message is 71.1 2012 19 the same: do not be afraid; peace be with you; go now and tell the good news; go now to feed my lambs. And as peace is the gift of the Risen One, we beg that same peace for the whole human family, and we ask for mutual love among ourselves. We approach the table of the Lord and receive the one Bread of Life, which is Christ who died and rose for the salva-tion of the world. Our Communion makes us one with the Risen Christ, and the last presidential prayer, the prayer after Communion, is a final "prelude"—a peti-tion that we might go forth and live, in deed, what we have just done in word and ritual action. "Please make this Communion take!" this prayer seems to beg. We become what we eat. Through the Communions of our lifetime we are gradually being transformed into God. We know that we ourselves and our world have been radically changed by Jesus' resurrection, and we embrace his commission to become the Heart of God on earth. In contemplating the love of God in the conclud-ing exercise of Week Four, we pray an intimate prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has shared his life so completely with us that we are filled with gratitude and with a desire to make a generous return of love. "Take, Lord, receive," we say, and in so doing we express our availability before God for whatever we will face, rely-ing simply and completely on God's grace. We know ourselves as blessed and sent. Thus far I have been developing the ways that the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror and some-times illuminate aspects of each other. As a transition to the second part of this reflection, I suggest pausing over the words of the "Anima Christi" using David Fleming's translation. It was David who said that this prayer is a summary of the dynamics of the whole movement Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 20 of the Exercises, and he also described the prayer as a summary of the transformation wrought through the Eucharist. Jesus, may all that is you flow into me. May your body and blood be my food and drink. May your passion and death be my strength and life. Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given. May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross. Let me not run from the love which you offer, but hold me safe from the forces of evil. On each of my dyings shed your light and your love. Keep calling to me until that day comes, when, with your saints, I may praise you forever. Amen.7 Part II: Living the Eucharist David Fleming also called the "Anima Christi" a summary of the living of the Fourth Week in the everyday, so it is to that topic we turn, the living of the Eucharist. Many years ago I read a book by Gregory Dix called The Shape of the Liturgy, a very long, very erudite history of the Eucharist by an Anglican clergyman and liturgi-cal scholar. At the conclusion, around page seven hun-dred something, the author shifts from liturgical history, archeology, and philology to spirituality. He quotes the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, "Do this in memory of me," and then poses an intriguing question: Was ever another command so obeyed? Dix paints an extraordinary picture: Century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country, to every race on earth, this action of Eucharist has been carried out in every conceivable human circumstance and for every conceivable human need, from the heights of 71.1 2012 21 power to places of poverty and need, for royalty at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold, for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church, for the wisdom for the Parliament of a mighty nation, for a sick old woman afraid to die, for Columbus setting out to discover the New World, for a barren couple hoping for a child, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows, and on and on. Dix lyrically enumerates these and scores of other instances in which the Christian com-munity has been faithful to Jesus' command, "Do this."8 Over the centuries the Eucharist has been celebrated by innumerable millions of entirely obscure faithful women and men like you and me, people with hopes and fears and joys and sorrows and sins and temptations and prayers every bit as vivid and alive as yours and mine are now. Week by week, on a hundred thousand succes-sive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, the followers of Jesus have done just this for the remembrance of him.9 This is an extraordinary picture of the sacrament that constitutes the community, of the event that binds us together, one with another and with Christians of every age, place, race, tongue, and way of life. The Eucharist has been like a wave of grace rolling over the community again and again across the centuries of Christendom, hollowing out spaces for the divine in the midst of the everyday. Was ever another command so obeyed? But after pondering Dix, I realized that when I con-sidered that Last Supper of Jesus and his friends, there was another question on my mind. When Jesus said "do this in remembrance of me," what did he mean by the this? Surely not just the Jewish pattern of the meal, though we know a lot about Jewish rituals, the blessing of bread, the number of cups, the style of blessing said over both. Surely the this is something more. What are Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 22 we being asked to do? to be? to embrace? to celebrate? What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? Scripture supplies two directions toward an answer: one in the Synoptic accounts of the supper and Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, and the other in the Gospel of John. Recall the words of Paul describing the Last Supper: I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, "This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me" (1 Cor 11:23-25). Do this in remembrance of me. But what is the this? Have you ever considered that the Last Supper was precisely that—it was the last. The Last Supper was the last of a whole series of Jesus' meals recorded in the Scriptures. Jesus never played the pious ascetic, keep-ing away from celebrations. He loved a good feast. He used that image of feasting as a metaphor of the reign of God—a great banquet. It was said of him, "This man is a glutton and a drunkard." An even more shocking accusa-tion was whispered behind his back: "This man sits down at table with sinners, with the morally dubious, with the outcasts of society, with those living on the fringes." On nearly every page of the Gospels there is a meal or a reference to food. Jesus calls out to Zacchaeus, "Get down from that tree. I'm coming to your house for What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? 71.1 2012 23 lunch." There is the story of Simon who threw a din-ner party but was an inattentive host, and of the woman who slipped in to minister to Jesus as he sat at Simon's table. There is the story of Peter's mother-in-law who is cured only to get up and wait on them. There is the Syrophoenician woman who would not take no for an answer, who spoke about crumbs that fell from the table and who expected—and received—more than crumbs from this man. There are the feeding miracles that tell us something of the utter lavishness of the banquet and that everyone will receive enough and there will still be something left over for another day. There are parables of feasts, of great abundance, of jockeying for places at table, of appropriate attire, of filling the room with those drawn from the highways and the byways. Even the risen appearances of Jesus include meals. "Peace be with you," Jesus says. "What's for dinner?" On the shore, in the upper room, on the way to Emmaus, they recognize him in the breaking of the bread. How do you recognize someone? Even at a distance, you rec-ognize the timbre of a voice, or a particular gesture, or the slight tilt of the head so characteristic of an indi-vidual. The disciples recognized Jesus for what was most characteristic of him: the way he broke the bread. What is the this that we are to replicate? It is the whole life and ministry of Jesus at table. Scripture scholars refer to this as Jesus' ministry of table fellow-ship. To share food, in Semitic times, was to share life itself. And Jesus shared life with an astonishing assort-ment of people. Everyone was welcome to sit with him at table, to tell stories and to break the bread. Jesus' ministry of table fellowship is a ministry of universal reconciliation, no exceptions. The Last Supper reca-pitulated the attitudes and values of Jesus, who opened Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 24 his table and his heart to everyone, who offered hospi-tality to all, who was himself at home with all manner of people, who knew the human need for nourishment of body, mind, and spirit and who was always present to the other—welcoming, reconciling, offering life. Do this in memory of me. The Gospel of John offers a second answer to the question "What is the this?" In John there is a very dif-ferent institution narrative. It is the account of the foot washing. We know the story so well. Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. He poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel. Peter resisted this tenderness until Jesus pressed: "If I do not wash you, you have no part with me." Peter relented in typical Peter fashion: "Not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" When Jesus had com-pleted the washing and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you" (Cf. Jn 13:1-15). You should do as I have done. In other words, "Do this in memory of me." I had an experience when I was studying at the University of Notre Dame that colors my understand-ing of the washing of the feet after the manner of Jesus. Notre Dame has a reputation for the excellence of its liturgical studies program and, at least when I was there, for the perfection of its liturgical celebrations: every 71.1 2012 25 minister rehearsed; every detail on a checklist; every liturgy perfect. And, during the sacred triduum, the lit-urgies were even more perfect! It was Holy Thursday and time for the foot washing. Twelve people moved forward, probably having prepared for the foot wash-ing by carefully washing their feet! Then, seemingly from nowhere, a very unkempt man started up the aisle, staggering a bit, perhaps under the weather. It was one of those stunning moments. Time stood still. Then the deacon walked down the aisle to help the man for-ward and assist him in taking off his shoes and socks. What is the this? Tender and loving care for the other; accepting our mutual vulnerabilities; choosing to open our hearts to all, even the one staggering into our life and upsetting its plans and perfections. Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence. Foot washing is embrac-ing a way of service after the manner of Jesus, simply, generously, not counting the cost. Do this: Embrace my attitudes and values as your own. Love those I love, and be my heart to them. Welcome the stranger, the one on the margins, the disenfranchised. Become vulnerable with one another. Kneel in reverence, especially before those whom soci-ety shuns. Nourish one another's bodies and spirits. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep, both here at home and half a world away— those in Norway who are paralyzed by a massacre they Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 26 could never have imagined, those who are starving from the drought in Africa, those who are terrified of nuclear contamination in Japan, those who are caught up in trafficking around the globe or denied asylum here at home, those who have lost the ones they love and all they owned in fire, flood, tornado, or earthquake. Make a habit of roaming the globe in prayer so that you do not remain distant from the joys and pain of the world. Send those waves of grace once again across continents and cultures to bathe our world in the love and mercy of Eucharist. Do this in memory of me. Conclusion Week Three invites us to experience the Last Supper, to place ourselves there in the upper room, to look around at the faces, to listen to the words, to pon-der them in our hearts as we watch the immense tender-ness of the Lord with those he loved even to the end, whose hearts he was tutoring even on the night before he died. And we have stayed with him, watched and prayed with him, and accompanied him as he gave up his life. Then we have simply dwelt in silence. That same intimacy and presence to one another marks Week Four, a time of tenderness and affection with the risen Jesus who shares his love and his joy with us but does not let us cling to him. He sends us as apostles, empowered by his Spirit, to continue his sav-ing presence, to be his heart on earth. And day by day, week by week, the Eucharist con-tinues to draw us into these mysteries. The heart of the Eucharist is Jesus Christ. The heart of it is the cel-ebration of Jesus' life, death, and rising every time we gather—and the merging of our daily living and dying with his and with one another—for the life of the world. 71.1 2012 27 The heart of it is joining ourselves to Christ, the perfect sacrifice, to the praise and glory of God. The heart of it is begging that the Spirit will transform each one of us just as really as the bread and wine so that we become more and more Christ's Body in truth, not just in name. The heart of it is learning over and over again to say "Amen" to all of these realities and—at least some-times— actually meaning it. Meaning "Amen," meaning yes I will try to live, in deed, in the coming days, what we have just enacted in word and ritual action. I conclude with a favorite reflection of mine on the word "Amen." Be careful of simple words said often. "Amen" makes demands like an unrelenting schoolmaster: fierce attention to all that is said; no apathy, no preoccupation, no prejudice permitted. "Amen": We are present. We are open. We hearken. We understand. Here we are; we are listening to your word. "Amen" makes demands like a signature on a dotted line: sober bond to all that goes before; no hesitation, no half-heartedness, no mental reservation allowed. "Amen": We support. We approve. We are of one mind. We promise. May this come to pass. So be it. Be careful when you say "Amen."10 Notes 1 Cf. Sunday Celebration of the Word and Hours (Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995). This book contains the Sunday collects prepared by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy for the Missal of 1998, since withdrawn. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 28 2 David L. Fleming sj, "The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises: Understanding a Dynamic," in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981) 11. 3 General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 2003, §29, paraphrase. 4 GIRM, § 65. 5 GIRM, § 9. 6 GIRM, § 79. 7 David L. Fleming sj, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978) 3. 8 Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Dacre Press, 1945) 744-5, passim. 9 Ibid. paraphrase. 10 Barbara Schmich Searle, "Ritual Dialogue," Assembly 7:3, February, 1981. Obedience You have had my yes for years– and I have had yours since the sun, the seashells, and the storms at sea. But now, ah . . . you and I are more than yes. As time moves with, within, and around, this yes of ours takes on wings, takes on colors I never imagined, challenges that strengthen and soften me, glory that stills me, stirs me, extends and opens me. It becomes a murmur of love that we share. Love that frees me and compels me to choose you again and yet again . . . that I might respond as I wish to respond . . . openly, knowingly, even a little mysteriously . . . as the bush in the desert responded to flame. Kimberly M. King rscj 71.1 2012 ronald mercier 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week of the Spiritual Exercises S travinsky's "Rite of Spring" caused a furor when it was first performed in 1913, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it expresses something important, and not only from a musical point of view. At the tail end of the piece, the "Sacrifice," Stravinsky tries to cap-ture the human spirit in its "pagan"—pure—form. You might want to find a recording of it and play it before you read further. Cacophony—there's no other way to describe it! Bad sound. It assaults the senses. It builds to a crescendo and with the violence of spirit that leads to the sacrifice of a human, a woman who dances herself to death for the Ronald Mercier sj is associate professor of theology at Saint Louis University and rector of the community where Jesuit scholastics pursue the study of philosophy and theology. This article was originally given as a keynote presentation at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V on July 22, 2011, in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments can be addressed to him at Bellarmine House of Studies; 3737 Westminster Place; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 30 sake of the community. It is violence that can kill and wound and send to hell, to use Ignatius's words from the Incarnation meditation. In the ballet that goes with the music, there is a frenetic dance that is almost a form of madness. No wonder people were so challenged by the music; this is not about some nice ethereal enjoyment, but is a revelation of what can shape the human heart and actions. This revelation opens to our fears but not to our hopes. Curiously, the music ends with a bang, a loud discor-dant chord that leaves us waiting for something more. We would like some kind of resolution at this point, but we are left with utter silence after that dramatic end. We wait, but the music just ends. Or does it? For me, this piece leads to a reflection on the transition from the Third to the Fourth Week in the Ignatian Exercises, a movement out of a murderous drama into a disorienting grand silence within which the Fourth Week dawns. I would like to invite you to sit with Ignatius in what we would name "Holy Saturday," a place he sketches as the space for contemplation within which we experience Resurrection. My thesis is simple: Without the grand silence of Holy Saturday, the "seventh day" for Ignatius, we do not experience the joy and freedom of the Fourth Week. Waiting in the transition—a transition into, not out of, emptiness—allows for creation of the space into which the Risen Lord comes, if we let the quiet ripen. The music of Stravinsky captures the movement of the Third Week, a drama of human making. We walk with Jesus as he experiences being sacrificed for "the good of the people." Curiously, Ignatius invites us to experience the Passion, but he does not describe the gore that would have been standard fare in the spiritual-ity of his time. No doubt he assumed that people knew 71.1 2012 31 the specifics of the passion, crucifixion, and death from the religious imagination of his time. I wonder, though, whether that is all. It strikes me that we are invited into two spaces: the fullness of the world upon which the Trinity gazes in the Incarnation mediation, but also the reality of the Trinity's desire effected through what happens in these moments. In this transition, we fulfill the movement of the Incarnation meditation. Ignatius certainly invites us to "consider what Christ our Lord suffers in His human nature . . . [and] to strive to grieve, be sad, and weep" (SpEx §195). We "must be with the Lord in his suffering, [and] follow him unto his death," lest we be "simply spectators at a Passion event which may be very touching, but which in no way dis-turbs the egotism of our lives,"1 as Gilles Cusson so nicely puts it. We experience with Jesus what human egotism can do, the dramatic clash that seeks sacrifice to maintain some order. Ignatius's contemplation of the Passion has little to do with Mel Gibson's hero worship; we con-template one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Yet, Cusson also says that we need to attend to Ignatius's Fifth Point, "how the divinity hides itself; . . . it could destroy . . . but does not do so" (SpEx §196). What is God about in Christ? What goes beyond the "work of our hands," the murderous sacrifice, and actu-ally effects the will of the Trinity? Is God violent? Is We contemplate one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 32 this the "divinity [who] hides"? Or is the violent god our god? What occurs when our dramatic violence ends? For me, personally and as a director, this question is never academic. The temptation to remain specta-tors or to wonder at the horrors of the Passion—and so to remain distant from it and from the Resurrection— always presents itself as a path of light, as "really feeling bad" for Jesus, and perhaps knowing real (even mur-derous) anger toward those who create perverse tor-tures for him. The experi-ence of the Fourth Week then somehow appears too remote, not surprisingly, and not only because by that time we know the exhaustion of having given ourselves so radically to prayer. But if we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week, a joy so different from the transient happiness that we may whip up but never suffices for the long-term journey. And the Fourth Week is really for the long haul, not transient at all. What alternative remains? Consider for a moment where Ignatius leads us. As he did in the contemplation on the Incarnation, he places us with the work of the Trinity and with Mary. This gives us our transition point and deserves some pause. Notice how he frames our prayer at the end of the week, the time of transition: One should consider as frequently as possible . . . that the most Sacred Body of Christ our Lord remained If we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week. 71.1 2012 33 separated from the soul, and the place and manner of his burial. Let [the exercitant] consider, likewise, the desolation of our Lady, her great sorrow and weariness, and also that of the disciples (SpEx §208, Seventh Day). Two dimensions frame the time after the death of Jesus on the cross, two movements that invite us into a depth within which resurrection happens: the experi-ence of death in Jesus and its impact on those (like us) who love him. Resurrection, Cusson rightly suggests, never becomes a topic for consideration, but encounters us in and through the one whom we love and who has conquered death, a "confirmation from above surpass-ing all human hope."2 Let us stay, though, for a moment with the two aspects Ignatius gives us not so much as a conclusion to the Third Week as the door through which the Third Week becomes, or opens to, the Fourth Week. We have in the Christian tradition a powerful sense that the Paschal Mystery—the death, coming to the dead, and Resurrection of the Lord—never constitutes the past, something complete and over, but, rather, remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, the space within which joy dawns for us and for all who know the Risen Lord. Two things, then, shape this contemplation, which really becomes the shape of "the seventh day," a con-templation of the Passion as a whole. First, Ignatius begs us to consider the fullness of the death of Jesus because, without an experience of that fullness, we really cannot complete the journey of the Third Week (and of the Incarnation) or comprehend the fullness of the ways in which Jesus' ministry touches and shapes our lives and our world. We need to ponder, prayerfully, what it Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 34 means for Jesus to "remain separated from his soul," to know death, not just to "be killed." Let me suggest that this consideration never rep-resents some thought exercise or parlor game. In our culture we often trivialize death and, in fact, avoid the topic completely or paper it over with euphemisms. We do not say that people die, but that they "pass away." We make the reality so antiseptic, so unreal, that we actually generate a fear of death that drives us even to try to con-trol it, like some unruly passion. Humans have always feared death, as the social critic Ernst Becker makes clear. In our modern North American culture, though, we have created a kind of nightmare; we rarely encoun-ter the reality of someone's dying. Even worse, people have to die not freely as Jesus did, but alone, caught up in our medicalized model. Alternatively, we can make death into a mere video game: how many can we kill? By contrast, Ignatius invites us to a thoroughgoing realism. In Jesus' death, we contemplate the fullness of his human death, freely embraced for us, the fullness of the trajectory of the Incarnation. We are invited to consider especially his embrace of abandonment. Hans Urs von Balthasar, the great Swiss theologian and pro-foundly Ignatian thinker, asks us to ponder just what this means, as a path toward hope: The Redeemer showed himself therefore as the only one who, going beyond the general experience of death, was able to measure the depths of that abyss.3 Think about that with me for just a moment. For Balthasar (and here he places himself in the whole strand of Christian mystics) we desire to shield our-selves from death. We may have "the general experience of death," but we seek to hold it at bay, often at great cost. No one wants to die, of course, and from time 71.1 2012 35 immemorial we have created lovely myths of "afterlife" as ways of avoiding the fullness of what we would expe-rience in death, so that we do not really die. Instead, Ignatius invites us, in the wake of the cry by which Jesus freely gives up his spirit and accepts death, to consider what it would mean for someone freely and fully to enter into the realm of Hades, of Sheol, in which, as the psalmist says, "no one can praise You." In Jesus, God goes fully to claim the reality of human death and dying as God's very own. Balthasar uses the image of the abyss—a wonderful image—for this. We need to ponder, not morosely but in faith, the full tra-jectory of the Third Week. Ignatius places us there and asks that during the Seventh Day—however long it might be—we continually call that reality to mind and keep it before us. He invites us there in place of repetitions or Applications of the Senses, because in pon-dering the fullness of the death of Jesus, in letting it "ripen to fullness," as it were, we begin to grasp the fullness of what it means that he dies for our sake, that he goes where we would not go. If, as David Fleming, John Futrell, John English and many others suggest, the Last Supper sets the tone for the Third Week, here we know what it means to "be broken and poured out," even to the fullness of death itself. We have been praying for the grace of freedom throughout the Exercises, and in a sense here we encounter freedom in its fullness. Balthasar notes what freedom—in its purest form, free from all stain of sin—would mean: "And precisely in that did his mortal anguish and God-abandonment differ radically from the habitual anxiety of the sinner." 4 Jesus freely—and with-out defense—walks the way ahead of us, embraces our path. Jesus claims the fullness of death as a space within Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 36 which to meet us—thus, the implication of the seventh-day exercise. We can—and do—often hurry by the real-ity, or simply marvel at the wreck of a corpse in the Pietà. Ignatius, according to Balthasar, invites us to let death be full, that we might know freedom with Christ, freedom for our mission ultimately, freedom to love "even to death itself." No masochism or delectatio morosa marks this moment, but only a profound invitation to explore what we fear with the One who has gone the way before us. For Ignatius, that remains key. If Resurrection cannot grasp the fullness of what death means, if it can-not meet us in the anxiety that would hold us bound and create the kind of craziness that marks our death-obsessed culture, it remains but a "nice idea," easily dis-pensed with, perhaps. For Balthasar, Jesus delves into death as abandonment, freely, without losing hope, but relying completely on the God who alone can overcome death. Imagine "separation of soul and body" in its totality, without the experience of Resurrection that often shields us. Jesus embraces that. This descent remains but part of the story for Ignatius, since he invites us to place ourselves with Mary and the disciples in their desolation—an impor-tant context. The imagery of that placement reveals a deliberate quality in two ways: it prepares us to encoun-ter the Risen Lord and accept our mission. In one sense, of course, we explore the same space as previously, explore what it means for Jesus to have died—but now from the perspectives of those left behind. Again, Ignatius invites us to contemplate with Mary—and to some extent with Mary Magdalene—to share space and time with women who also embrace the "empty space" without defense, freely. The sinlessness of Mary parallels Jesus' own condition, and invites us 71.1 2012 37 to imagine how she, whose heart knew only openness, would experience the "separation" of soul from body. In her once again, Ignatius asks us to confront death as death, in its fullness in Jesus, in one whom we pas-sionately love. While I will focus on the encounter with Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a basic form of the Resurrection con-templations, I do not mean to suggest that one must force people to engage that path. Eventually the pattern of the Exercises does lead us there, but as John English suggests in Spiritual Freedom,5 a directee may find it difficult to enter into the purity of Mary's openness to encounter the Risen Lord; a person may find more fruitful prayer with the grief of Mary Magdalene, or the guilt of Simon Peter, or others. Still, the fullness of that openness to the Risen Lord brings us back to the full "yes" of Mary, mother of Jesus, as a paradigm of freedom. We have probably all known a parent who has lost a beloved child. As I write this I cannot help but think of the parents of a young Chinese student who failed at university and chose suicide in the face of despair. I cannot begin to imagine the grief of soul such a moment would entail for those parents; nor can I imagine the added burden of feeling guilt for having laid on a child expectations that he could not fulfill. That empty space of a dead child shocks us; "it should not happen," we say quite rightly. Parents should die before their children do. The empty space becomes almost too much to take in, though with Michelangelo's Pietà we catch a glimpse of how a face might appear when gazing on that emptiness. Yet, for the director at this point in the Exercises, especially in the face of what happens in the transition, an important distinction remains. Monty Williams, in a work in progress that he shared with me, advises that we Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 38 note two different paths as one encounters fear, notably the fear of death. There are two ways of being present to our fears. We could look at them and wonder how we can be so stupid, and then make the plans . . . to ensure those mistakes never happen again. . . . The other way . . . is to experience the amazement. . . . The more we ponder . . . it, the more we are filled with a sense of wonder—which gives no answer. That wonder, that sense of amazement, is our first awareness of the presence of God in the space we have created by looking at our fears. As Williams frames it, two choices remain. We can panic and move into flight or analysis or simply an excess of emotions to make us feel better. Or we can be attentive, in the face of such fears, to an empty space without answers—a much harder place to be. When Ignatius invites us to contemplate, to recall Mary, all of those spaces we have known in the Second Week come to mind. Mary remains for us always the one who attends, who does not withdraw, even in the face of the horror of the slaughter of the innocents, but who pon-ders. The path of our entry into the Seventh Day parallels Mary's path, and a director looks at whether the exerci-tant gets caught up in his or her own pain or can ponder the empty space with Mary—that dreadful emptiness the church hints at in stripped altars and empty tabernacles after the Good Friday service. With Mary, we hear the invitation in freedom to know our beloved Jesus as dead. A terrible space, but not a maudlin one! We hear the call to compassion, to attentiveness, to let an empty space open. In essence, Michelangelo's Pietà invites us not to wild grieving but to face the reality of Mary holding her dead son. Attentiveness is a state of waiting, but for what? 71.1 2012 39 I can't help but remember Mary Oliver's powerful poem "The Uses of Sorrow," which captures so much of what I think Ignatius presents to us in constructing a place for prayer: (In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.6 The poem admirably catches the difference between panic/analysis and attentiveness as ways of responding to the human—and here divine—reality of death. For us the path takes time; Ignatius invites us on the seventh day to recall this to mind again and again, but the full process may well be the journey of our lives and our dying. However, contemplating the loss of Jesus is but one dimension. With Mary—and with the disciples—we are invited to ponder the world in which, as Cleopas said, "we had hoped" but which is now a space of desolation. We face the fullness of what Ignatius means when he invites the retreatant to see and consider the Three Divine Persons. . . . They look down upon the whole surface of the earth and behold all nations in great blindness, going down to death and descending into hell (SpEx §106). The reality of human violence is seen in its full-ness in this moment, especially when, with the disciples, we see that violence is also part of their lives—in their abandoning their Master. With Mary and them, the full brutality of violence in the name of God, yet murder-ous of God, comes home to us in all its savagery. No doubt they had seen or heard of crucifixion before. This Roman "tool" helped maintain fear in the populace by destroying its memory of the one killed, lest anyone else Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 40 attempt to do what the crucified one had done. We can all rationalize human cruelty to suit our purposes. Here, though, their Master, Lord, Mentor, the one who healed, raised from the dead, preached Good News—the one they loved—becomes the victim of such cruelty. With him, the hope he had proclaimed also becomes a victim, exactly as the Romans would have desired. Hope is too dangerous a drug to a people fac-ing death. Is the reality of what Cleopas proclaimed— that "we had hoped"—also dead? With Mary and the disciples, we gaze on the empty space in the wake of the cross, and we know the dying of our hopes, of the ways in which all of our plans and expectations go to the cross with Jesus. Our history, our world, hangs in that balance. As director, how often have I sat with people who, in the wake of Jesus' death and burial, have to encounter again their own history of violence—received, experienced in others, commit-ted! The call to attentiveness in this space where our wounded history is made so evident places the past and the future in the balance. If in the first movement with Jesus and Mary we know the fear before death, in this second movement perhaps we face the fear of living in a world mediated by violence, a violence that we can usually hold at bay or ignore by switching the televi-sion channel. Yet, in this transition place, we face the brokenness and "poured-out" quality of our world, and we hear the call not to stronger forms of violence or retribution but to attend in that quiet space and know the fullness of a hope that might have died too. So many people live in this space. It is not theoretical. So, for me, the power of Stravinsky's piece, build-ing to that awful crescendo, that cacophony of death, followed by nothing, silence, lies in wanting some reso- 71.1 2012 41 lution other than the sacrifice. He captures well what those first disciples must have been going through on their "seventh day," after the terrible dramatics of human violence, cruelty, power; now Mary and the others know an empty silence made all the more desolate by what had come before. Building better plans, creating monu-ments, assigning guilt or blame—all of these would have tempered the grief. Instead, we hear the invitation to silence, to attentiveness. It may be that real forgiveness, hope, and resurrection can occur only in such silence. Ignatius places us before those realities that so easily move us away from attentiveness—fear of death and fear of violence or rejection—as a space within which some-thing very different—freedom—can arise. This experience could well represent a kind of "downer" for us, but need it be so? The sense of the deaths we experience—whether the physical death that Jesus freely embraces or the death of our illusions about the world and our patterns of dealing with it—create, as it were, a wasteland, an emptiness before which we stand and pray with Mary and the disciples. Its all-encompassing nature seeks to enlarge our freedom by placing before us our fears. Facing the wasteland yields fruit not in darkness or desolation (though we do indeed pass through these) but, as Antonio Valentino noted in a Directory written in the first generation after the death of Ignatius, aims at perfection in prayer and work, holding always God before one's eyes with gentleness and consistency, and remembering God whenever we think, speak or act.7 If we are moving toward the Contemplatio here as a mode of engaging the world, then this transition that "clears the ground" can yield an abundant harvest. We are left waiting for God's action—not ours. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 42 I do not use the imagery of "clearing ground" acci-dentally. I find myself touched by the way in which one deals with one sweep of contemplation, which clears, seeds, and bears fruit in ever deeper ways. Think through with me the extraordinary introduction to the Fourth Week that piggybacks on what we have seen. As Cusson mentions, when Ignatius presents the medita-tion on the first resurrection appearance (SpEx §299), he offers a first point, nothing else; the simplicity of the perspective shines through: "He appeared to the Virgin Mary." Ignatius sees no need for second or third points, as are given in all the other meditations. It is a unique tableau.8 Ignatius does complete the sweep from where we have been: His soul, likewise united with the divinity, descended into hell. There he sets free the souls of the just, then comes to the sepulcher, and rising appears in body and soul to His Blessed Mother (SpEx §219). We have before us the same matter as in the con-templations on "the seventh day" of the Third Week; the setting does not change. What happens arises from within where we find ourselves as we attend to the empty space at the end of the Third Week. Our entry into the Fourth Week comes not because we will our-selves to joy. Rather, in the space that death and vio-lence have laid waste, Resurrection dawns like light and, with it, love, joy, and hope as the fruit. We do not change spaces for Resurrection, for the Fourth Week; rather, we extend the Third until it bears fruit. As director, I cannot overemphasize how hard it is to keep people focused at this point; exhaustion has set in. The Fourth Week regularly gets short shrift, as does Resurrection in so much of Christian life; yet, as I pray with the transition from Third to Fourth Week, I 71.1 2012 43 realize how crucial that transition point is to our ability to be in and to serve a broken but risen world. Ignatius leads us to the "hell" which Jesus has entered freely and fully, with all those who have gone before—and with us eventually—and then moves to Mary, in her home and oratory, exactly the order that repeats the end of the Third Week. I would like to move in three points—Jesus' apparition to Mary, Jesus' rising "from the dead," and the gift of joy to a world that killed and can kill still. They are related, but quite distinct too. Think of how redolent Jesus' apparition is for Mary. Ignatius does not describe it much, except for a clear allusion. He asks us to "see the arrangement of . . . the place or house of our Lady. I will note its different parts, and also her room, her ora-tory, etc." (SpEx §220). In §103 we were asked "especially to see the house and room of our Lady." The parallelism is almost exact, and, of course, David Fleming in Like the Lightning alludes to the Annunciation contemplation.9 This is not pious drivel, as some are tempted to say; this really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us—to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. After all the Sturm und Drang of the Third Week— the drama of our human violence and blood-lust, even the drama of the Last Supper that begins the Third This really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us— to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 44 Week—this dawn of the Fourth Week, of a new world, is so undra-matic. Mel Gibson would have a difficult time with it. We would be tempted to make it dramatic, and certainly the Miraflores altar-piece does so, with Jesus showing his wounds and with Mary por-trayed as quite the medieval lady. Ignatius's description, though, is so different. Certainly, as he notes in the fourth point, the "divinity here manifests itself so miraculously," though in the fifth point the man-ifestation is as the consoler, the one who brings joy in the glory of the Resurrection. What are we to make of the apparition as "con-soler"? By the way, Ignatius gives only this contemplation in the Fourth Week, though we find a number of other texts arranged from §299-312 (in the section on the Mysteries of Christ's Life), with an ever wider circle of people let in on the Resurrection. In the Fourth Week itself, one contemplation alone pre-cedes the Contemplatio, again with Mary. If we take a step back, Mary represents the free per-son who has tasted the fullness of the passage of Jesus, both into death and at the hands of a broken, murderous world. If the darkness that John evokes in the Gospel stands as a hallmark of the Passion, Mary knows that darkness fully. As we wait with her, we hear the invita-tion to know that darkness, to let our own hopes and dreams die, to recognize the fullness of what death, as God-forsakenness, means. Mary roots us in a barren 71.1 2012 45 landscape without familiar landmarks. Stark—not dra-matic. Quiet. As long as we cling to our own artifacts, the land remains cluttered, and we are unable to receive. In essence, Mary descends into a kind of hell as well, the fullness of the First Week's hell, which is not of her doing, but which is the fruit of the world we have created. The more I ponder and pray with these texts, however, the more they strike me as a new "Incarnation," but with a different order and intent. In the Incarnation medita-tion, we move from the work of God, who ponders the broken, murderous world and chooses to enter it, invit-ing Mary—and us—to share in the work of the Trinity here now. With Mary we have been placed in a God-less world, the fullness of hell. We gaze, we ponder with her, in the freedom of those who have elected to follow Jesus. Mary—and we—know what God's heart would have felt in the acute desire to set people free. We now move from the order of "this world" to an encounter with the Trinity as we know the fullness of the desire of the Trinity in the Incarnation prayer, now effected by the Risen Lord. Again, I want to stress the point: Ignatius places us with Mary as the archetype of the person of the Exercises, the free person. While in later contempla-tions we are indeed shown the rest of the Gospel story, here he asks us to share in the fullness of what freedom The Apparition to Mary Reverses the order of the Incarnation meditation From the Trinity To a Broken World To revelation of the Trinity From a Broken World Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 46 means, freedom at the intersection of our engagement with a broken world, and we wonder at the dawning of a world shot through with Resurrection. The transition of this time represents not a movement from Third Week to Fourth Week, as if we could leave the former behind as just a bad memory; rather, the transition is the on-going space of discipleship. We, like Mary, remain in a broken world, but the transition into the Fourth Week recasts the meaning of the world in a dramatic way, so that we can accept the call to serve a world still broken. Contemplation constitutes the basic hallmark of this freedom; the encounter with the Risen Lord that Ignatius sketches out occurs as an offer of new life in the midst of the contemplation of the fullness of death and sinful violence. These two elements of death and life form a diptych, as it were, for our lives and our prayer. We encounter here not merely the Risen Lord but, with Mary, the pattern of what we shall know as we await that ultimate coming of Christ to the world, and we receive a mission to act upon hope. Into that space, the risen Lord comes, not just as resuscitated—"I'm back"—but as a living proclamation of a new world, God's plan for the ultimate healing and completion of the world God so loves. From the broken world, we encounter the divinity made flesh again for us, but now glorified and risen. If Christ performs "the office of the consoler," as Ignatius says, this consolation does not simply cause a "feeling good" or even a happi-ness, but a revelation of a new world and the empower-ing invitation to dwell in that new world and extend it through time and space. That power is "joy." Joy in this case is not an affect, or even a spiri-tual movement, for Ignatius. In fact, he distinguishes between the two realities: 71.1 2012 47 as soon as I awake [I will] place before my mind the contemplation I am to enter upon, and then . . . strive to feel joy and happiness at the great joy and happi-ness of Christ our Lord (SpEx §229). Happiness we know as an affective movement, a passing reality; we feel happy when we experience cer-tain realities. We can know happiness but still be alien to joy, since happiness comes and goes, depending on the experience we feel. Happiness has an object, and in this case Ignatius does want us to evoke within ourselves the experience of happiness; the encounter becomes the cause of our happiness. Joy, however, pertains to a very different reality. Joy—and this is Christ's joy, of course, a gift of the Holy Spirit—intends not a movement of the heart, a feel-ing, but a disposition, a way of being; it is the hallmark of those who have encountered the risen Lord in the midst of surrounding darkness. Joy makes possible the freedom to go on mission into the Fourth Week—our ordinary time. That light dawns in the Resurrection, not apart from but in the midst of the darkness which Mary—and we—have known. G.K. Chesterton's lament about "joyless Christians" captures something very important here: Christianity satisfies suddenly and perfectly man's [sic] ancestral instinct for being the right way up; satisfies it supremely in this; that by its creed joy becomes something gigantic and sadness something special and small. The vault above us is not deaf because the universe is an idiot; the silence is not the heartless silence of an endless and aimless world.10 The joy we experience in the presence of the Risen Lord does not suddenly wipe away the reality of the grief we know at the experience of the brokenness of Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 48 the world and its impact on the vulnerable; rather, such joy places it all in context, allows us to see the world as it is, in the context of God's proclamation of new life and hope in Christ. The way Ignatius ends the Exercises with Mary and this twofold contempla-tion seems to suggest that this joy becomes our "new normal," what God intended in creation and effects through the Incarnation, ministry, and Passover of the Word. We often emphasize the continuity/discontinuity of the Risen Jesus; he is like but different. But is it not really also the world which is continuous/discontinu-ous? In a great line from "Lion in Winter," Eleanor of Aquitaine says, "In a world where carpenters get resur-rected, everything is possible." Exactly—and such is our hope and the cause of our joy. As contemplatives moved to action, we in the Ignatian tradition live in the intersection of the two parts of the diptych, of Holy Saturday and Easter, but with joy as the hinge, something into which we grow. The encounter with the Risen Lord in the midst of a broken world becomes the reality of our lives and a point of conversion into this "new world." In that respect, we are unlike Mary but more like the others who encounter the Lord in a gradual way, but who nevertheless grow into a joyful engagement with the world. However, we can-not separate this encounter from the work which serves life and just peace; we grow in joy and hope only if we place ourselves at the service of justice, as it were, as the thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus suggested. Yet, we are no longer simply disciples, but apostles, those sent as the Word was sent into the world, but now into a world transformed. This "new normal," a joyful realm, disorients in many ways. Please excuse me as I take a bit of a detour 71.1 2012 49 into a Byzantine theme, that of the "Harrowing of Hell," an ancient icon in the East that depicts a scene sketched by a homily from the second century. I ask you to pon-der it with me for just a few moments. We have here one particu-lar rendition of the icon, but a powerful one with three signifi-cant movements. One of these captures the Contemplation for the Fourth Week as given by Ignatius, namely that the Risen Lord sets free the souls of the just held bound before Christ's Resurrection. For Balthasar and oth-ers, this moment of encounter with the Risen Lord has become the deciding moment for them, the one in which heaven—and the second death—actually open. In that sense, we have a key moment of election again, a confirmation to "fol-low" but now in a different way—to eternal life for them. Yet this Risen Lord calls us to proclaim eternal life and freedom in this world. Second, and this evokes the reality of La Storta, the risen Christ carries the cross, but as a tool through which to break open the gates of Sheol. This Christ on mission invites us to the imagery of the Third Week, but now as a call to freedom, not to death or destruction. The order of the world is profoundly inverted here, and violence gives way to freedom. No wonder the thirty- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 50 second General Congregation could so freely embrace being "under the banner of the cross" as a mode of identification. This rising Christ changes all the imag-ery of violence, death, and hopelessness we would have taken for granted. One finds joy even in the cross—how odd—but, again, joy is not simply a moment of happi-ness but a consistent mode of being. Again, we cannot separate encounter with the Risen Lord from presence to those who know Holy Saturday and its pain or loss of hope. Last, though, for the East—and for Ignatius, I think—the implications of this little icon and of the work of Christ show free-dom in an even bolder way. A second-century homily proclaims, "I did not create you to be held captive," as does the Office of Readings every Holy Saturday. Do we ponder, though, the implications of that little line, the heart of the link between the Third and Fourth Weeks? The dynamic of the Third Week—from the human point of view—reveals the inevitability of betrayal, duplicity, shame, violence, grief, blood-lust. Not an appetizing menu, to be sure. Ignatius would ask us to contemplate the recreated world in which such patterns have lost their power forever, not just for a moment; we know their power, but as something that has passed away, both from the world and from our lives. If a counterpart to the contemplation on the Incarnation in the Second Week is the Two Standards meditation, perhaps this "diptych" does something Joy is not simply a moment of happiness but a consistent mode of being. 71.1 2012 51 similar. In the Two Standards meditation, Satan calls his demons and "goads them on to lay snares for people and bind them with chains" (SpEx §142). Christ bids, attracts, graces, to a very different world, of poverty, bearing insult and humiliation freely as a means of free-dom (SpEx §146). We have seen that first standard lived to its full-est in the Third Week; now we see Christ who in his revealed divinity, as the fullness of the revelation of the Trinity, continues to serve, to free, to attract, to bid, but now as having conquered all freely and lovingly. Do we not know here the prospect of a whole new world unbound or in the process of unbinding, a process to which Christ missions us? Does Christ not call us in this contemplation with Mary to gather companions in the work of dwelling in this contemplative yet active space? The full import of what has been "the normal" becomes ever clearer to us, even as we enter more fully into com-panionship with Mary in this contemplation. The chal-lenge to us, however, never degenerates into hopeless self-scrutinizing or, even worse, scrupulosity. We do not get forced back into contemplating our sins, as too often happens when people gaze upon the cross, or into the violent guilt or shame of the Third Week. Rather, aware of the Third Week and its full impact on the one whom we love and on the world Christ so loves, we hear the invitation to explore contemplatively a dawning world, one which opens, I think, to the Contemplatio and to our role in extending Christ's joy. James Alison, the British Catholic theologian, has written movingly on this, inviting us to consider how our cultures shape our imaginations through the pat-terns of interaction—rivalistic patterns—which for us constitute "the normal." In Christ, and I think in Mary Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 52 and the disciples, God gives us a dramatically differ-ent pattern of interaction, one that creates relationships touched by joy, not by violence or rivalry or fear. In the complementary contemplations we are given through-out the Fourth Week, we encounter many such persons, wounded in and by the Third Week, even agents of the violence of the Third Week, with whom and in whom we now encounter the pattern of joy and hope. These reflections lead me to ponder the meaning of the "Rules for Thinking with the Church" (SpEx §352-370). They are usually given as a form of Counter- Reformation ecclesiology, a guide on how to engage the debates of the mid-sixteenth century. The text contains all kinds of very context-specific allusions—echoes of debates on predestination, sacraments, authority, and the like that helped tear the church apart. We realize that the inability to attend to what the other was saying represented but one more kind of violence in an already violent age. Ignatius, of course, never had shied away from a fight. One has only to remember how ready he was to dispatch the Moor who had shown insufficient defer-ence to the Blessed Virgin, his Lady. He certainly would not be the first choice as a poster boy for pacifism. Yet, think with me for a moment about the Rules, written at a time when everyone wanted a good fight and looked, all too often, for occasions to pick a fight or score a point. Ignatius's presentation strikes me as curious in that regard, strangely pacific, to use Alison's invitation to a radically different imagination, a con-version of imagination, where our normal expectation is no longer violence or the violent god but rather of a world ordered to and by peaceful relationships. We find here none of the grand drama of the instructions to 71.1 2012 53 the Cardinal Legates to the various Diets and Councils. Instead, we find a man desperate to preserve the unity of the community, to avoid the kinds of clashes that mark his age. Perhaps when we look at the Rules for Thinking with the Church, the metaphor that I have been using— of having had the earth scorched around us and entering a new world—could be helpful. We tend to bring with us the imagery and imagination to which we have grown accustomed. We bring the patterns of guilt or shame or blame or grief or violence that we have learned only too well from the world we have known as normal. Yet, the totality of the presence of the Risen Christ to Mary— and to us—challenges any return to those spaces to which we have grown accustomed. Certainly, if Christ has "harrowed hell" and broken dominant patterns, we are in need of "a way," of his way. Might not the Rules for Thinking with the Church be Ignatius's way of inviting us to turn from the slavish obedience so alien to the freedom of the Fourth Week and to become attentive to the community of people elected in grace, graced by Risen Life, empowered by saints, who could sketch out for us and for our imagi-nation a path with and to Christ? We stand in need of a community of faith, the Church militant in the original Spanish text, which can model for us the new life revealed in and through the Risen Lord. While the Rules invite a kind of docility in seeking a way of peace and renewal of imagination found in the community of the faithful, they do not require checking one's mind at the door. At times we can, like Ignatius, grieve because of a church that shows the marks of the violence and domination of those who killed the Lord. Nevertheless we wait in the hope of encountering Christ in this com- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 54 munity, in the Holy Saturday-Easter Sunday diptych, still confident that we will contemplatively learn a way forward, not in spite of but in the pain. In a similar way, Ignatius needed the community to foster conversion out of scruples and into Christ. Still, a real encounter as is experienced in the tran-sition opens a path to community. Rooted in a new experience of the world, it is a community of peace, joy, hope, creativity. This, of course, has none of the "grand drama" of the Third Week that would thrill Mel Gibson, but it has the quiet quality of a son meeting a grieving mother who has been wounded by violence but, in joy, is experiencing the possibility of new life, the opening of heart and imagination. Quiet, not dramatic in the ways we are used to, but nonetheless a powerful and creative stance. The difference between the drama at the end of the Third Week and the quiet dawn of the Fourth invites us to know in its fullness what the Two Standards means and what Christ offers: not a crusade of our own, but an allowing of new possibilities to dawn in our age. We have seen such dawns, and their ecclesial power touches deeply. I think of Jean Vanier's L'Arche com-munity embracing the handicapped, those rejected by the world. There is the hospice movement, which rose from Dame Cecily Saunders's refusal to allow cancer patients for whom medical drama could do no more to simply go away and die. Those who serve refugees and bring a moment of tenderness and hope to fragile lives similarly stand at the confluence of this Paschal diptych. Easier, I suppose, would be to follow the temptation to take up arms and fight back or condemn, but we are invited to a very different path, not of moralism but of an embrace like that of Mary by her Son. 71.1 2012 55 We began this talk with Stravinsky's musical image of primal humanity and its lust for sacrifice, a lust that seeks "salvation for the people" in a woman condemned to die by dancing madly. The music crashes to a dra-matic conclusion followed by silence. I would like to end with a different dance, one described by Sydney Carter's words applied to the Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts," here the "Lord of the Dance." Perhaps this could evoke something of the transition to a dance that is joyous, inclusive, expansive. May this be our prayer and our path. I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black— It's hard to dance with the devil on your back. They buried my body, and they thought I'd gone, But I am the Dance, and I still go on. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. They cut me down and I leapt up high; I am the life that'll never, never die; I'll live in you if you'll live in me— I am the Lord of the Dance, said he. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. Notes 1 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 299. 2 Cusson, p. 303. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 56 3 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), p. 168. 4 von Balthasar, p 169. 5 John English, Spiritual Freedom: From an Expertience of the Ignatian Exercises to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Guelph: Loyola House, 1973), p. 247. 6 Mary Oliver, Thirst (Boston: Beacon Press), p. 52. 7 Martin E. Palmer, S.J., On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 79. 8 Cusson, p. 303. 9 David L. Fleming, Like the Lightning: The Dynamics of the Ignatian Exercises (St Louis, Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2004), p. 77. 10 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Othodoxy (Garden City, NY: Image Books, 1959), p. 160. Questions for Reflection 1. Where have I embraced the emptiness of death and how has it enabled me to experience the joy of the Risen Lord? 2. Do you have any favorite music, artwork, or poetry that helps you enter into the sacred silence discussed in this article—or that helps you understand other moments in the Spiritual Exercises or in the Gospels? 71.1 2012 57 Dolor 5: At the Foot of the Cross Giving birth is contracting to sleep with death. It is an agreement to pass on everything that has been fed, fondled, fiercely treasured, looked forward to as one looks for the first hibiscus every spring. It is a signature and seal in pledge that one will leave someone something. It holds the possibility—tormenting as tarantula's tricks— that the loved child may pass first, cursedly, of illness, mishap, quick step in the wrong place, by fate or by murderous hatred heaped upon the great. The blood and wash of afterbirth foretell that every holding close lets loose. Small fingers, small toes enlarge as mothering bellies pull back to size and shape. Flowerings green up. They will, they must, brown down with wintering. And every footfall tells an end to every earthly good, each breath started with a slap, each name begun so well that slips into what's next. Pamela Smith sscm Review for Religious 58 peter j. schineller Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes "T o find God in all things" is a commonplace of Ignatian spirituality. Books and essays on Ignatius and Jesuit spirituality have highlighted the phrase as a hallmark of that spirituality. However, in an essay entitled "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology," the late Cardinal Avery Dulles wrote that "to the best of my knowledge the expression 'finding God in all things,' does not appear verbatim in the writ-ings of St. Ignatius."1 He admits that we do find "similar expressions" in the writings of Ignatius, and adds that "it seems evident that God can be found in all things." Dulles's observation makes me wonder and leads me to the unanswerable question of whether Ignatius deliberately avoided the phrase "find God in all things." Ignatius does write in many places that we should seek Peter J. Schineller sj is the archivist for the New York Province of the Society of Jesus. He resides at America House, 106 West 56th Street, New York, NY 10019. 59 71.1 2012 and serve God in all things; but, as we will see, except for one place, he does not use the phrase "find God in all things." Jerome Nadal, one of the early companions of Ignatius, clearly believed that Ignatius had the gift or charism to "feel the presence of God" and that this experience should likewise characterize Ignatius's fol-lowers. He writes: "I shall not fail to recall that grace which he had in all circumstances, while at work or in conversation, of feeling the presence of God and of tasting spiritual things, of being contemplative even in the midst of action: he used to interpret this as seeking God in all things."2 Note well that Nadal says Ignatius interpreted this experience as seeking God in all things. So too, Pedro Ribadeneira, also an early compan-ion of Ignatius, reports that "we frequently saw him taking the occasion of little things to lift his mind to God, who even in the smallest things is great. From seeing a plant, foliage, a leaf, a flower, any fruit, from the consideration of a little worm or any other animal, he raised himself above the heavens and penetrated the deepest thought."3 And, in the Autobiography of Ignatius, Luis da Camara, who wrote down the words of Ignatius, states: "At whatever time or hour he wanted to find God, he found Him."4 (To be precise, da Camara says that Ignatius could find God at all times, not that he found God in all things.) So we ask: might there be some wis-dom or insight—or caution—in the fact that Ignatius only once uses the phrase "find God in all things"? The Sole Text and Its Context In the long letter to Antonio Brandão subtitled "Instructions given by our father Ignatius, or at his Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 60 direction . . ." we read the advice given to scholastics: "the scholastics cannot engage in long meditations . . . they can practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things; in their dealings with other people, their walking, seeing, tasting, hearing, understanding, and all our activities. For his Divine Majesty truly is in every-thing by his presence, power, and essence. This kind of meditation—finding God our Lord in everything—is easier than lifting ourselves up and laboriously making ourselves present to more abstracted divine realities."5 Again, a caution. This letter was not written by Ignatius, but at his direction by Juan de Polanco. Further, before he says "finding God in everything," he says the scholastics must "practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things." Finding that presence is not auto-matic— and, perhaps, not so easy as we might think! In the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, we read that Jesuit novices "should often be exhorted to seek God our Lord in all things . . . loving him in all crea-tures and all creatures in him" [§288]. Again, we see emphasis on the element of search. So too, in the Contemplation to Attain Love in the Spiritual Exercises, we read: "Here it will be to ask for an intimate knowledge of the many blessings received, that filled with gratitude for all, I may in all things love and serve the Divine Majesty" [SpEx §233]. Ignatius wants the retreatants to love and serve God in all; he does not write that they are to find God in all things. I wonder if the rea-son might be that Ignatius wishes to safeguard the Divine Majesty, the ever-greater God. Might it be that he fears that we will believe that we can capture or contain or iden-tify the ever-greater God in any one thing or in all things? In addition to frequently encouraging that we seek or serve God in all things, Ignatius does say that we 71.1 2012 61 can and must "find the will of God." Thus the Spiritual Exercises are a way of preparing the soul to rid itself of attachments and "of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" [SpEx §1]. And Ignatius most frequently ends his letters praying for the grace to "know God's most holy will and per-fectly fulfill it." Or, "may God in his goodness give us his abundant grace to know his most holy will and entirely to fulfill it." Even as Ignatius urges us to seek and find the will of God, he emphasizes the method and the search. He never claims that seeking and finding the will of God is easily done. It demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Today's Background, Context, Horizon In an obvious oversimplification, we might say that in our age we find two extreme tendencies: 1) the skepti-cal, secular way of underbelief and 2) the less critical way of overbelief. These correspond to two rival "isms" in our globalized world, spoken of by Fr. Adolfo Nicolás, supe-rior general of the Society of Jesus, in a major address on higher education: 1) an aggressive secularism and 2) a resurgence of various fundamentalisms.6 We might look at the cautious and critical way of Ignatius in light of these two tendencies. 1. The skeptical and secular viewpoint. Many today, including Christians, experience the distance, absence, Seeking and finding the will of God demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 62 or otherness of God. Rather than finding God in all things, they do not find God anywhere in their experi-ence. Or God is edged out by many possibilities, alter-natives, and options, by many "things" that are not God. They live in a world come of age that no longer "needs" God and are skeptical of those who find, describe, and talk of God so easily. They are critical of claims or interpretations that seem to make God into one thing among many. This objectification of God, they find, entails a loss of God's otherness and transcendence. 2. The less critical fundamentalism or overbelief. At the other extreme are the many believers who see God at work in every event. God is close and at hand. Some Christians seem to think they have a lock on God, clearly grasping and knowing the divine intentions and will for the world and for humankind. Statements to that effect indicate a temptation to reduce God to our size, to capture and lay hold of God. In a general way, two of today's thinkers reflect these two tendencies. The first is the critic George Steiner. In My Unwritten Books, a sequel to his book Real Presences, which points us to various signs of the transcendent, Steiner writes that he feels strongly the absence of God—a powerful experience of emptiness. "Awesome is the God who is not. . . . I strive to be with His sovereign absence."7 Steiner finds himself groping for and seeking God more than believing in and finding God. He adds that to be great, literature need not believe in or affirm God, but at least must grapple with the question of God, the search and debate over the reality of God. From an explicit Christian perspective, we might also listen to James Gustafson. In an article entitled "The Denial of God as God,"8 Gustafson writes that "the history of our religion is the history of human 71.1 2012 63 attempts to manage and manipulate the awesome power of God, who is finally beyond our capacities to know fully, to capture in human thoughts and deeds. . . . It is the history of efforts to control the times and places of his presence." Gustafson asserts that we overlook this awesome reality of God: "how we want a God we can manage, a God who comes when we beckon him, a God who permits us to say that he is here, but not there; a God who meets our needs on our terms; a God who supports our moral causes and destroys the forces we think are evil; a household God and a kitchen God." Then, drawing from the thought of Martin Luther, he challenges us not to try to manipulate or reduce God, but to "let God be God." Ignatius's Balance Surely Ignatius is not guilty of this reduction or denial of God. He had a strong sense of the immen-sity and majesty of God (he loved stargazing), as well as the closeness of God (recall his meditation on the Incarnation and birth of Jesus Christ in the Spiritual Exercises [§101-117]). But can this be said of all his followers? Might some be at times guilty of oversimpli-fying, reducing, identifying God with their own prefer-ences and thus not "letting God be God"? To put this more boldly; if we think it easy and pos-sible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God—the transcendent God—in or above any things? Emphasizing the finding of God in all things could become misleading and wrongheaded because it misses or misinterprets the special presence of God in some particular times, places, events, and things. Might this approach be similar to the positive emphasis on the generous and widespread presence and Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 64 offering of God's grace to all persons. If that view, good in itself, is pushed to the extreme, if all is grace, then we no longer distinguish between grace and non-grace, between grace and nature. Or, if all ground is seen as holy ground, then we might overlook or undercut the special presence or intervention, the special rev-elation of God. If we hold that everything i s sacred and noth-ing is profane or secular, then we could also hold the reverse, that nothing is sacred. Ultimately, it seems important and necessary that we maintain the distinction (not separation) of sacred and secular, of grace and nature, of the God who is in all things and yet above all things. Ignatius also writes of one other thing that Jesuits should seek in all things—namely, greater abnegation and continual mortification! "The better to arrive at this degree of perfection which is so precious in the spiritual life, [the] chief and most earnest endeavor [of the Jesuit candidate and those in formation] should be to seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortifica-tion in all things possible; and our endeavor should be to help him in those things to the extent that our Lord gives us his grace, for his greater praise and glory" [General Examen of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, §103]. While the seeking of mortification does not pre- If we think it easy and possible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God— the transcendent God— in or above any things? 71.1 2012 65 clude the effort to seek, find, and serve God in all things, surely it derives from a very different, and more sober perspective. It offers a balance to an overly posi-tive, totally one-sided incarnational spirituality. Ignatius is reminding us that the God or Christ that we seek and serve in all things is the Christ of the cross (abnega-tion and mortification) as well as the Christ of glory who comes with power. Thus Ignatius can write regard-ing the qualifications of the rector of a college, that he should "be a man of great example, edification and mortification of all his evil inclinations" [Constitutions, §423]. The ideal superior is one who both practices mortification and seeks to find God in all things! Living with and Maintaining the Tension Deus Semper Major—God Ever Greater—is the title of the monumental work of Erich Pryzwara sj on Ignatius of Loyola.9 The God of Ignatius, the God we seek, find, love, and serve is ever greater, always more. God is in all, but also always above all. Ignatius had the ability to keep seemingly opposing tensions or ten-dencies in view—prayer and action, contemplation and action, the local and the universal, trust in God and trust in our talents and efforts, and obedience and free-dom. In these reflections we are pointing to 1) the ten-sion between the God in all things, and the God above all things and 2) the possible tension between seeking God in all things, and finding God in all things. It seems best and most creative to hold on to both elements of these two tensions and not eliminate one or the other. In one tension we hold that God is in and also above all things: incarnate, indwelling, working in the world, and yet, in keeping with the fourth part of the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, above Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 66 and beyond, the source of all. In the second tension, we maintain both the seeking for and the finding of God. St. Augustine writes that we would not seek God unless we had already found (and been found by) God. So I am simply suggesting that rather than conflate the two, or eliminate one or the other, we place a bit more emphasis on the seeking and searching, and less on the finding, in accord with Deut. 4:29: "from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find him if you search after him with all your heart and soul." A Caution and a Challenge Does this mean we should not use the phrase "find-ing God in all things"? No. It is in common use and does reflect the way Ignatius was interpreted by his contem-poraries even if Ignatius was normally reticent in using it. At the same time, we should use the words carefully and with awe, recalling that God is always greater and beyond. We dare not think we have captured God. We can preserve and use "finding God in all things" if we emphasize the search, the process, the prayerful effort of trying to find God in places and events around us. Two final cautions: Meister Eckhart said that "Foolish people deem that they should look upon God as though he stood there and they here. It is not thus." God is ever greater, ever here, and ever beyond. We might recall, too, the words of Fr. John Courtney Murray when he saw a poster to be used at a demonstration. Expressing the spirit of the times and a commitment to faith and justice, the poster read: "God Is Other People!" Murray is reported to have said "They forgot the comma after the word 'other.' It should read: 'God is Other, People!' " Probably the strongest challenge now is to seek and find God in the cities, in the world of technology and 71.1 2012 67 computers. We should not seek to find God only in sun-sets and stars and in the least of the sisters and broth-ers, but also amid skyscrapers and elevators, amid steel and concrete buildings, amid asphalt streets, on subways and in airplanes—wherever God seems to be edged out, overlooked, or denied. If the challenge seems daunting, we might be consoled by the words St. Augustine attri-butes to God: "you would not search for me unless you had already found me." And, we might add, we would not search for God "unless God had already found us." Notes 1 Avery Dulles sj, "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology." America (26 April 1997): 16. 2 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Mon. Nadal, iv, 651. 3 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Vita Ignatii Loyolae, in Fontes Narrativi, iv, 742. 4 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography, §99. 5 Ignatius of Loyola: Letters and Instructions, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2006), p. 342. 6 Adolfo Nicolás sj, "Challenges to Jesuit Higher Education Today." Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 40 (Fall 2011): 9. 7 George Steiner, My Unwritten Books, (New York: New Directions Books, 2008), p. 209. 8 James Gustafson, "The Denial of God as God." Criterion (Autumn 1977): 6-9. 9 Erich Przywara sj, Deus Semper Major: Theologie der Exercitien (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1940). Review for Religious 68 In Distressing Disguise for Agnes Gonxha Bejaxhiu he's a lonely old man dandruff dusts his faded black shirt some polyester blend shiny, holding odors of sweat and cigarettes and left-overs some of which remains on the front of his trousers the purple around his neck shabby, soiled, worn-out even burned a little in one place careless as he is with his smokes over my head his palsied hand trembles and to my ears come mumbled words of grace while my heart strains to see Him, to see His true face, here before me in distressing disguise. Sean Kinsella Winter Sunset At exactly five-fifteen p.m. the over-ripe sun paused a second on the town's rim, all the horizon's color sealed in its neon pulp. I could hardly stop gazing, sure it would burst and spill red-orange juice, winter's redemptive blood, across the Western sky. Patricia Schnapp rsm The Warmth, the Will, and the Way The dilemma is that I am not making very steady progress on my spiritual journey. This leads me to think that I need more consistency. Since I already live "a stable way of life" as a member of a religious order, my basic direc-tion is set. I see that this way of life is leading me where the deepest currents of my heart want me to go. But despite that general clar-ity of direction, I find myself dawdling along, sometimes going backwards, often wandering off to explore some curiosity, rarely totally focused on the path, much less on the goal, of this particular journey on which the Way is also the End. We often pray that the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts and "enkindle in them the fire" of 71.1 2012 sharing experi-ence 69 ben harrison Ben Harrison mc is a Missionaries of Charity Brother. He has worked in formation and has journeyed, in the U.S. and Europe, alongside homeless people, prisoners, addicts, and other people on the margins of society. His email is . Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 70 his love. Once on a retreat I was complaining to the director that I didn't feel any sense of God's presence, and he assured me that I wouldn't be feeling the absence if there weren't a kind of presence; the longing itself was a sign of the Spirit's presence. If I could welcome that longing as a warming presence rather than endure it as a chilling absence, it would help to enkindle the fire of his love. When I speak of this warmth of heart I am not talk-ing about seeking emotional experiences in prayer but rather of finding that sense of inner presence that is so important in the prayer of Eastern Christianity. My mind and the actions it inspires range all over the place, but if I am attentive to that warmth in my heart, the inner pres-ence not only influences my thoughts and feelings but also anchors my actions and desires. This sense of warmth, then, helps me to be more consistent on my spiritual way. I frequently have very good insights, and for a long time I thought that they could keep me centered. I often thought, "Oh, what a brilliant idea! If I can only remember that every day, I will be set for life." And so I would make a note and stick it on the door, or I would write a prayer and say it every morning, until it became so routine that what I was saying didn't even register. Soon I would have another brilliant insight with life-changing potential. Such thoughts are like matches that provide real fire, but only for a few minutes. Then, unless the match is touched to a candle or to a heap of kindling, it is spent. I need something more reliable than insights. I need something more reliable than insights. 71.1 2012 71 Perhaps the secret is to do what would be done in a cottage in the woods: continually add fuel to the fire, a log at a time, to keep it burning. Then, late at night, bank the coals, rake them together in a little pile so that the heat will not dissipate. A few glowing embers will remain in the morning, upon which new kindling can be placed and fresh wood arranged so all is ready to warm the beginnings of the new day. That way the hearth never grows cold. I am discovering that this warmth of heart is a sign of the Spirit's presence with me, abiding in me, direct-ing me toward the goal. But there is something else that seems to be essential in order to deepen that presence and strengthen God's claim on me—what I would call will. The desire is there: the forward impulse, the yearn-ing for the heights, the longing to surrender my being to the One Who Is. What is the difference between this desire and will? To wish for something is to entertain a desire for it; to want it is to own that desire; to will it is to act on that desire, to put it into operation. Will has about it an element of determination. And it is not something I can drum up within myself. It has to be given. St. Paul says, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil 2:12-13). Will and the Vows As I think about my vocation, I would say that my will is expressed, above all, by the vows. My vows are the way I demonstrate to myself, to God, and to oth-ers this desire to belong totally to him. The Latin verb for will is volo, velle, and the Latin verb voveo, vovere means vow or wish. Though etymologically the roots of volo and voveo do not seem to be related, there is, Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 72 to my mind, a consonance of meaning. The vows of religious life are a way of making concrete the double-edged desire that is God's desire for me, expressed in a call—a word spoken silently in the heart—that awakens a reciprocating desire in me. His desire to give himself completely to me sets that very same flame alight in me so that I desire to give myself irrevocably to him. The gentle fire of the Spirit's warmth that God enkindles in my heart is drawing me, slowly but surely, toward the blazing glory at the heart of God, and my vows repre-sent the power of that attraction and my determination by God's grace to reach that goal. I see the vows of religious life as the embodiment and expression of the will to be united with God and to give myself to him totally in a particular context, in response to his gift of himself to us in Christ. This is so whether we are speaking of the monastic vows of obedi-ence, stability, and conversion of life or the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience (or, for that matter, similar sets of vows or promises: those of priest-hood or sacramental marriage, of virginity or service, of oblate-hood or lay association). From primitive times a vow was a solemn promise to make some gift or sacrifice to a divinity as an earnest of a good requested or in thanksgiving for a boon received. Although on a literal level this sounds like a type of bargaining or commerce, I can also see it as a way of demonstrating to myself and my God how important something is to me, how sincerely I desire it, how des-perately I need it, how serious my intentions are. The medieval king might have prayed, "Lord, defend us from the threat of these brutal enemies and I will build a church for your glory." Or a mother may pray, "Lord, if you spare my daughter from this dread disease, 71.1 2012 73 I will do everything I can to support research for its cure." Or a widow may say, as one I know did, "Lord, if I am spared from this condition leading to blindness, I will never use my eyes to take pleasure in what is not good and pure." Thus we see how a vow is an expression of a wish for some good for oneself or others. The Italian word for such a commitment is impegno, which can be translated as "pledge." Literally, some-thing given in pegno is pawned. By the vows I am putting the treasure of my earthly life in pledge for a higher good. I am putting my security, my posterity, and my liberty in pawn for something I need more urgently. What is it, in this case, that I need so urgently? I need the grace to live up to this persistent impulse to give myself—an impulse that God has placed in my heart. I know that the faith, hope, and love in me are too weak and faltering to do the job, to get me where I yearn to go. And so I pledge what I have to him and entrust my poor being to him, not to pay him for what he freely gives, but to show him (and myself) that I am serious about following him and that I trust him with this pre-cious but paltry gift of my life, trust that he will keep it safe and see it redeemed and restored in his own time. Pledging my life to him, I am confident that he will give me the grace I need to live each day. In the world of commerce, one pawns something of value for ready money—something that has value but is not spendable, for something that can be spent. The ready cash makes it possible to buy what is needed today. Another word for this ready cash is currency, also called fluid or liquid assets. All these words—"current," "fluid," "liquid"— suggest an action of flowing and remind us of the Spirit, that spring of living water that flows forth from the heart of Christ. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 74 Thus, when I make my profession of vows, I am proclaiming my faith in God and my desire to belong to him. The vows that I pronounce represent the totality of my gift of self. In the institute to which I belong, we profess the evangelical counsels—the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows are an apt symbol of the totality of my life. By dedicating to God all that I have, all that I love, and all my choices and decisions now and in the future, I am effectively giv-ing him all I am. This triad of the evangelical counsels reflects a totality of being, as do many similar triads. I have no trouble, for example, in seeing parallels between the vows and St. Ignatius's prayer surrender-ing "my memory, my understanding, my entire will." The traditional baptismal formula asks us to renounce "the world, the flesh, and the devil." Scripture tells us that we are to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind (Mt 22:37). The magi brought the treasures of the nations—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Micah tells us that our sole obligation is "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). It is easy to see how the three evangelical counsels reflect the three theological gifts of faith, hope, and love. And finally, without putting too fine a point on the comparison, I suggest that the vow of poverty is descriptive of my relationship with the Father, without whom I am nothing and have nothing; chastity reflects my relationship with the Word, the Son, who is friend, Savior, and Bridegroom of souls; and obedience is the domain of the Spirit, who prompts the content of obe-dience and makes possible its practice. The act of making vows is thus a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute, to dedicate myself to his way and consecrate myself to his 71.1 2012 75 purpose. The mutuality of giving to which God invites me does not mean a mere absorption in each other. Though I would be content to lose myself in God, he seems to want more for me than that. God wants me to share his love for others and so, by my self-offering, he unites me to his own mission—his out-pouring, in-gathering action of universal love. Thus I am given to the particular apostolates and ministries of the institute in which I live my vocation. Sometimes vows are spoken of as sacred bonds. Bonds are something that we feel gripping us, holding or securing us. If bonds are involuntary we feel them as a constraint, an injustice. If they are desired, we feel them as a comfort, a belong-ing, an embrace. I suppose anyone who makes vows feels them sometimes as a restriction and some-times as a liberation. But part of the radi-cal nature of such a commitment is the protestation that one is willing to pay the price, that one values the liberation of giving oneself more than the security of having oneself. It is a recognition that dying to self is the road to life and that the cross shared is the victory won. Like the fox in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince, I want nothing more than for the Little Prince to tame me, so that "the wheat, which is golden [like your hair], will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat." The act of making vows is a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 76 Consistency in the Way Returning, then, to my original point, I am saying that two things will help me to find a salutary consis-tency in my spiritual journey: the abiding warmth of the Spirit's presence in my heart, and the will—the determination—to yield to the relentless attraction of Jesus drawing me, and all, to himself. God's love for me in Christ arouses a reciprocating love in me. I give my poor self to him in pledge, not because I have to but because I want to, and he gives me, in return, the wherewithal to make the journey: the daily bread, the water from the rock, and the yearning for home—for the harbor—at the heart of God. Perhaps the greatest indication of his love that God has given me, from my point of view, is not his love itself for me (of which I can scarcely conceive) but my love for him, which is a sweet hunger, a soothing need. Nor is my love for him something that I can claim or that I often feel, but rather an occasional glimpse of light; a fitful melting of joy; a momentary, faint intima-tion of promised ecstasy. It is to the memory of those rare moments of tender quickening, of nostalgia for the unknown, that my will clings during the long periods of dryness, confusion, and loss. It is will that keeps me walking on the way when even the cherished memory fades and all I have left to fall back on is the Spirit's quiet presence in my heart. Indeed, it is all up to God. It is he who supports the journey from behind with his warm abiding. It is he who lures me from ahead through that hunger in my heart. And it is he who strengthens me on the way by the will to journey on. Each day's reminder of that will at work in me is the comforting burden of the vows, by which I experience within myself the debt of love, the 71.1 2012 77 yoke of gratitude, the claim of oneness by which I know that I am his. Being as I am, the fact that I do not manage to live my vows wholeheartedly is not surprising. But it is important that I feel the rub and the pinch and the chafe of them against my stubborn self. As my need and desire for God become stronger than all lesser needs and desires, so the bonds of my belonging to him will grow stronger than all my resistances. At the point that I can give myself without reserve, I will be free. And how do I dare to think that I will reach that point? St. Paul tells us that if God has gone so far as to give his Son for us, "will he not also give us all things with him?" (Rom 8:32). And Paul says further, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Phil 1:6). I trust that God would not have put this desire in my heart, and that of my companions on the way, if he didn't intend to give us the grace to see it through. Home Walking the Labyrinth at Chartres Home. Is it where I begin or end or at the middle stillpoint? Am I at home on the way? Here I am, Lord. Never far from the beginning always approaching the end continually circling the center. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious Getting with the Program P robably one of the most important graces of my novitiate was coming to realize that I had an addiction. It was a painful and embarrassing experience, and yet I have no doubt that it was the best thing that has happened to me in a number of years. During my novitiate I started accessing pornogra-phy online. It was a development I was so ashamed of that I was afraid it would herald the end of my journey into religious life. Previously I had bought magazines and sought out sexually stimulating images in films or through image search engines on the Internet. My behavior began to take root at an early age in romantic fantasy. I would fantasize about being with a girl and wooing her in some exotic setting. Even though I was sexually inexperienced and naive and did not know what adults did together between the sheets, I would some-times escape into this fantasy when I went to bed. 78 A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. He has requested that the article be published anonym

Issue 68.4 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Theology and Life Religion; Life Models ,Exemplars of Faith Sharing ,Experience QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 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. ©200~ Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, 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. ~ gournalof Ca~hohc ~pirituah~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 353 theology and life Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance Randall S. Rosenberg sketches how the theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar challenges us to ask whether theology is not simply about understanding, but about an understand-ing that includes aesthetic-dramatic encounters. How You Eat Matters A. Paul Dominic SJ draws the implications from sacrifice, meals, and human eating in the Hindu, Jewish, and Christian traditions that all human eating is truly meant to be a religious act. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 364 379 religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study Patricia Wittberg SC proposes that current religious , congregations consider encouraging social-movement organizations (SMOs) as viable versions for future religious life. Revisiting Religious Identity William P. Clark OMI carefully reflects on how Vatican I! presented religious life and brought a freshness once again to the special vocation offered by God to those consecrated by religious profession. " Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Review for Religious 389 exemplars of faith ~ Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Leo J. Heriot SDB draws upon the experience of St. Paul and of St. John Bosco to show how God may communicate with us, telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 395 On Hilda of Whitby Sister Hilda Kleiman OSB reflects on the origins and spirituality behind her new religious name, Hilda, which means "Battle Maiden." 4O4 411 sharing experience ~ World Youth Day and Religious Life William Prospero SJ describes how World Youth Day promotes consecrated vocations by providing young Catholics with a joyful experience of living the evangelical counsels. Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? Benny Phang OCarm works from an insight from John Paul lI's Theology of the Body to see the complementarity of the vocations of marriage and celibacy rather than viewing them as rivals. 427 432 443 departments ~ ,~ ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms with an Elephant in the Room Book Reviews 2009 Index 339 68.4 2009 prisms I n early January 2009, I was told that I had less than a year to live. As I come to write these reflections in our final issue of the year 2009, I share various reac-tions that have been part of the landscape over the past months. My first response to the doctor's prognosis ff)r pancreatic cancer was that it is a gift to be told that one has so many months to live and that an end is in sight. The doctor, of course, went on to give options. I could have an operation, and it would likely add some months. I could also have the operation, followed by chemotherapy/radia-tion, and it would add some months and likely some years. The doctor wanted to give me some time to think about the options, but I immedi-ately agreed with his own stated preference that I would undergo the operation and follow up chemotherapy. It seemed that medically I was in a place where I should follow the biblical injunc-tion, "choose life." The operation seemed to be successful in removing the visible cancer, and the six-month- long chemotherapy treatment has been an experimental study program including a vaccine that eliminates radiation. I have fin-ished the program as of the publication of this issue. Now I live within a wait-and-see time of measurement and ~esting. Revie~v for Religious November remains a church time to remember the dead and remind ourselves of our own mortality. I have been feeling even more attuned to the reality of my own personal dying throughout these past months so that it is easy to celebrate November liturgy. It is nice to be put "on notice"--which is how I consider the identi-fication of my cancer. The likelihood of dying is just made more real and, as it were, within reach. It allows me time to reflect and pray how I face this kind of time, what attitude I want to take, and how I want to use the time I have. It does not seem fearsome or dark. In fact, it seems full of surprises of how God wants to meet me in unexpected ways, sometimes not initially pleasing to me. I seem to be taught a lot about powerlessness, patience, and the goodness of strangers. I also believe strongly in the efficaciousness of the prayer support of others. Advent is a church time of looking forward to new life and especially of our life forever with God. It con-eludes with Christmas, a celebration of how God, in Christ, enters into our human life, never to let it go. Throughout 2009 with all its medical focus, I have con-tinued to be blessed with finding new life and I again look forward to entering into Advent with greater ¯ appreciation. Christmas will be God's own gift to me of celebrating the gift of human life for however many more months and years God intends. With celebrating Christmas, it is good to remember that we were all born to be living a life forever with God, and that remains my hope too. David L. Fleming SJ 341 The Review for Religious Advisory Board and Editorial Staff wish all of our readers a most blessed Advent and Christmas season. 68.4 2009 RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance theology and life 342 "Ihe Swiss thinker Hans Urs yon Balthasar is something of an enigma. He has been called the greatest Catholic theologian of the 20th century. He is the inspiration behind many believers who understand themselves as "orthodox" or "solid" Catholics. His work has been seen as an example of greater integration of spirituality and theology. He is the author to whom Jon Sobrino SJ refers in his reflec-tions on the "faith of Christ," a controver-sial position which has been criticized by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. His ideas about gender complementarity and women's ordination have angered many. Some scholars, with strong Thomist commitments, have vigorously criticized his Christology and ¯ soteriology. Other scholars besides Sobrino are Randall S. Rosenberg is assistant professor of religion and philosophy at Fontbonne University (a school spon-sored by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet); 6800. Wydown Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63105. Review for Religious beginning to make use of his thought to meet the con-cerns of liberation and political theology. My plan here is not to analyze all these currents. Rather, I intend to look at Balthasar's distinctive ideas about the aesthetic-dramatic constitution of Christian reality. He sees God's revelation, God's self-disclosure, as occurring first in aesthetic and dramatic forms, and he sees Christians as called to be co-actors in this "theo-drama" through liturgical ritual and a distinctive way of living. A Generational Concern Some of my attraction to Balthasar is probably gen-erational. I was born ten years after the Second Vatican Council. Although my childhood was shaped by a won-derful Catholic parish and school, my contemporaries and I still experienced what William Portier has called "the dissolution of the American Catholic subcul-ture." Not that I particularly desire a restoration of the good old days; for many, those days were apparently not so good. But it seemed to me, as I began to read Balthasar, that he was not only restoring something of the Christian vision's rich particularity and oddness, but also pointing out to people how beautifully and dra-matically that vision has enhanced all kinds of human lives, the great variety of saints most eminently. As he writes in Love Alone Is Credible, "Lovers are the ones who know most about God; the theologian must listen to them" (p. 12). It was exciting to discover a thinker who brought into his theology the witness of holy people and great texts not normally found in systematic theologians' reflection: Th~r~se of Lisieux, John.of the Cross, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Dante, to name just a few. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Cbristian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. And yet this same thinker also engaged seriously the thought of Hegel, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. In other words--Rodney Howsare has shown this in his book Baltbasar and Protestantism: The Ecumenical Implications of His Theological Style--Balthasar's theological vision had room both for God's revelation in Christ and for the works of reli-gious- philosophical scholars as legitimate moments in under-standing and present-ing Christian truth. Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. His enviable dis-play of both loving devotion and a critical engagement with modernity prompts me to see him as embodying in important ways the dual task of ressourcement and aggior-namento set by Vatican II. Christian Existence as Theo-Drama The aesthetic-dramatic nature of Christian life is shown in the Scriptures. Moses and Paul experienced, aesthetically, the beauty or glory of God in the burn-ing bush and on the road to Damascus. These aesthetic encounters were also dramatic, and they led to the rest of their lives' being high drama as well. It is a com-mon feature of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures that experiences of God are not just holy feelings; they have a vocational, missionary purpose. The first part of Balthasar's multivolume trilogy, The Glory of the Lord, describes the way we first encounter the phenomenon Review for Religious of divine revelation as beautiful. The second part of the trilogy, Theo-Drama, recognizes that God's revelation is not something we merely look at; rather, we are drawn into the drama of revelation and are called to respond. Robert Barron nicely captures Balthasar's aesthetic-dra-matic emphasis: Christianity--like painting, baseball, and philoso-phy- is a world, a form of life. And, like those other worlds, it is first approached because it is perceived as beautiful. A youngster walks onto a baseball dia-mond because he finds the game splendid, and a young artist begins to draw because she finds the artistic universe enchanting. Once the beauty of Christianity has seized a devotee, she will long to submit herself to it, entering into its rhythms, its institutions, its history, its drama, its visions and activities. And then, having practiced it, having worked it into her soul and flesh, she will know it. The movement, in short, is from the beautiful (it is splendid!) to the good (I must play it!) to the true (it is right). In my own encounter with Balthasar, I have most appreciated his dramatic emphasis. In the first volume of his breathtaking five-volume Theo-Drama, Balthasar gives attention to the drama of human existence by using writers like Shakespeare, George Bernanos, Bertolt Brecht, Eugene Ionesco, and even the American Arthur Miller in a kind of prolegomenon to his understanding of Christian existence as "theodramatic." His range of reference to Christian, non-Christian, and even anti- Christian dramatists is astonishing. He uses the theater to illuminate the risk and gravity of human life, the catastrophes and tensions that constitute our existence, and the finite time span within which we must struggle for the good, under judgment and in the face of death. The theater can offer an opening to people's encoun- 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Theology'$ Relevance 346 ter with revelation. Balthasar's theodramatic approach employs the metaphor of the world stage. As actors in history, human beings share in the Son's mission, under the Holy Spirit's direction. Just as an actor's role in a theatrical drama constitutes a limited part of the play for a particular purpose, the finite lives of persons who share in the mission of Christ, no matter their life span, dis-close meaning that is relevant for the whole of history. On a personal note, I have appreciated Balthasar's dramatic treatment of the tragic in human existence. I have made my own the following remark of Rowan Williams: "What I found in Balthasar's work was an extraordinary depth of contemplative understand-ing, along with vivid awareness of the tragic quality of human existence--the hellishness of humanity and God's involvement in it--which resonated very deeply with me." Ever since I was a child, I have been par-ticularly sensitive to this tragic dimension, a disposition that has been heightened by my wife's daily work with children who suffer from cancer. The problem of evil as it manifests itself in sickness, natural disasters, random acts of violence, war, oppression, and genocide is never far from my mind. The late British theologian Donald MacKinnon, noting that Balthasar rarely treats the horror of the Holocaust directly, adds that "the nervous ten~ion of the whole argument witnesses to the author's passion-ate concern to present the engagement of God with his world in a way that refuses to turn aside from the over-whelming, pervasive reality of evil." Balthasar does not paper over the pathos of the real world, a pathos full of darkness and ambiguity. For him, God, in the incarna-tion and passion of Jesus, "steps to his opponent's side and, from within, helps him reach justice and freedom. Review for Religious Hnitude, time, and death are not negated: they are given a new value in a way that is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, even what is hostile to God, in all its profound abysses, is not abandoned; God does not turn his back on it: it is taken over and reworked." Balthasar never taught academic theology at a uni-versity. He spent many years, however, as a university chaplain. In the Switzerland of the 1940s this kind of work was largely cultural. Balthasar the chaplain spent his time giving lectures, in the evening debating in various student societies, and giving retreats. To borrow John W. O'Malley SJ's useful catego-ries from his Four Cultures of the West, Balthasar's thought more resembles cultures three and four--"Poetry, Rhetoric, and the Common Good" and "Art and Performance"-- than it does culture two--"The Academy and the Professions." O'Malley's remarks on Erasmus could be said about Balthasar: "He felt he could criticize Scholastic theology because he had an alternative to offer: a return to the more literary and rhetorical style of the Fathers. That was the 'ancient and genuine' the-ology, quite different from the 'modern' theology. It was genuine because it was drawn directly from the sacred texts and because it had led to a 'theological life.' It touched the heart and centered on the few truths that were essential to Christianity rather than on the second-ary issues the Scholastics pursued" (p. 160). Balthasar once remarked that his study with the Jesuits, largely in Neo-Scholastic mode, was a "grim struggle with what men had made out of the glory of revelation." He Balthasar never taught academic theology ,at a university. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance 348 ~ "could not endure this presentation of the Word of God and wanted to lash out with the fury of Samson," tear "down the whole temple," and bury himself "beneath the rubble." It is often true that Balthasar's mode of presentation resembles a patristic sermon more than a scholastic treatise. In my recent experiences of presenting papers, giv-ing academic lectures, and doing job interviews, it has become evident that this aesthetic-dramatic emphasis genuinely excites scholars and ordinary laypeople. This emphasis could also be said to be Balthasar's greatest shortcoming as a "systematic" theologian. He is called "unsystematic" by those who argue for the indispens-ability of a more scientifically or theoretically con-structed theology in the manner of Thomas Aquinas. Let me address both sentiments. On the one hand, I am convinced that Balthasar's aesthetic-dramatic emphasis nurtures an appreciation for the inexhaustible mystery that resides at the heart of Christian revelation. He offers a richly symbolic and imaginative approach--one that fosters better Christian living, namely, the dramatic artistry needed for fulfill-ing our own unique missions. That is, his theology can give momentum to the religious feelings and beliefs that help us accomplish good in the particular circumstances of our lives. On the other hand, the aesthetic-dramatic emphasis is not always helpful when one does "system-atic theology" in order to answer the further questions that arise out of one's aesthetic-dramatic, liturgical, or devotional life. Balthasar's theology, besides being eclectic, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let "paradox" be the answer, rather than carefully working out a set of terms and relations and bringing a theo-logical intelligibility to the concrete conditions in which Review for Religious Christians live their lives. One is more likely to find this kind of intelligibility in Bernard Lonergan or Karl Rahner. Let me offer an example. It was my encounter with the writings of Balthasar that helped me discover the "weightiness" of the mystery of the cross. Balthasar is not content with presenting the cross as merely a consequence of Jesus' prophetic stance in the world. It is that, but it is also much more. It contains a vicarious element, which somehow involves Jesus' "taking on" the sin of the human race. Balthasar desires to do justice to a dominant theme in the Fathers, namely, the admirabile commercium, God's "wondrous exchange," with sinners. With aesthetic and dramatic power, Balthasar communi-cated to me the cross's power and centrality. And yet as questions arose--How did Jesus "take on" sin? Did he also take on our guilt? If so, did he also experience a loss of hope and the kind of darkness sinners experience?-- I became less satisfied with his systematic answers (or lack thereof). In my own research I have been more satisfied with a Thomist pattern of explanation (also not without its critics), given contemporary expression in Bernard Lonergan's writings on "Satisfaction" and the "Law of the Cross." Such writings offer terms and relations that can be used in engaging the modern sciences construc-tively. Balthasar has often prompted in me an excite-ment and concern about such theological questions Balthasar's theology, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let ',paradox" be the answer. 349 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance and then failed to give me adequate answers. In his De Verbo Incarnato, Lonergan writes that, if one approaches Christ's passion and death with primarily a "symbolic mentality," where image and feeling predominate, then one is likely to express the meaning of the cross in terms of "substitution" or "satispassion," that is, in terms of Jesus' "suffering enough" for sins. These words do not do justice to the sophistication of Balthasar's approach, but they indicate something about his theological style in general and his theology of Christ's passion and death in particular. In my estimation, because of its dramatic terminology and its reliance on the mystical experiences of Adrienne von Speyr, Balthasar's theology of Christ's passion and death is often unclear and even reckless. I wonder, though, whether this theological question, sparked by the power of Balthasar's presentation, would have occurred to me at all without his help. Balthasar himself was not concerned with meeting the requirements of a technical, theoretical, systematic theologian. He once said in an interview, "My books are not the kind of theology that belongs to the aca-demic guild and therefore they are not particularly suited for dissertations." He remarked, "I have to say that for me the only truly interesting theologians are the saints: from. Irenaeus through Augustine to Anselm, to Bonaventure, or figures that allow the radiation of holiness to show forth, such as Dante or Newman; one could also mention Kierkegaard and Solovyov." A Call for Fruitful Integration My concern goes beyond the question of Balthasar's adequacy as a systematic theologian. I have accentuated his aesthetic-dramatic approach here, but I know there are many other approaches as well. My concern is the Review for Religious shape of Catholic theology in the 21st century and the place of the aesthetic-dramatic style therein. Vv'hat does theology conceived in Anselmian fashion as "faith seek-ing understanding" mean in light of the many theologi-cal styles we have inherited from the 20th century, from what Fergus Kerr has called "the Heroic Generation"? In my discussion of the cross, I have offered a "the-oretical" or "explanatory" challenge to Balthasar's theological style. Let me now say that Balthasar, too, offers a challenge. He makes us ask: Must not theol-ogy go well :beyond understanding to an understand-ing that is aesthetically and dramatically in touch with the joys and challenges of ordinary Christian existence? Shouldn't theology be more attentive to the Mystery that is encountered in aesthetic and dramatic form in our workaday world's prayer and worship? A question remains regarding what to do with the diversity of theological styles we have inherited. R.R. Reno has suggested that "we need a period of consolidation that allows us to integrate the lasting achievements of the Heroic Generation into a renewed standard theology." Let me suggest, without adequate exposition, one possible way forward, a way which has been similarly outlined by Robert Doran SJ. The chal-lenge of this generation is to integrate three 20th-cen-tury theological movements--contemporary Thomism, the ressourcement project of la nouvelle thdologie, and the various expressions of political-liberation theol-ogy. These three movements could be of help (1) in explaining theological doctrines in a theoretical man-ner that is capable of engaging with the natural and social sciences in search of a unity of knowledge; (2) in experiencing and mediating Catholic thought and culture through aesthetic-dramatic forms; and (3) in 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance dealing with concrete human suffering of all kinds in light of the gospel mandate to transform a world in need. Such a grand vision would require sympathetic and critical conversations, the highlighting of comple-mentarities and dialectical differences, and the humil-ity to be open to revision. If such an integration were to occur, it would require doing justice in an orderly way to the richness of being human in the flow of his-tory, that is, being psychological, intellectuall rational, moral, loving, mystical, and worshipful. For this enter-prise Balthasar would certainly not have all the answers, but he would have much to contribute to it. By Beauty Tethered God of the dawn and high noon and of twilight and midnight; God of the tides and the myriad droplets of dew; God of gardenias and larkspur and tulips; by beauty, God,~ tether my being to you. Mary Anne Huddleston IHM Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC How You Eat Matters I fEatthien gti,t lAe sJeoeymous sa Sbaict rpiufizczel.i"n gIn, It hper ompoatstee ra noof tehaetr-: ing, as in every other human exercise or experience, there is surely more to it than meets the eye, or indeed the tongue or any other sense organ. Perception of such impalpable reality may take no time or consume no little time. Communicating that reality, however, normally requires time, and maybe a detour. Anyway, in the present case, the process has been for me an experience of obscurum per obscurius, though at the end it was all darum (clear), bathed in light. "Hindu Prayer: A First for Congress"--that was the title of the news item from India Abroad News Service on 14 September 2000. The news was the historic event of a Hindu priest delivering the opening prayer in the United States House of Representatives.1 The prayer ran as follows: "O God, you are omnipresent, omnipo-tent, and omniscient. You are everything, and nothing A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us about dreams in 2008. His address is Aishalton c/o St Ignatius Mission; Lethem P.O.; Rupununi, Guyana (South America). Emaih pauldominicsj@yahoo.com 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters is beyond you. You are our mother and father, and we are all your children." It continued: "Whatever you do is for our good. You are the ocean of mercy, and you forgive our errors. You are our teacher, and you guide us on to righteousness . Today, in this great hall, are assembled the elected representatives of the people of this nation. They are ready to perform their duties. God, please guide them in their thoughts and actions so they can achieve'the greatest good for all." The prayer ended with an invocation from the ancient scriptures of India. "May all be happy, may all be free from disease, may all realize what is good, may none be subject to misery; peace, peace, peace be unto all." The fact of the Hindu prayer in the U.S. Congress was objectionable and even threatening to some. Many others strongly counterprotested. Anyway, the words of the prayer cannot be construed really offensive to any-one, except of course an atheist. As a matter of fact, they breathe the deepest longings of harried humanity hop-ing in the Divinity. The way they are addressed to God smacks of no narrow Hinduism nor any sectarianism for that matter, but an inclusive theism. The God invoked is everybody's God.2 If the Hindu priest had his own traditional or peculiar thoughts about God, in no way does that show itself in his prayer. Even the concluding prayer, taken from the Hindu scriptures, sounds indeed more universal than particularly Hindu. It seems to show that genuine prayer cuts across ,barriers of religion. Everything connected with prayer in Hinduism can-not, of course, be explained thus. There are aspects of Hindu worship that are confined and meaningful only to adherents of Hinduism with its practices and tenets. Even here, however, it is wise to distinguish between what is exclusively Hindu and what is purely religious-- Review for Religious even though in practice the two are generally too inter-twined to detect. We should, however, exercise ourselves in this regard, for we can be surprisingly enriched as Christians and, what is more, find ourselves agree-ably bonded with other sincere believers. For example, though the ritual of sacrifice in various religions is dif-ferent in all of them and likely to distract and distance other people, the faith element in those sacrifices can be heartwarming and edifying to all those who can intuit it. Some reading I did about Hindu sacrifice proved to be quite inspiring. From it I got a sense of the homely and heavenly meaning of sacrifice beyond the altar's formal vesture, furnishings, and ceremony. I have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. I was confirmed in my belief when I found a simi-lar thought in a poet with a Christian background. He shares his vision charmingly and persuasively: Since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship, And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacri-ficed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.3 I have no inkling of how the poet arrived at his vision of profound truth. I can recount, however, my experience in this regard, recalling first the Hindu insight. i have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters A Hindu Adumbration The universe in the ancient Hindu vision originat-ing from the Vedic4 times of 2000 BC consisted of three worlds: the physical, the psychological, and the spiritual manitCesting themselves not as separate but congruent spheres. Fire (Affni in Sanskrit) at the physical level was obviously visible flames, like those burning a sacrificial offering to the deity. At the psychological level it was the mind exercising itself in thinking and knowing. At the spiritual level the same word was a name of God. Given the superiority of the spiritual over the physical and the psychological, the latter two were regarded and grasped as manifestations of the one supreme Spirit called Agrni, extending through the three-tiered universe. "The fire which is the sun, the fire which is the earth, that fire is in my own heart," as a Vedic verse put it pithily. One cannot miss the images of the three worlds: the sun standing for the spiritual, the earth for the material, and the human for the psychological.5 Anyone who is not at ease with this ancient under-standing needs only a moment's thought to see its con-nection with reality. For this a comparison with another religious tradition may help. In the Judaic tradition, physical fire serves the cultic needs of purification and liturgical rituals of offering. Fire that necessarily burns can signi~ blazing anger and, more importantly, the tribulation that cleanses the heart and proves the soul righteous. Fire is predicated of God's own self in theophanies of saving presence, transcendence, and benevolence. God appears as the burning bush and the pillar of fire and indeed as consuming fire (Dt 4:24, 9:3; Is 33:14). God purifies his servants and sets them afire with zeal so that the whole universe may shine in glory. Christian tradition has inherited this entire view Review for Religious and given it its own emphasis. Recall Jesus saying: "I have come to bring fire on the earth and desire that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49).6 Observing parallels in the Vedic and Biblical views of the world, one may see other ones as well. In the Vedic thought, sacrifice involves a conscious perception that the three worlds are bound together as one universe. Sacrifice involves lighting a fire and burning an obla-tion on the altar. The idea behind the ritual is that the spiritual fire that is in heaven is also buried in the earth, and so it bursts forth when stones or sticks are struck. By being burned, the gifts laid on the altar are carried to heaven. The fiery sacrifice returns all that is on the earth to its original source in heaven. The ideal of sacrifice behind this graphic picture is not absent in the Bible. Elijah's successful sacrifice when the prophets of Baal miserably failed (1 K 18:22.-38) comes to mind here. To continue still further with the inner significance of the Vedic sacrifice, as long as sacrifice is performed everything keeps returning to its origin, and human beings find themselves living in harmony with the uni-verse. When people fail in their duty of sacrifice, they interfere with the cyclic rhythm that sustains the world of which they are a part. They use the mountain of gifts without attending to their nature, thereby isolating both themselves and all things from their origin. They violate the law of the universe. But, when sacrifice is duly and gratefully done, it redounds to universal prosperity. This seems reflected in Psalm 50: "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay your vows to the Most High." The last element of all sacrifice is perhaps too obvi-ous to be striking: it is eating the sacrificial offerings. What is offered in sacrifice is normally things that peo-ple eat, and so a sacrifice ends as a sacrificial meal. But 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters In the matter of sacrifice, the universal beliefwas that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. who eats in sacrifice? Those who sacrifice, of course. But, as the sacrifice is not offered to themselves, they do not eat alone. When the sacrifice is consumed by fire, it is believed that the deity above consumes it. This understanding is highlighted in the Hindu scriptural verse: "I, the Lord, become the fire of life, and seated in the body I consume the four kinds of food." This passage is certainly obscure for many, though it is for Hindus a familiar verse (vakya in Sanskrit) of the Bhagavad Gita, perhaps the most personal of all their scriptures. Anyway, what it says links human eating with divine eat-ing. In the matter of sacrifice, the universal belief was that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. Similarly, one may well conclude that what humans eat in ordinary meals is at the same rime consumed by "the fire of life," which is none other than God dwelling in human bodies. And so a human meal itself becomes a sacrifice to God. Bede Griffiths, the English Benedictine who, along with other foreign pioneers in India, continued the Indian tradition of ashram (akin to monasticism in the Western tradition), explains the point thus: "That fire, which is in the heaven above and in the earth beneath, is in our own bodies; we offer our food in sacrifice in that inner fire and it is consumed in the fire and surrendered to God again. So a meal is a sacrifice." Here is a subtle move from a sacrificial meal eaten on occasion to daily Review for Religious meals eaten in the joyous, harmonious spirit of sacri-fice. Drawing from another stanza in the Bhagavad Gita, Griffiths concludes that "anyone taking a meal without sacrificing is a thief; this is to take the gifts of God and appropriate them to oneself instead of receiving them as gifts and returning thanks.''7 A Christian Follow-Up Such a thought can startle nominal or profane Christians who have no thought of God whatever when they satisfy their hunger and thirst or overly indulge their tastes. Normal devout Christians accustomed to their routine mealtime prayer may well find more mean-ing in their daily practice. The grace before and after meals will then become the grace of meals as sacrifice. The whole meal from start to finish becomes an exercise and experience of grace, with the grace understood in terms of sacrifice. If sacrifice involves material fire for burning the oblation, daily meals as sacrifice ought to burn with the psychospiritual fire of desire--desire not merely for food, but for the One who gives the food. The Giver of food gives not only the natural and won-derful food and drink, but also the hunger, thirst, and taste buds necessary to enjoy it. Further, through our gratefulness God raises our minds beyond the mean philosophy of eat, drink, and be merry before it is too late. Enkindled by this grate-fulness, we cannot but experience a burning hunger for God. This does not produce asceticism in us so much as refine our taste for the simple, healthy, necessary food that makes for joyous living. At the same time it enables us to find God in food itself.8 This way of eating, that is much more than munching and gulping, becomes a sacrifice by virtue of the prayer surrounding our meals. 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters As St. Paul says, food is for the stomach and the stom-ach for food, and ultimately the body is for the Lord (1 Co 6:13). Sacrificial prayer, then, from hearts burn-ing with fervor for God, rises like incense and raises people's spirits while leaving them contented with their daily bread. It is the very opposite of making a god of one's belly (Ph 3:19)9 and sacrificing to it. This talk is not farfetched or feverishly imagined. It breathes the spirit of Jesus who, being more a mystic than an ascetic, ate with much gratitude to his Abba God and with the childlike merriment of having been blessed. When necessary he gave hungry people food, but he also chided them for not understanding their hunger aright. One may learn a lot from his controversy with them as they were looking for him the day after he had miraculously fed them with bread and fish to their hearts' content (Jn 6). He unveiled to them their own undignified thoughts regarding food and satisfaction. He warned them not to work for food that cannot give life, but for the food from God that gives eternal life. "God's bread comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." Jesus told them that people do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Mr 4:4). Jesus' conduct in eating teaches about meal as sac-rifice. He takes the bread, looks up to heaven where his Abba Father dwells, gives thanks to him, and shares the bread with those around him generously, then pre-sumably eats along with them till finally making sure that nothing that remains goes to waste (Mt 14:19-20). While this pictures partly the proper Jewish uttering of a blessing such as "Praised be thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from earth," Jesus portrays more faithfully and characteristi- Review for Religious cally what his Abba intended when he led his people, feeding them with manna and so training them for life. His counsel to his eager listeners on the Mount is not to worry about food and drink. His words are meant to uplift them with the realization of their blessings on any given day, making of it a sacrifice of praise and grati-tude. The same spirit suffuses the prayer Jesus taught people to pray: "Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread" (Lk 11:2-3). Because our daily meals are ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and.uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father, Jesus began his unique sacrifice at an ordinary, if festive, meal, his last meal before he died. And there he bequeathed his new sacrifice in the form of a unique meal. It is with the same inspiration that he spoke of the heavenly life with God as a banquet of communion with God and all God's beloved (Mt 8:11, 22:2). What happens when, thinking of a penitential aspect of sacrifice, we lose sight of the sublime aspect of eat-ing and drinking? One answer is that then we cannot fully engage in the divine mystery of our Christian sac-rifice. We would even act contrary to the spirit of the sacrifice when we are not celebrating the Liturgy for-mally. The Corinthians did this, as Paul reminded them. When they came together for the Lord's Supper, they did not wait for the Lord. Paul says: "When you meet together, it is not the Lord's Supper that you eat. For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal, and one is hungry and another is drunk" (1 Co 11:20-21). To spell out an implication in Paul's words, ordinary human meals should be much like the Lord's Supper. There is or should be etiquette and the spirit of sacrifice in every ordinary meal. 361 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters 362 The Hindu version of what happens when we do not honor the sacrificial aspect of human eating is best illustrated by a Hindu story. A man sought to know from a Hindu priest the greatest being in the universe worthy of a sacrifice. Following the clear instruction, he began offering food to the newly acquired idol in his house. One day he found a rat eating the offering. Inferring that the rat must be greater than the idol, he began making his sacrificial offering to the rat, till one day he saw a cat threatening the rat. So he began mak-ing his sacrifice to the cat. One day the man's wife saw the cat on an eating spree in the kitchen and chased it away with a stick2 Made aware of this greater power of his wife, he began making his sacrifice to her. Then one day, finding the meal she cooked and served too salty, he shouted at her. She quivered at his anger. That encounter made him feel superior to his wife, and so he began to offer food sacrificially to himself. He ate and ate until he died. Can anyone be so foolish? Not in such an obvious way, but most of us are probably about half that foolish. The really wise, of course, would know how to enjoy food and drink while recognizing that they are also part of the grateful sacrifice due to God. There is something beautiful and divine in such sacrifice pervading daily life without formal rubrics and yet illumining the rubrics of the altar. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:31). Notes ~ There was a similar first occurrence of prayer, this one in Sanskrit, spoken by a Hindu in the Nevada State Assembly on 19 March 2007 and in the Nevada State Senate on 7 May 2007, both in Carson City. See Kaumudi USA-News, March 2007 (front page). 2 Some Muslims, however, would not agree on this. Review for Religious 3 Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 30. 4 The word derives from the Vedas, the earliest Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit. s See Bede Griffiths, A New Vision of Reality (New Delhi: Indus, 1992), pp. 58-59. 6 See John L. McKenzie, Dictionary of the Bible (Bangalore: Asian Trading Corporation, 1998), pp. 277-278. 7 Griffiths, New Vision, p. 61. The verse itself runs thus: "Nourished by your sacrifice, the Gods will grant you your heart's desires. / What a thief is he who enjoys their gifts but gives nothing in return!" (3:12). See Raimundo Panikkar et al., The Vedic Experience (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1977), p. 428. s As Jesus overturned the notion of unclean food in Jewish Pharisaism and declared all food clean (Mk 7:19), he would also declare all food good against what may be called Christian libertinism. 9 Of course, in the Pauline context the reference was to Jewish dietary laws that in Christianity were being superseded, whereas here it is the regrettable exaltation of food for food's sake. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. How do you consider grace before and after meals meaningful to your Christian living? 2. Can you explain that the Last Supper exemplifies for us how our daily meals are "ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father"? 363 68.4 2009 PATRICIA A. WITTBERG religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study More than fifteen years ago, Miriam Ukeritis csJ and David Nygren CM published their groundbreaking study, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States) In it they predicted that religious congregations had only a ten-year window of opportunity before the aging of their current members and the lack of new entrants would render them nonviable. Many resisted this prediction, refusing to believe it. Some spun visions of an alternate (and socio-logically naive) future in which religious con-gregations would expand to include married and single, vowed and nonvowed, Catholic and non-Catholic, male and female, all somehow gathered together under the aegis of a vaguely defined charism? Others, not knowing what to believe, considered religious life's future Patricia A. Wittberg SC wrote about the "recipro-cal identities" of apostolic life and consecrated life in our July-August 2002 issue. Her address remains 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Email: pwittber@iupui.edu Review for Religious something they could do litde about and focused their diminishing energies on their ministries instead. Fifteen years later, for many religious congregations, the window of opportunity appears to have closed. Few if any of their members are under the age of sixty; no one has entered for ten or even twenty years; vocation directors are burned out or depressed. Many members coverdy believe--and some openly argue--that it is use-less and unethical to invite young people to enter. It is for these congregations, especially, that I am writing this article, but I offer it as well to communities which are in less dire straits. I. believe that both could profit from the following alternative. I would like to point out a different--and more sociologically feasible--path for the future of declining religious congregations. I do not see this as replacing traditional religious life--which is thriving on a smaller scale in some (but not all) of the CMSWR congregations in the United States, and on a larger scale in Africa and South Asia. There will always be a place in the church for the traditional model of religious life. But U.S. Catholic culture is no longer as hospitable to this model as it once was. If it were, several hundred, not a few dozen, traditional religious congregations would be springing up in this country, and they would be doubling in membership every decade. Such explosive growth was the norm for religious congregations founded in the 19th century, and it obviously is not happening today. This comparative lack of interest, however, does not indicate that present-day U.S. Catholics are unspiritual heathens. They simply are not attracted to the traditional model. I believe that American Catholicism would be bet-ter served if several other versions of religious life were also available to young Catholics. By"other versions" I 68.4 2009 tVittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. 366 do not mean the lifestyles currendy being modeled by most of the non-CMSWR religious congregations. These are faring even worse than the traditionalist orders in attracting new members. Their charisms are still beau-tiful and, for the most part, still valid in today's world. But they are not being presented in a form that appeals to young Catholics today. Instead, I want to suggest a different strategy for handing on a congregation's charism to a new generation: starting one---or preferably severalmsocial-movement orga-nizations. To explain how this would work, I first need to define a few terms. Broadly considered, a social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. Examples are the civil-rights movement, the women's movement, the envi-ronmental movement, and the right-to-life movement. Each of these movements may con-tain dozens of separate social-movement organizations (SMOs) which focus on particular activities, particular groups of people, or particular issues related to the larger movement's goals. Thus, the environmental movement includes large organiza-tions like the Sierra Club, the Nature Conservancy, and Greenpeace and also many smaller groups that focus on saving the monarch butterfly, cleaning up a local river, opposing the dumping of toxic waste, and so forth.3 There have been religious social movements and, thus, religious social-movement organizations as well. In Review for Religious Protestantism, a succession of social movements called "Great Awakenings" sparked a host of religious revival groups throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, several of which developed into full-fledged denominations such as the Mormons, the Seventh-Day Adventists, and the various Pentecostal churches. In Catholicism, waves of devotionalism swept through both 17th-century France and 19th-century North America,4 spinning off pilgrim-age societies, sodalities, and prayer groups devoted to particular saints, scapulars, or novenas. These were not .religious orders at their inception, but some later did develop in that direction. Other times they simply strengthened the existing orders. I am suggesting that religious congregations con-sciously try to foster something similar today. Most still have one or more members who are passionate about meeting some particular need in today's world, be it sav-ing the environment, feeding the poor, sheltering home-less women and children, providing free medical care to the uninsured, or mentoring the spiritually searching,s Many of these members have already worked out a more or less specific theology to ground their activities and to explain how their passion fits with the congregation's charism. Some have recruited a corps of volunteers to help them in. their work. To paraphrase the famous line from MoliEre,6 they are already "forming a religious SMO without knowing it." However, these passionate members are often less connected to the rest of the con-gregation. For years, even decades, the other members may have left them alone to "do their own thing." But it is only a small step from what these indi-vidual religious are already instinctively doing, for their congregation deliberately to form and maintain several SMOs to enflesh its charism for subsequent genera- 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 368 tions. All that remains is to help each incipient group to articulate its identity publicly, to specify clearly its religious grounding in the congregation's charism, and to take specific steps to ensure its leadership continuity and stable membership. This might simply involve: ¯ Picking a name connected with both the charism of the congregation and the specific focus of the group: "Vincentian Servants of the Homeless," "Franciscan Brothers and Sisters of the Earth," "Centering Pray-ers," and so forth. ¯ Adopting an identifiable sign of group affiliation, for example, a common T-shirt or a medal. ¯ Maintaining a public-relations effort to inform potential volunteers, donors, other members of the con-gregation, and the church at large about the group's existence and to attract them to its mission. ¯ Spelling out the criteria for entering and exiting the group, expectations of membership, and ongoing group governance. Previous evidence indicates that, paradoxically, groups with more rigorous expectations are more likely to succeed than those which demand less of their adherents.7 The first two steps are relatively simple, and may already have been taken. But they are not enough. Unless some provision is made for the continuance of the SMO, it may not survive its founder's retirement. The founding brother or sister may be neither inter-ested in nor skilled at such bureaucratic maintenance activities. For the remaining steps, therefore, a religious congregation may be able to offer valuable help from its communications office (for the third task), and its leadership (for the fourth). The kind of social-movement organization I am advocating may or may not be represented by a con- Review for Religious gregation's associate program. A congregation's associ-ates could certainly be this kind of group--but only if they are organized around a readily articulated spiri-tual focus and/or apostolic activity that distinguishes associate membership from the larger call given to any Catholic. Simply stating that associates are devoted to "living the charism of the founder" is not enough. The more focused the associates' commitment--whether in monthly or weekly prayer/lectio according to the founder's spirituality, or in working on a regular basis with the vowed members in their ministry, or in staffing some auxiliary ministry that complements that of the vowed members--the more my SMO proposal here can be applied to them. Otherwise, an associateprogram will not be sufficiendy distinct from the lifestyle of non-associates to enflesh the order's charism on its own. Advantages of the SMO Model I am suggesting that some congregations--especially those whose members have tacitly abandoned the hope of attracting new vowed members--make a point of acknowledging this and then start to recruit people for their present members' particular SMOs. What would be the advantages of such a strategy? First of all, any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. The future of religious life does not rest with the tired or apathetic, but after a long period of decline many religious now are both. Most congregations have only a few members with the needed passion and enthusiasm. Moreover, these members may not all be focused on the same passion. Some may live and breathe God's call to serve the poor; others may devote their energies to preserving God's 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window Any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately ~devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. 370 creation through environmental activities; still others, with a more contemplative bent, may foster spirituality through centering prayer, pastoral counseling, or reli-gious art or music. A religious order faced with only a handful of healthy and passionate vowed members, each deeply devoted to a different passion, faces a serious dilemma. It can either focus on one of these passions to the exclu-sion of the others (which would be profoundly alien-ating to those left out), or it can try to include all of them (which dilutes the con-gregation's spe-cific identity and its ability to rally its members around a common goal). Either way, a congregation's ability to recruit to vowed membership is weakened if its remaining passion-ate members are devoted to different articulations of its charism, because its overall corporate mission identity will be weak.8 In contrast, enfleshing these articulations in several different SMOs would strengthen a congregation and improve the chances for its charism to survive. Since each SMO's participants are not necessarily vowed to the congregation, it is not only possible but desirable that several could exist under the same congregational "rOOfo''9 The more different SMOs a congregation's members "spin off," the greater the chance that one, at Review for Religious least, will catch fire. As I will argue below, this may then become the seed for the congregation's future. A second advantage of the SMO approach is that it is a sociologically feasible way of incorporating temporary members or inviting specific demographic groups into the congregation's family. The prospect of temporary membership in permanently vowed religious congrega-tions has been discussed for over thirty years without ever coming to fruition.'° This is probably a sign that the concept is unworkable. A host of decisions would need to be faced in a congregation that included both permanent and temporary members: financial expec-tations, for example, or voice and vote in chapters. Maintaining a distinction between the two groups could imply a second-class status for the temporary members; erasing the distinction would depreciate the perpetually vowed members' commitment. Also, there is not now and never has been any indi-cation that large numbers of potential entrants are clamoring for the option of temporary membership in communities with perpetual vows. If anything, the opposite is the case. In contrast, however, various lay movements that are similar to SMOs are thriving in the church--which may be a sign that the model is a more compatible and sociologically viable Way of enfleshing a religious call in today's world.'1 Lay social-movement organizations are compat-ible with temporary commitment. In fact, many actu-ally expect that their members will stay no more than three or four years. Prayer or volunteer groups specifi-cally targeting high school or college students would be examples of these. A recently begun group is the St. Joseph of Arimathea Society--groups of high school students in Cleveland and Louisville who help provide 371 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A final advantage of religious ¯ social-movement organizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. dignified and reverent funeral services for homeless peo-ple, and for murder victims and deceased old and young people whose relatives are too few or too devastated to arrange a funeral themselves. The students provide sing-ers and pallbearers, tend the "potter's field" cemetery, and collect money for flowers and grave markers. More traditional examples of student organiza-tions include prayer groups (Athletes for Christ, rosary or adoration societies) or twinning arrange-ments with a school in a poor area. There is no expectation that the students will remain members of these groups after their graduation, although they may be directed to affiliated adult groups which they may or may not choose to join. A final advantage of religious social-movement orga-nizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. While no data exist on the number of failed attempts that preceded or accompanied the suc-cessful founding of religious orders in previous centu-ries, anecdotal evidence in our histories indicates that at least as many attempts to found religious orders have failed as succeeded. This appears to be true today as well. Of the 97 new religious communities listed in the 1999 Directory of Embrging Religious Communities, 24 had dissolved by 2006, and another 21 had lost members.~2 Founding or truly refounding a religious order is a chancy business, and those who commit their lives to one of these new groups risk losing both financial security Review for Religious and mental/emotional health if they fail. Committing oneself to an SMO carries with it many fewer risks. Outcomes For those religious who are concerned for the pres-ervation of their congregation's charism, forming one or more SMOs could have several beneficial results: ¯ Social-movement organizations may be effective recruit-ment vehicles for vowed membership. With few religious teaching in Catholic schools, most young Catholics have never seen a sister or brother. And few religious inter-act with anyone younger than fifty on a deep or regu-lar basis. How can young Catholics join a lifestyle they know so little about? How can religious invite those they never see? Participating with vowed religious on an ongoing basis in a soup kitchen, a prayer group, or an ecological project will help young people get to know the religious involved--and vice versa. ¯ One particular social-movement organization may develop into the vehide that will carry a congregation's charism into the next generation, after all of the former vowed mem-bers are gone. If so, this would finally realize the inclusive ¯ scenario that the "Transformative Elements" painted for the future of religious life twenty years ago. How could anyone say that a religious charism was extinct if, instead of a small number of vowed religious, an SMO of married, single, Catholic, and non-Catholic men and women were living it out by feeding the hungry, praying a particular devotion, tutoring poor children, or in some other way were bringing the founder's original vision into the 21st century? "Life is not ended, merely changed." ¯ A truly successful social-movement organization will often, however, contain a number of members who do want to devote their entire lives to its vision. It may 373 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window be that these members will not join the original community, but will instead begin a new one. If the first community is still around at this point, their wisdom and experi-ence would be invaluable for the new group. If not, the stories of the SMO's original founder--the sister who started a free clinic in Appalachia, the brother whose soup kitchen mobilized a city to feed the poor--will serve as a template. After all, Frederick Ozanam (the founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society) lived sev-eral centuries after Vincent himself. St. John Bosco had never met St. Francis de Sales. Throughout the millennium and a half that Catholic religious life has existed, many new religious orders or lay groups have been formed from old templates. SMOs could provide templates of this very kind. Next Steps I believe that social-movement organizations could be useful, both for religious congregations that have given up on recruiting vowed members, and also for more-viable communities that still attract some young people. For the former, it may be the last remaining way they have of passing on their charism to a new genera-tion. For the latter, it may help them attract even more new entrants. The next steps I would suggest to con-gregations wishing to found such organizations--or to foster the ones their individual members have already begun--are as follows: ¯ Take inventory of today's society: What are its deep-est needs or desires? As I have noted previously,~3 the best way to determine these needs is to look at what larger social movements are currently growing. The most pressing social movements reveal themselves by the large number of SMOs they spawn. Are there already Review for Religious a lot of small environmental groups? Prayer groups? Adoration groups? Groups working with the poor? Women's groups? Check out the directory of associa-tions on the Internet Public Library (http://www.ipl. org/div/aon/)to find out. Is there room for another SMO, locally, in this movement? For example, is there a group that the movement currently does not reach, such as Hispanics or high school youth? Is there a new tactic or way of addressing the issue that existing SMOs do not use? Could adding your congregation's spirituality or charism deepen commitment to the social movement? ¯ Take inventory of your congregation: Who are your passionate members? What are their passions? How, if at all, do these passions relate to the charism of your founder? What larger social movements do these pas-sions relate to? Are your community's passionate mem-bers interested in leading or organizing a group to assist them in their work? Or, better, have they already done so? Are other members in your congregation interested in helping them? ¯ What does the group still need in order to succeed? Does it need to expand its pool of potential volunteers? Secure more stable funding? Plan for the founder's retirement? What is the optimum size for the group? Would expansion be good for it--or dilute its unique character? If the latter, can the group's model be "fran-chised" in some way, with separate independent chap-ters in various cities?14 ¯ What assistance can the congregation render? Can your communications office help to publicize the group? Can your vocation personnel and/or associates help locate new volunteers? Does the group need a place to meet? Need mentoring in finances or grant writing? What about retreats or prayer days on the charism? And 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 376 who in the congregation could provide these services? A weakness in any new religious organization is its "liabil-ity of newness," which may lead to mistakes that imperil its very survival. A more experienced mentor could be a tremendous help. It is obvious by now that religious life is at the end of one of the cyclic downturns which have recurred over the centuries. Rather than resign ourselves to our "inev-itable" extinction--and thereby create a self-fulfilling prophecy--I think we should notice that the SMO model offers a way to midwife the new forms of religious life that will thrive and grow in the years ahead. The many permutations of this model already appearing--associ-ate programs, lay ecclesial movements, mixed emerg-ing communities--are foreshadowings, I believe, of an absorbing future. This is true even if most of them fail, as new ventures often do. More will continue to spring up until some "get it right." With their centuries-long experience and the passions of at least some of their vowed members, today's religious congregations could help in this rebirth. Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993). 2 A good example would be the third and fourth of the so-called "Transformative Elements" developed by the joint CMSM/LCWR meet-ing in Louisville in 1989--and cited on pp. 255 and following of Nygren and Ukeritis's book. Supposedly, this is what religious life would look like in the year 2010. In hindsight, it reflects more wishful thinking than any real-world trends for vowed religious life. 3 Fora fuller discussion of social movements and social-movement organizations, see my Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), chap. 4. 4 See Elizabeth Rapley, The D~votes: Women and Church in Seventeenth Review for Religious Century France (Montreal: McGill-Queens University Press, 1990), and Anne Taves, The Household of Faith: Roman Catholic Devotions in Nineteenth Century America (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), for these waves of devotionalism. s My own congregation has individual sisters--of whom I am extremely proud--deeply involved in all of these activities. 6 Or maybe not so famous--the citation refers to a line from Moli~re's comedy Le bourgeois gentilhomme, in which a nouveau riche man is being tutored in literature and discovers that he has been speak-ing prose all of his life without knowing it. 7 See, e.g., Rodney Stark and Roger Finke, Acts of Faith: Explaining the Human Side of Religion (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), chap. 7. 8 According to the Nygren and Ukeritis study, mission identity is the principal variable influencing a congregation's success (see pp. 97-98). 9 Several religious families have known this instinctively. For exam-ple, my own Vincentian tradition includes, not only the Congregation of the Mission, the Daughters of Charity, and the various Sister of Charity Federation congregations, but also the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Ladies of Charity, Vincentian Marian Youth, the Association of the Miraculous Medal, and the Missionary Cenacle, all of which are move-ment organizations of nonvowed laypersons. Similarly the Salesian family includes, not only the Salesian priests and Visitation nuns, but other vowed religious such as the Sisters of Mary Help of Christians, the Missionaries of St. Francis, the Salesian Missionaries of Mary Immaculate, and the Oblate Sisters of St. Francis de Sales, plus lay groups such as the Association of St. Francis de Sales and the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales. to I am not referring here to societies of apostolic life like the Daughters of Charity, who make annual vows, but rather to including an option for temporary membership in congregations whose members are now expected to make perpetual vows. Moreover, even among the Daughters of Charity, there is the assumption that one's annual vows are really for life. ~' According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), Emerging Communities of Consecrated Life in the United States (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2006, p. 16), ten of the twelve most rapidly growing new indigenous emerging communities in the U.S. are mixed communities with some, or all, lay members. t2 CAP, A, Emerging Communities, p. 16. 377 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New V~ndow ,3 Wittberg, Pathways, pp. 80-85. ,4 The above-mentioned St. Joseph of Arimithea Society seems to operate through "franchises"--the Cleveland and Louisville chapters appear to be separate from each other. Many.other groups enlisting high school or college students operate similarly. A Sampler of Potential (and Actual) Religious SMOs 1. "Franchised" Youth Groups (local school chapters, perhaps with a national headquarters supplying materials or training) a. Volunteers supporting a local soup kitchen b. A high school or college centering-prayer group c. Group spiritual direction, big brother/sister spiritual mentoring d. Adoration societies, sodalities 2. Ministry Groups (non-age-specific, perhaps linked nationally in a network or association) a. Supporting crisis pregnancies b. Companioning the dying c. Running a women's shelter d. Strengthening marriages 3. Spirituality Groups (may have a centralized head-quarters and/or a youth branch - see #1, above) a. Devotion to a particular saint b. Performance of a particular spiritual practice (Eucharistic adoration, centering prayer, pilgrimages) c. Spiritual mentoring, group spiritual direction 4. Lifestyle Groups a, Simple living b. Intentional communities c. Peace and reconciliation Review for Retigious WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Religious Identity mnthe years following the Second Vatican Council, uch attention was focused on changes in religious life. Much writing and much effort have been directed toward rethinking or reimaging religious life. In light of all that, one might be tempted to say "Enough already!" An old saying has it that familiarity breeds contempt. Familiarity can also breed complacency and neglect. It might be good, then, to look once again at what it means to be a religious, to reflect on our religious iden-tity. Besides the decree on the renewal of religious life, Perfectae caritatis, Vatican Council II also spoke of the role of religious in Lumen gentium, the dogmatic con-stitution on the church. In chapter 6, §44, we read that the religious state "manifests in a special way that the kingdom of God and its high requirements transcend all earthly considerations, bringing home to all people William P. Clark OMI, longtime teacher and administrator, lives at St, Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. 379 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the immeasurable greatness of the power of Christ in his sovereignty and the infinite might of the Holy Spirit marvelously working in the church.'" The council is simply saying religious life gives special witness that, above and beyond earthly values, there is something we call the kingdom of God. While religious life's characteristic witness is spe-cial, it is not exclusive. It is the duty of all Christians to give witness to the kingdom of God. All Christians, be they lay or religious, are committed to living out their baptismal consecration. Emphasis on the common voca-tion of all Christians highlights what is of fundamental importance, the fullness of Christian life informed by charity. That emphasis also counteracts any tendency to draw unfavorable comparisons between the lay and religious states, as though laypersons are somehow sec-ond- class citizens or "children of a lesser God." That broad emphasis on all Christian life is rooted in the most ancient tradition of monasticism. In his masterful study The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers, Louis Bouyer finds certain constants in the literature of monasticism. He affirms them because they were some-what obscured by later developments. One such insight is that the primitive monk did not appear special. Whether by himself or others, his vocation was not considered par-ticular or exceptional. The monk was simply a Christian, a devout layperson who took the most radical means to live the Christian life to the fullest. The monk proposed no other end than to be saved. All his life, the monk asked for no other teaching from his elders than the means of attaining that goal. His fundamental and persistent ques-tion was: "Tell me. How can I be saved?" Two points need emphasis. First, holiness, the fullness of Christian life, is not something reserved Review for Religious to religious, while laypersons are called to something less. Second, religious are to focus on the essential, on the search for union with God, and not see holi-ness as something incidental or distinctive which sets them apart from "ordinary" Christians. Fundamental to religious identity is one's identity as a Christian. It is the fullness of the Christian experience that constitutes Christian identity. There are three major elements in the Christian expe-rience. The first is not distinctively Christian. It is the human preamble. It consists in discovering that human happiness and fulfillment are not brought about by tak-ing. We all start out that way, looking for that certain something or combination of things which, if we could only latch on to it and make it our own, would provide fulfillment. The Christian experience becomes possible once we realize that what we really seek is something or someone to give ourselves to, something or someone greater and nobler than ourself. It is a search for some-thing or someone that will endow our life with meaning and purpose. Finding that something or someone is the beginning of faith as a lived reality. It becomes the basis of all commitment worthy of the name. The second element makes the experience specifi-cally Christian. It consists in finding that greater-than-self reality in the person of Jesus Christ. It is finding in his words meaning for our life. It is finding in his life the pattern and model for our own. The third element is the desire to share what we have found. We want others to find the meaning and purpose that have become our own. We want to live out this meaning and purpose in love for one another. The full Christian experience, then, is apostolic and missionary. 381 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Reli#ous Identity 382 If this Christian experience is not real in our lives, no amount of theorizing about what it is or should be will ever make it so. Furthermore, theorizing will not help much in our lives as religious. If the Christian experience is real, it can be progressively liberating, freeing from all those attitudes of mind and spirit that limit us to operating within the narrow confines of self-ish interests. Like all Christians, religious are to give witness by their lives to the possibilities open to everyone for liber-ation from enslaving attitudes like inordinate ambition, defensiveness, possessiveness, self-pity, and cynicism. The life of religious should also be an active witness to joy, to hope, and to love. The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that peo-ple often try to evade its challenge. In doing so, lay-persons sometimes say that holiness is something for religious and priests, not for "ordinary" persons like themselves. Likewise, religious sometimes find a type of escape through dependence on the system. Religious life involves a kind of system that includes public vows, constitutions and rules, and a goodly number of prac-tices found in the traditions of various religious insti-tutes. We might think just plugging into the system will make us as holy as we need to be. It is easy to just coast along. All too easily we can come to rate as virtue whatever is conformable to our religious surroundings. Custom and routine can so enslave us as to dispense us from personal decision. Of course, custom and routine, as well as the regular practices and exercises of religious life, are also great helps--if we understand and use them righdy. They do not, however, carry us all the way. They reflect the fact Review for Religious that in choosing to be religious we have set the direction of our lives. But they do not guarantee we never lose that direction. The need for ongoing renewal is simply the need to reaffirm, to reset our direction. The human condition is such that nothing can be taken for granted except the constancy of God's grace, of his invitation. Another point on which the council spoke explic-itly is religious consecration. Everyone of the faithful is consecrated to the divine service by baptism. Clearly, in various contexts the word "consecration" has various meanings, causing difficulties to be raised about how this idea applies to religious. In address-ing those difficulties, the council begins by relating religious con-secration to baptism. Religious consecra-tion adds nothing to the baptism's sacramental character. It is, however, in the line of baptismal grace. That grace can be lived in varying degrees of intimacy. The coun-cil speaks of religious as being "more intimately conse-crated to the divine service." That phrase is significant. It does not say "more strictly" or anything that might seem to emphasize some form of legal obligation. What the council points out by those words is that baptismal consecration can be interiorized to a greater or lesser extent by grace and by love. Ultimately, the truth of every Christian life consists in one's baptismal consecration. But God calls people to live out that consecration in different ways. For religious The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that people often try to evade its challenge. 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the call to God's service is more explicitly determined. It takes on a particular form or style. To put that a bit differently, for religious the vital response called for by God's loving initiative is made concrete in a specific and distinctive way. By making a certain explicit profession of the evan-gelical counsels, persons technically become religious. The purpose of such profession is to commit ourselves more explicitly and more profoundly to living our bap-tismal consecration. At one time religious profession was commonly called "a new baptism" in homilies at profession ceremonies. In those days it was not always adequately explained. The council statements revitalized and clarified that idea. In reflecting on religious consecration, it is important to realize that such consecration is the work of God. Virtually every page of Scripture speaks of God's initiative in regard to creatures. Jesus told his disciples: "You have not chosen me. I have chosen you." Passages like that have a particular resonance for religious. It is God who calls religious and consecrates them through the church's ministry. Because it is God's work, religious consecration is permanent. God's choice and God's fidelity are unchanging. God is constant in the grace he offers, in his call. Our challenge is to keep trying to respond generously to that call. Religious consecration represents a special instance of the mysterious interaction between grace and human freedom. Obviously it is essential that those consecrat-ing themselves to God's service be free. At the same time we must recognize that the consecration is ulti-mately God's work. Religious profession has never been considered a sacrament by the church. In recent years many things have been referred to as "sacraments," in a broad sense Review for Religiot~s of the word. In the strict sense, religious profession is not a sacrament. That does not mean, however, that religious profession has no reality beyond the disposi-tion and conduct of the subject. Religious consecration is something accorded to free persons precisely as free. To be received, the consecra-tion requires a personal response to God's call. That response includes certain characteristics. It must be sufficiently enlightened, conscious, and free. A person's intention and the vows which formulate that intention are eminently free acts. Conversely, when the church dispenses from vows, she judges that in reality there was some impediment to freedom in the original profes-sion, something lacking in what was offered for divine consecration. The fact that religious consecra-tion is not a sacrament does not mean nothing more is involved than the liberty of the one making vows. On God's part the engagement is indefectible. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a cer-tain manner of life. Each vocation has its own structure and laws. Those laws are not to be understood as some-thing imposed from the outside. They derive from the very nature of the life in question. To ignore structure and laws proper to religious life would be to think of reli-gious life as funny putty which can take on any shape one gives it. History shows significant variations in the forms of religious life. But, in the last analysis, that life must always be directly related to what is most fundamental in Christianity, the search for God and growth in charity. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a certain manner of life. 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Religious Identity In the Christian understanding of life, the goal is progress in charity. Jesus made it clear that love of God and love of neighbor sum up the whole law. Love gives ultimate value to what we do. That is why religious con-secration is wholly directed towards love of God and neighbor. It is precisely that love which gives the value of consecration to the activity of the religious. The idea that one's activities must continuously be animated by charity is certainly not new. We have heard it countless times in one form or another. Nor is it distinctive. It is true for everyone. By religious profession we are committed to that goal more explicitly, more officially, as it were. On the part of religious, the consecration of one's life consists in using distinctive means for achieving the common Christian goal of progress in charity. My cir-cumstances, my state of life, determine the means that are most appropriate for me. Jacques Maritain offered an excellent definition of means. He said means are the end in the process of coming to be. Thus, at each moment of our journey toward the perfection of love, we make that end real by employing the appropriate means, Perhaps we should emphasize the word "journey." While we hope we are on the right road and we try to keep moving in the right direction, we never reach the end, the perfection of love, in this life. Another way to put that is to say that holiness is not so much a place we arrive as it is the way we travel. Consciousness of our shortcomings and failures makes us reluctant to think of ourselves as holy. A num-ber of years ago Archbishop John Roach of St. Paul, in a pastoral letter on spirituality titled A Friendship Unlimited, offered a valuable insight in this regard. He wrote: "It's a funny thing, but for years I couldn't imag- Review for Religious ine thinking of myself as holy. I was equating holiness with perfection, and I knew I simply didn't have that. It is clear to me now that holiness is the desire to be a friend of Jesus Christ and to surrender my will to God. I may stumble along with that. I have so far--but, so long as I continue a sincere effort toward that goal, I am holy." It might help also to remind ourselves of one charac-teristic of holiness that is often overlooked. It is compat-ible with human frailty. Many stories and most statues of saints give a wrong impression, an impression of otherworldliness that obscures the fact that those saints were real human beings with human faults and weak-nesses. Examples are plentiful. St. Augustine was given to rages. St. Thtr~se of Lisieux had bouts of depression. St. Vincent de Paul, the great saint of charity, was said to be bilious and subject to fits of anger. St. Jerome was aggressive and insulting to persons who disagreed with him. In fact, one of his contemporaries said of Jerome that his malice was such that no saint could live within miles of him. The secret of all of those people is that they never gave up struggling and working to overcome their human weaknesses. They knew what counts is not the triumphant victory of total perfection, but persevering effort. Teresa of Avila said we should strive and strive and strive, for we were made for nothing else. She was right, of course, but the way she said it makes it sound hard. And it is a constant challenge. We cannot gloss over that. But I like the way T.S. Eliot put it when he said: "We are only undefeated because we keep 6n trying." In question 186 of the Secunda Secundae of his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas treats of things that per-tain to the religious state. He speaks at length of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and argues their ,387 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity necessity for religious perfection. He points out that "a person cannot offer his whole life to God directly because that life is not lived all at once, but only suc-cessively. Hence, a person can only offer his whole life to God through the obligation imposed by vows" (my translation). Thus, our real challenge is not the perfor-mance of heroic acts, however beautiful, however noble, for every human act is by nature transitory. Our real challenge is the heroism of a whole life, offered to God without measure, without reservation, without regret. This is done through religious consecration, through the vows. And in this the entire person, mind and heart, must be involved and permanently involved. Note ' The Vatican translation and the revised Flannery translation, melded. See Lumen gentium, chapter 6, §44: "Regni Dei denique super omnia terrestria elevationem eiusque summas necessitudines peculiari modo patefacit [status religiosus]; supereminentem quoque magnitudi-nem virtutis Christi regnantis atque infinitam Spiritus Sancti potentiam in Ecclesia mirabiliter operantem, cunctis hominibus demonstrat." Ed. 388 Questions for Personal and Group Reflection If religious sisters and brothers are identified with the laity, how do you claim their special religious identity? 2. Has Clark been helpful in underlining aspects of religious identity that distinguish religious life for priests, sisters, and brothers? Would you want to add or subtract anything? Review for Religious LEO J. HERIOT Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Saul was present at the stoning of the lov-able Stephen, and perhaps this increased the Pharisee's desire for Christian blood. Fernand Prat says, "Not content with being present at the torture of the victims, he entered into houses and dragged out the inmates, both men and women, to hale them to the dungeons."' Saul set out on the trail of Christians not to evangelize them but in pursuit of them to bring them to what he thought was justice. He had asked the priests to give him the offi-cial mission to seek out Jesus' disciples in the synagogue of Damascus and drag them before the Sanhedrin. In the Acts of the Apostles we have three accounts of the vision on the way to Damascus (9:1-19; 22:3-21; 26:12-20). It is Luke who makes the first announcement of Leo J. Heriot SDB wrote for us about Margaret Bosco in 2007. His address is now Don Bosco House; PMB Government Buildings; Suva, Fiji-Islands. exemplars of faith 389 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late this event; later we hear Paul giving his own account. The accounts agree on the important points: the occa-sion, the place, the time of day, the dazzling light, Saul's fall to the ground, his dialogue with the mysterious voice, his blindness, the return of his sight, and the total change in his life. From being a firebrand of a persecutor, he became a sower of the Good News of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The whole change of his behavior, his heeding of the strong voice's words, and his subsequent dedica-tion to a new cause make us aware that he was not led by fanaticism or goaded on by personal ambition. Jesus Christ seized him, pulled him close to himself. From the accounts of this conversion, nothing presaged it, noth-ing hinted that the fierce Pharisee would change regard-ing this person Jesus Christ, changing and becoming a disciple of Jesus and a preeminent apostle. Looking at this conversion, one gets the impression that it is beyond human explanation. It would be folly to try to find some simple plausible human causality. Pauline theology gives pride of place to the empow-erment of grace, and Saul was certainly under the influence of grace. It is not possible to explain this con-version apart from divine grace. Paul helps us with these assertions from his writings: "Have I not seen Jesus, our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1). "Last of all, as one untimely born, he appeared also to me" (1 Co 15:8). Grace found in this man fertile soil that would produce a great extension of the stoW of Jesus, a stoW that would make people aware of the immense, unfolding gift God gave to Saul and to the world on Saul's way to Damascus. Saul's encounter with the risen Lord as he sought to obliterate that Lord's message had a huge influence on him. One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound Review for Religious teachings was that of Christians' being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. For this Pharisee, Paul, Christ becomes all in all; Christ becomes everything. This idea is contained in seminal form in the question Jesus puts to the blinded Saul: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" (Ac 9:4). Paul was not attacking Jesus directly; he was defending his Pharisaism by trying to prevent Jews from falling into the ways of this crucified "reformer" of Judaism. In Saul's conversion God's grace is evident, work-ing a transformation immediately. It is like the blinding flash of light. The extraordinary illumination appar-ently brought about Saul's immediate com-pliance with Jesus' words and his swift transformation into a disciple and apostle. The stunned Saul changed his course once and for all. He found himself in a new world, a world almost alien to the life he had lived until then. Paul was overwhelmed by a new faith, a belief in the person of Jesus Christ as his Lord and master. He began a new and demanding life that only a strong and deep faith and love could sustain. He expresses that faith in his Letters to the Galatians and the Romans, an active faith that revolutionizes the whole person and alters the direction of people's lives. From the moment of his conversion the gaze of Saul is riveted on the person of Jesus Christ. We would go too far, however, if we reduced Paul's life to the moment One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound teachings was that of Christians" being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. 391 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late of his conversion. His continuing deep reflection on the mystery of God's love strengthened him as he went about his apostolic life. Our beliefs, too, are not simply the result of our reading or reflection, but come from God's communication with us, often in the quiet con-templation of a Divine Master stretching out his hand to us and telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 392f The Boy from Becchi, Another Man of Zeal In an audience on 21 March 1858, Pope Pius IX, now Blessed, told the priest from Turin: "When you get back to Turin, Don Bosco, you write down these dreams and everything else you have told me, minutely, and in their natural sense. Save all this as a legacy for your Congregation so that it may serve as an encouragement and norm for your Sons.''2 After nine years this same pope questioned him once again. Don Bosco's reply was "I truthfully lacked the time. I was so taken with [any number of things]." The pope said, "Well then, I not only advise you, but order you to do it." Don Bosco promised to write down his early experiences, and he kept his word.3 In his poor handwriting Don Bosco scrawled out his first dream. "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life. I dreamed I was near my house at Becchi, and a crowd of young boys had gathered there to have fun and play games. Some were playing, some were laughing, and not a few were cursing. Shocked by their expres-sions, I jumped in among the boys, swinging wildly and shouting at them to stop saying those things. At that moment a Person appeared among us. He was dressed in a long white robe, and his face radiated such light Review for Religious that I could not look at it. Suddenly he called me by name. 'Giovanni, you have to win these boys not by blows but with gendeness and kindness (bont~). So begin right now to show them that evil is ugly and virtue is beautiful.'" Although these words confused him, this little boy, nine years old in 1824, was being commissioned for God's work. He said, "I am so small and these are young men. What you are asking me to do seems to be impos-sible." But he was told: "What seems so impossible, you must achieve by being obedient and acquiring knowledge." The boy shouted, "You ask me to do the impossible!" The voice said, "I will give you a teacher under whose guid-ance you will learn and without whose help all knowl-edge becomes foolishness." Beside this Person stood the Lady to whom young Bosco's mother had taught him to pray regularly. The Lady, taking his hand, said, "Giovanni, look carefully. What do you see?" The crowd of boys was changed into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and various other animals. The Lady of his dream said to him, startlingly: "This is your field of labor." Then she gave him a one-word recipe for getting these boys to improve: "amorevolezza" (loving concern). The wild animals disappeared, having been turned into sheep. The Lady then told him, "In due time you will understand," and with that she put her hand on his head. At table for morning coffee he told his family about his dream. Each one said something different. His "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life." 393 68.4 2009 Heriot * Encounters Early and Late brother Joseph said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become a farmer looking after sheep and goats, caring for them." His brother Anthony said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become the leader of a gang of ban-dits!" After other such remarks, their wise old grand-mother said in an authoritarian tone: "Giovanni, take no notice of dreams." And Mama Margaret said con-vincingly, "Prepare yourself, Giovanni, for your future apostolate." This, then, is what Pope Pius IX referred to in 1858 when he told Don Bosco: "This is the begin-ning and the foundation of your work. Give this dream to your Congregation and make it a part of their life." On the road to Damascus, Paul was astonished by the voice that changed his life. It had the power to change his life and send him on a new mission. While any comparison of nine-year-old John Bosco's dream to Paul's experience near Damascus would be lopsided, we may remind ourselves that both of them were impelled into a new life, a new apostolate, by mysterious expe-riences beyond usual explanation. Are there not many other divinely wondrous experiences as well? Why not keep them in mind? Notes ~ Fernand Prat, The Theology of St. Paul (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), p. 25. 2 The Biographical Memoirs ofSaintJohn Bosco, ed. Eugene Ceria SDB (New Rochelle, New York: Salesiana Publishers, 1980), vol. 5, p. 577. 3 Ceria, Biographical Memoirs, vol. 1. pp. 95-96. Review for Religious HILDA KLEIMAN On Hilda of Whitby ~ah~na tIr oennt eorre da tfheea msto dnaayst.e Ir yw, Ia hs ando nt orta cisheodse an Catholic, and I was not named after a saint, though I had a lovely name. After I entered, the prioress asked me to choose a patron, and I chose St. Hilda of Whitby. Initially I hesitated to choose her because, generally speaking, we do not know much about her. We know when she was born and died, where she lived, and some of the activities she pursued, activities for which she was well known and respected. But we know little about her character, her spirit, or her inner life. How did the tone of a gathering change when she walked into a room? How did she regard those whose lives and souls were entrusted to her care? Was her glance warm or cool? Did she have a glint in her eye? Answers to these ques-tions seemed permanently unavailable. A few months after I entered my community, I attended a concert given by Festival Chorale Oregon, Hilda Kleiman OSB writes from Queen of Angels Monastery; 840 S. Main Street; Mt. Angel, Oregon 97362. Email: ajkjune@juno.com 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby a local, award-winning choir directed by Dr. Solveig Holmquist. I had been a student in her college choir for three years at Western Oregon University. I was excited to see her again, even from a distance, even from the back as she conducted the choir. When she entered the concert hall, she was as I had remembered--not tall or physically imposing, yet filled with a presence that shot through her spiky hair, her sharp eyes, and her earrings and many bracelets. I saw a woman in full possession of herself and the situation at hand. She stood before the choir and the orchestra, and they knew what to do sim-ply by the movements of her hands and a thin baton. I remembered standing before her with my eyes on every move she made. In every gesture, every expression, she embodied musician and conductor. She made the vocalists and musicians one as we let her lead us--as, with our minds but also our hearts, we let her be our breath to the very last note. When Dr. Holmquist arrived at Western, she had clearly learned how to draw people together. Shortly after being hired, she was told there were no students at Western who could really sing. Given that this was untrue, and even uncharitable, Dr. Holmquist did not listen. She simply set up a table at the activities fair at the beginning of the school year and started signing students up for auditions. By the end of the year, she had set the choral music program on its feet, doubling the size of the choir, planning tours, and establishing a student-led choir council. I began to see that music was Dr. Holmquist's life, and part of that life was invit-ing the rest of us into the music in whatever way was appropriate for each of us. I loved her for it, and I still do. Though I do not think I would have used the word at the time, I see now Review for Religious that what I received from Dr. Holmquist was a deep and vigorous image of vocation. I have no doubt that through the music she is doing what God created her to do. Shortly before I graduated, I tried to say as much to her. In her office one morning, I described what I saw in her. I said I was not a born musician like her, but rather a writer and a reader, and I was looking for my own purpose in life. The day I attended the Festival Chorale concert was November 17th, the feast day of St. Hilda, and the first time I observed her feast day as my own. As I watched and remembered Dr. Holmquist, some of the reasons why I choose Hilda began to emerge. It was not about wanting to be an abbess as Hilda was, any more than it was about wanting to be a cho- , ral conductor. It was not about imitation in such a specific sense, but about living in the presence of someone who could play a part in calling me to be who I am supposed to be and to do what I am meant to do. It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. If I imagined myself as a member of Hilda's monastery, much as I had been a member of Dr. Holmquist's choir, what could I learn about who I am supposed to be here and now? It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. 397 The Venerable Bede, an English monk and writer of the 8th century, is our sole source of historical infor- 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby marion on Hilda. After serving as the abbess of several monasteries, she established at Whitby a double monas-tery, a community of monks and nuns. In his history of the English church, Bede tells us she taught those within her community to study the Scriptures thoroughly, to observe good works, and to foster many virtues, "but especially peace and charity." In part, the influence of her goodness was seen in the five outstanding men from her monastery who became bishops. In addition to her own monks and nuns, others from all walks of society sought her direction. In this way Hilda, "whom all her acquaintances called Mother because of her wonderful devotion and grace," guided many people to God along the path of their particular gifts and circumstances. Bede also gives us the story of Caedmon, a shy sheep-herder whom "God's grace made remarkable." One night Caedmon received a vision from God in which a man asked him to compose and sing him a song. Caedmon answered that he could not sing, and the man replied "But you shall sing to me," and he did, thus becom-ing the first poet of the English language. When Hilda learned of Caedmon's gift, she invited him to become a monk and be instructed in sacred history, which he then rendered into beautiful music and poetry. Caedmon soon became not just a poet but a disciplined and beloved member of the community as well. At his death he asked if there were any who held any ill will against him, and he was assured that there was not. When then asked if he was at peace with those attending him, he replied, "I am at peace with all the servants of God." Among well-known events of church history, Whitby is known as the site of the synod in 664 at which the controversy between the Celtic and Roman dates for observing Easter was resolved. The problem disturbed Review for Religious many people, Bede tells us, even to the point that they feared "that they might have received the name Christian in vain." Those arguing for the Roman date were victo-rious, yet Bede describes Hilda and her community as favoring the Celtic practice. While he tells us the results of the synod, Bede does not describe Hilda's response to the decision. We do not know if in the end she was saddened, relieved, or pleased. From what we do know about her leadership, however, we can perhaps assume that many looked to Hilda for guidance as to how they should respond to this decision. We can see the great respect she had for the Scriptures and the wisdom of the church. We can see that she taught those around her to be of service in all peace and charity. Even as she neared her death, she urged those in her monastery to "maintain the gospel peace among themselves and with others." I imagine that Hilda had a profound sense of perspective, of knowing, in the end, which beliefs and practices held priority. Unity within the church mat-tered more than any particular date, and gracious accep-tance of the decision of the synod mattered more than the content of the arguments. I was aware of St. Hilda before I was a Catholic because I attended St. Hilda's Episcopal Church for sev-eral years during high school and college. St. Hilda's is a small community; the church holds perhaps fifty peo-ple on a Sunday. I met the vicar, Noel Knelange, when I first arrived, and about a year later Noel's husband Bill was ordained a deacon. I attended the ordination and sang in the choir, helping to lead the congregation out of the church singing "The King's Highway" for the recessional. During the service I was taken aback 399 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Whitby Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without~ pretense; connected ~that image, to me, 400] by the beauty of the liturgy and the fact that Bill was grounding his life and identity in his faith. Somehow God wanted him. God wanted exactly who Bill was, a middle-aged man, a deaf man deeply involved with the deaf community of the diocese, a man who loved to fish so much that during the homily the bishop gave him a new fishing pole, now that he would be a fisher of men. Afterwards, during the reception in the parish hall, I was standing near Bill and Noel, probably eating a cookie, when Noel turned to me and said, "Well, you could do this too you know!" What? I did not want to be a deacon or a priest. I did not understand why she said that, and we never talked about it later. I forgot about Noel's words until after I had become a Catholic and been a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel, Oregon, for several years--even though I had often wondered when the thought of becoming a nun first came to me. Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without pretense, connected that image to me. The seed of the idea of staking everything on "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen," as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews, was planted and would take root in ways I never suspected. Just a few years Review for Religious later, I was led to the Catholic Church, to a Benedictine monastery, and to a surprising new relationship with St. Hilda, a relationship reflected in women like Solveig Holmquist and Noel Knelange. Regardless of whether they were aware of all the details, they could and would change the course of a life in a single breath, with a single word. The name Hilda comes from the Old English and means "Battle Maiden," a fact I learned only after I received the official word from .the prioress that I could take Hilda as my new name at my final profession. I took to the image of the Battle Maiden immediately--the tension between toughness and gentleness, knowledge and innocence, between what we think we know and what we in fact do not, a tension not to be resolved but used as ingeniously as possible until the day of death. Other people have taken to my choice of the name Hilda, to the "Batde Maiden" too. "Battle on, maiden!" says my mom before she hangs up the phone. After ask-ing me to explain the meaning of Hilda to my class-mates, one of my seminary professors warns that "from now on, you gendemen better look out!" The best, how-ever, is my friend Ania. With her I have established The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens. We have taken as our charter the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies." To bet- 401 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby ter understand our society, I have listed qualities of the Battle Maiden, which include the following and will surely be added to as I ponder this further: ¯ A persistent love, grounded in the love of God that pursues us without end. She can keep extending her love for other people, regardless of how they respond, if at all. If she feels hurt by this, she takes it to mean that her efforts were not the most gracious way to love this particular person, and it is time to try something else. She is intelligent, so her persistence does not suggest beating her head against a wall, but rather keeping her wits about her and being willing, always willing, to try again. ¯ The beginning of an understanding of the fourth step of humility in the Rule of St. Benedict: "The fourth step of humility is that, in this obedience under diffi-cult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his [or her] heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape." She does not, in the end, resent that this step asks her to endure injustice, even contradiction, for the sake of the God she loves. She accepts that sometimes such endurance will require her to speak her mind, to name what is difficult, recognizing that endurance can be more than just waiting for the bad to run its course. Bravery of heart becomes part of her core. She understands that false sisters and broth-ers (and are not we all false and contradictory at one time or another) are part of reality; to deny this is of no use to anyone. She uses their words and actions to strengthen her reliance on the Lord so that it remains possible for her to pray for her enemies. ¯ An enduring kindness that she tries to exercise in any situation, par.ticularly in her words. At times, she may manifest her kindness in ways that are more tra- Review for Religious ditionally recognized as kindness--offering to lend a hand in household tasks, greeting guests with courtesy and assisting them in their needs, acknowledging the accomplishments of others with a sincere compliment. Kindness, however, is also needed in more challenging situations. It is a kindness to try to change the sub-ject when she hears murmuring or gossip about some-one who is not present. It is a kindness to walk away and not participate even by listening when this tactic fails, perhaps biting back the words rising in her throat that she would like to put everyone in their place with. Kindness calls her to address only in private any embar-rassing situations that involve another person, so as not to worsen the pain her words would likely cause if spo-ken publicly. To enjoy membership in The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens, you and I do not need to be in full possession of these qualities. We do need, however, to recognize their worth and strive to live with their inher-ent tensions, tensions that in the end are simply the tensions of the cross. Image Bearer One of a kind, Here for a reason, Plucked from the mire, Now wearing white, Bearing His likeness, I am immortal, A soul crafted By the Holy. Teresa Burleson 403 68.4 2009 Vv'ILLIAM PROSPERO World Youth Day and Religious Life sharing experience 40_4] Many vocation directors will confirm that a substantial number of candidates for seminar-ies and institutes of consecrated life consider a World Youth Day (WYD) experience to have been an important part of their discernment. Many candidates say they first thought seri-ously about religious life or the priesthood while on a WYD pilgrimage. What is it about WYD that promotes consecrated life? Sister Joseph Andrew, of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, asked me to speak about this very topic at a recent discernment retreat at the motherhouse in Ann Arbor. No less than a hundred 'thirty young women attended. When I asked how many had been to WYD, about one third raised their hands. The main reason for "only" a third, I William Prospero SJ is pastor of St. Mary's University Parish (on the campus of Central Michigan University); 1405 South Washington; Mount Pleasant, Michigan 48858. Emaih will.prospero@stmarycmu.org Review for Religious believe, is that most of them were too young to have attended any other WYD than the one in 2008 in Sydney, Australia. Sydney did not draw huge numbers from the United States because of the travel cost. Nonetheless, many of the young women present had managed to attend that WYD. I believe there are several reasons why WYD pro-motes consecrated life and priesthood. Though I do not have any statistical analysis to prove my points, I have a wealth of experience assisting young WYD pil-grims in their discernment about consecrated life or priesthood. I have attended four WYDs: Denver (1993), Toronto (2002), Cologne (2005), and Sydney (2008). I have served as a priest on the last three. I have wit-nessed more than ten pilgrims enter religious life or the seminary. The main reason, I believe, for the wealth of WYD vocations is that WYD gives a taste of life as a conse-crated person. Pilgrims experience about two weeks of consecrated living. WYD provides a veritable "trial run" of living the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In. living the vows on WYD, pilgrims experience the intense joy of the universal church gathered around the pope. They make the connection that living as a religious could be enjoyable and meaningful. The possibility of consecrated vocation becomes real for the first time in many pilgrims' lives. Pilgrims experience poverty the first day of com-mitting to go on WYD. They realize that the costs can be high. As I began recruiting for Sydney, I recall sev-eral students resisting, sa.ying $2,850 was too costly. My response was: "Do you want to go? Has God put this desire in your heart? If so, then commit and the money will come. I promise. And, if not, I will personally cover 405 68.4 2OO9 Prospero ¯ World Youth Day and Religious Life Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of religious poverty. 406 whatever you can't. But you must promise you will com-mit to this and try your best to raise the funds. I prom-ise you, God will provide." Every pilgrim had enough funds. On four WYDs I have never met a pilgrim who fell short of funds. For the 2008 WYD in Sydney, we took seventy pilgrims from the Diocese of Saginaw, each paying $2,850. There are stories of pilgrims finding funds flow-ing in from fund-raisers and from the most unexpected sources. Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of reli-gious poverty: God provides. Pilgrims trust him, and all works out. From the beginning, they learn that those who commit to a reli-gious pilgrimage are cared for by God. They learn this throughout WYD, beginning with their first moment of commitment. Poverty finds many manifestations, usually very inconvenient ones. As the pilgrimage officially begins, I speak of the "great ball of suffering" that one endures on WYD. For some reason, chaos and inconvenience reign. This makes trusting God mandatory, not optional. For example, because of delayed flights, our travel time from our departure to our host parish in Kiama, south of Sydney, was thirty-eight hours. And the last two hours were in a bus with a broken heater (it was winter there) while rain and forty Fahrenheit degrees of damp cold were welcoming us. These horrendous situations created the proper spirit in which to celebrate Mass, Revie;v for Religious namely, our sense of spiritual and actual poverty: "We are not in control!" Having celebrated Mass at a crowded boarding gate in the Los Angeles airport (LAX), we found special meaning in celebrating Mass again, hungry and cold, at the very end of our trip. I was reminded of the four thousand hungry and tired people in Mark 6:1-8 who were worn out from their journey, so Jesus fed them. It was as if Jesus intentionally brought the people out to a deserted place to experience their poverty and to see and taste the goodness of God. Poverty makes pilgrims hungry for Jesus. Another example of poverty happened at the Papal Welcome at Sydney's harbor. Afterwards we were hun-gry and cold. Several pilgrims collected our chits or tickets and got our meals, bags of hot stew (option: beef or pork). After getting the same victuals several days in a row, pilgrims were cheerfully dubbing them "barf bags." Our meals were being eaten on the ground or on cement blocks or wherever we could prop ourselves up. One night, however, several alert pilgrims found some plastic chairs and brought enough over for the group of seventy to sit. We could sit and eat! We were so grate-ful. I cannot recall ever feeling so grateful for having a chair to sit on. This is what WYD does: it makes the ordinary into a gift from God. Once one begins to see that everything, everything, is a gift, then one can start living a radical Christian life. So the gift of sitting, eat-ing, enjoying each other's company, and basking in the reality that we just saw in person the Vicar of Christ, all add up to an explosive experience of the joys of the kingdom. Poverty makes human experience more real, and opens us to the true value of community. How sim-ple and uncomplicated it all is. 407 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. 4081 If pilgrims are properly prepared and guided, they have a wonderful experience of interacting positively with the opposite sex. Even sleeping conditions, oth-erwise inappropriate, become an experience of intense respect and honor of boundaries. One sees the "other" as sacred and as a fellow pilgrim on the way, some-one to be honored and respected. I have never known of any of our pil-grims engaging in actions that are meant for mar-ried couples. Sleeping shoulder to shoulder with two thousand other pilgrims may seem cause for temptation and raised eyebrows, but never have I seen anything but excellent moral behavior among our pilgrims. Even where there are dating couples, they hardly ever "pair off" from the group. The whole atmosphere is one of intense commu-nal living. People are attentive to the needs of everyone, sharing and caring for one another. The pilgrim learns that one does not need to pursue or engage in roman-tic relationships to be happy. Celibacy for the kingdom becomes tangible, livable, and enjoyable. At WYD the intense communal activities, which sometimes involve distressing conditions and both-ersome inconveniences that must be endured, build a joyful esprit de corps. Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. Opportunities for minor sacrifices abound, such as shar-ing personal items to assist another in need and collect-ing meal tickets and standing in line to retrieve meals for a group. These and other sacrifices reveal acom- Review for Religious mon care for one another. Moreover, the group lead-ers have the ultimate say in all major decisions about travel, gatherings, agendas, and special needs that arise. Individual wills give way to the group, or to the lead-ers' decisions. Through these experiences one finds joy in sacrificing one's own will for the good of the group, opening up to the gift of religious obedience. Consecrated persons make a sacrifice of their lives for the good of the church and the world. Pilgrims experience the power of loving sacrifice firsthand, and its power to build up the Body of Christ. Eddie Dwyer, a Saginaw seminarian, said: "Three things I hate are lines, sitting on the floor, and crowded spaces, but the love at WYD made sacrifice easy." All these experiences find rich meaning in the cel-ebration of the sacraments, namely, confession and Eucharist. The intensity of confessions, celebrations of Holy Mass, and Eucharistic adoration affirms God's real presence among his people. All the sufferings and joys of pilgrimage are offered up to the Father in the won-derful exchange of gifts that the Eucharist makes real. All is gift. As a priest I am overwhelmed by the power and joy of the priesthood, by the sacramental fruitful-ness on WYD. What power can be manifested in such weakness! The Papal Mass at the conclusion of WYD provides the perfect environment for the overflowing gratitude of the pilgrimage to express itself. Pilgrims, freshly and deeply aware of God's goodness, gratefully share their belongings with others. Jackets, caps, and an assortment of other personal items are offered and received in a wonderful exchange of gifts. God's kingdom becomes visible in everyone giving their things away to bring joy to both receiver and giver. In his Spiritual Exercises 409 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life St. Ignatius Loyola speaks of the free exchange of gifts between those who love each other (§231). This is the Christian life. As church and bride of Christ, we receive every good thing from God and make an offering of our very selves back to him in gratitude. This joyous exchange finds particular power at the Papal Mass. The accumulation and possession of .things no longer has appeal. The giving and receiving of love becomes the reason for existing. Consecrated life witnesses to the joy of the kingdom of heaven through the. gift of self to God. The Papal Mass provides a taste of the joy offered to those who radically take up the call to follow Christ the Bridegroom wherever he goes. As I lead pilgrims to WYD, I make a point of having several priests, seminarians, and religious sisters accom-pany us. When lay pilgrims rub shoulders with conse-crated persons, consecrated life now has a face, and that face is familiar and human. No longer is the question of consecrated life somewhere off in the distance, but it is real and lived by real people. The possibility of consecrated vocation opens up as the joys of serving the kingdom find witness. I count WYD the single most important vocation promotion ministry that I do. 410 Review for Religious BENNY PHANG Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? MMarriage and celibacy are often seen as contraries. isunderstanding about these two vocations still exists among many people who do not fully under-stand celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven or the meaning of marriage. They see marriage as con-trary to celibacy, totally separated from it, and unable to contribute anything to it. And they understand celibacy as merely a pessimistic, negative rejection of married life and love. They even think celibacy is responsible for many sexual problems. About these matters people raise critical questions such as: Is marriage contrary to celibacy or even a rival? Is marriage a higher and better state than celibacy, or is it the other way around? Does marriage confirm celibacy or devalue it? If marriage confirms celibacy, how does it do so? Benny Phang OCarm, an Indonesian priest studying at the Angelicum for a doctorate in moral theology, can be addressed at Centro Internazionale Sant'Alberto; Via Sforza Pallavicini, 10; 00193 Roma, Italy. Blog: theouiosoter.blogspot.com 411 68.4 2009 Pbang ¯ Marriage and Celibacy On this topic I want to draw some reflections from the messages of Pope John Paul II (collected in Theology of the Body), from the critical reflection on celibacy in the Catholic Church written by Aloysius Pieris sJ, and from the experience of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux of her vocation to religious life. Marriage and celibacy, are interrelated. To hurt either one by being unfaithful in it also hurts the other. 412- Rival Vocations? In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus places the counsel of celibacy in the discussion of the impor-tance of marriage, when he argues against divorce (Mt 19:3-12). Pope John Paul confirms this, saying, "[From Matthew's Gospel, Mt 19:10-12], it can be seen sufficiently clearly that here it is not a question of diminishing the value of matrimony in favor of continence, nor of less-ening the value of one in comparison with the other.''1 "Christ's words on this point are quite clear. He proposes to his disciples the ideal of continence and the call to it, not by reason of the inferiority of, or of prejudice against, conjugal union in the body, but only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.''2 One can, however, argue for St. Paul's position when he writes, "So then, he who marries his fiancee does well; and he who refrains from marriage will do better" (1 Co 7:38). Does this Pauline text not mean that mat-rimony is good, but celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is better?3 Review for Religious We need to comprehend the reason for celibacy in the evangelical counsel. Jesus says, "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:12). This is the only reason for the evangelical counsel of celibacy. The reason is not to devalue marriage, but for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. To understand the "difference" between Jesus and Paul as regards celibacy and marriage, John Paul gives us an insight: In his pronouncement, did Christ perhaps suggest the superiority of continence for the kingdom of heaven to matrimony? Certainly he said that this is an excep-tional vocation, not a common one. In addition he affirmed that it is especially important and necessary to the kingdom of heaven. If we understand superiority to matrimony in this sense, we must admit that Christ set it out implicitly. However, he did not express it direcdy. Only Paul will say of those who choose matri-mony that they do "well." About those who are willing to live in voluntary continence, he will say that they do "better" (! Co 7:38). (Theology, p. 275) The conscious and voluntary renunciation of the conjugal love of marriage and family life by celibate per-sons is not a devaluation of marriage, but it is a form of self-sacrifice. John Paul explains: "Christ understood the importance of such a sacrifice . He understood the

Issue 66.4 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; 66.4 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, ~dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the .]csuits of the A~issoori Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulcvard ¯ St. Louis, A'lissouri 63108-3393 "li~lephone: 314-633-4610 ° Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Marl: rcvicw@slu.cdn ¯ \.\;eh site: www.revicwforrcligious.org Manuscripts, books fi~r review, and correspondence with the editor: Revicw for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Bonlcvard ¯ St. Louis, A'IO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth A'lcl)onoogh OP ° Pontifical Collcge Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Colnmhus, Ohio43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ 1:O. Bo× 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, ~\~issouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2007 Review fi~r Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contaiued in this issue of Review for Religions for pcrsoual or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sectious 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permissiou is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihution, 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. view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonoiagh OP Eugene Hensell OSB M~ry Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jud~" Sharp Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ LoOis and Angela Menard Bishop .Ter~ Ste!b.SVD Miriam D. Ukeriti~. CSJ QUARTERLY 66.4 2007 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 living faith Credible Witnesses Regina Siegfried ASC revisits the martyrdom of five sisters of her congregation fifteen years after the event to invite us all to reflect on what it means to be credible witnesses. 350 358 Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio Antonio (T.J.) Martinez SJ draws upon conversations and experiences with parishioners to propose six pragmatic guidelines on how a new priest ministers to a Latino Catholic congregation. Personal and Group Reflection Questions Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Mark E Plaushin OSFS proposes Salesian spirituality as offering a paradigm for Catholic pastoral praxis on the battlefield which can mitigat.e anxiety and restore spiritual resilience. Reflective Questions for Personal and Group Use Review for Religious 377 prayer in our life Contemplative Gifts Carolyn Humphreys OCDS reflects upon the richness of the gift of a contemplative orientation to life and our need to guard and nourish what we receive by a manner of living that is rooted in humility. Prayer Suggestion 386 Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Elissa Rinere CP traces some of the struggles of the last forty years regarding Eucharist as celebration, Eucharist as sacrament received, and Eucharist as object of adoration. 401 Jesus and Mary ~, The Christ Child, the Father of the Man A. Paul Dominic SJ raises the question: How can adult Christians celebrate and enjoy Christmas for what it is in our faith lives? Prayer 412 The Mother of the Lord in Byzantine Spirituality John M. Samaha SM introduces us to the rich, but different, ways that the veneration of Mary permeates the entire life of Byzantine Christianity. departments ~ 424 Scripture Scope: A Preface to Reading Matthew 429 Canonical Counsel: Conscience and Confidentiality from the Members' Perspective 434 Book Reviews 443 2007 Indexes 66.4 2007 prisms 340 St. Paul identified us Christians as "ambassadors of reconciliation." As Paul says, God has reconciled us to himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation (2 Co 5:18). In the large-scale picture of history, we often have not lived up to that role, either as individuals or as a church community. The fact that we can identify wars as reli-gious wars does not fit well with people who are meant to be known as reconcilers. Probably even worse are the examples from history of the fight-ing between Christian nations and even between Christians in the same nation. One does not have to be an avowed pacifist to acknowledge that something is terribly amiss when the faith that holds us to be brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ has. so little effect in our behavior. There is an evident gap between the faith statements that we might intellectualize about and the faith reality thatis meant to reside in our hearts. We might even take our example of divi-sion into the lived experience of our parish and church life today and our religious community life as well. It makes little difference the iden-tifying labels we use, whether pre-Vatican I~ vs. post-Vatican II, liberal vs. conservative, tradi-tional vs. contemporary. The reality is that there is often present a "warring" mentality that con-siders one side the enemy or the "bad guys." Review for Religious Too often Catholics of whatever stripe are more intent on "defeating" or "dismissing" the opposition or those of a different opinion or practice. Quoting man-made laws, as Jesus tried to point out to the scribes and Pharisees, is not the way to be a negotiator or a reconciler. What does an ambassador of reconciliation need first of all? An ambassador needs to be at the heart of the Christian message, following the one commandment--to love God with all one's heart, with all one's soul, with all one's strength, and with all one's mind, and to love one's neighbor as oneself. And an ambassador needs to pray. To pray means dialoguing with God, and dialogue means both to talk and to listen. Learning to talk and to listen to God carries over into being able to listen and to talk to others, my neighbors. We may not need to learn how to talk, but we certainly need to learn how to listen, and maybe to pray, and even to really love our neighbor. Loving, praying, and dialoguing are necessary activities for an ambassador, necessary activities to learn how to do for one who identifies as a Christian. As we see in the Gospels, Jesus is the first "ambas-sador of reconciliation," the One sent by the Father who loved the world so much. But to be a person who dia-logues, to be one who negotiates, to be a reconciler seems so hard for us to do. It is only in our devotion to Jesus that we find ourselves empowered to live in such a way. The church and our world have never had a greater need of such ambassadors. Like the Christmas gift of Christ, we pray that we may be ambassadors of reconcilation, "a gift that keeps on giving." David L. Fleming SJ 341 ES. The editorial staff wishes all our subscribers and readers a blessed Advent time of hope and expectation and a Christmastime celebration of peace andreconciliation. 66.4 2007 REGINA SIEGFRIED Credible Witnesses living faith 20 October 1992--Rebel soldiers shoot Mary Joel Kolmer ASC and Barbara Ann Muttra ASC, their guard Peter, and two ECOMOG (Economic Community of West African States Cease Fire Monitoring Group) soldiers, on a stretch of road to Barnersville, Liberia, West Africa. 23 October 1992--Five armed NPFL (National Patriotic Front of Liberia) men arrive at the sisters' home in Gardnersville and kill Kathleen McGuire ASC, Agnes Mueller ASC, and Shirley Kolmer ASC. 31 October 1992--Early-morning phone calls and radio announcements break the hearts of fam-ily, friends, and sisters as they learn that the five Adorers of the Blood of Christ died days ago. Regina Siegfried ASC has written often for this journal. She may be addressed at 4042A Botanical; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Her e-mail: ReginaSiegfried@sbcglobal.net Review for Religious October 2007--Fifteen years hold enough days to dull the pain most of the time, to create narratives that may or may not match the deep stories of community myth, and to reflect on the meaning of lives poured out. Martyrs and prophets--the words, are appropriate for these honored dead, but we would rather have our five sisters still living and laughing in our midst. Words can be too easy, unless they call us today to be courageous in a world still violent, broken, war-ravaged, and suffering. How do we respond, not only to their valiant lives, but also to our own deepest longings to be credible witnesses? In the early days of Christianity, the word martyrs meant witnesses, disciples of Jesus, those who proclaimed his life, death, and resurrection and who preached the good news of the household of God in their society and culture. Luke 24:48 says clearly: "You are witnesses of these things." Acts 1:8 indicates the same: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." In Acts 10:40-4.1 we read: "This man God .raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead." By the 2nd century, execution for faith became associated with martyrdom. But martyrs are first and foremost witnesses to the gospel and messengers of a new way to live. The Constitution of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ uses the phrase credible witness in section 18 on gospel pov-erty: "To give credible witness to the liberating poverty of Christ in the world today and to grow toward poverty of spirit, we live in evangelical simplicity, personally and as community." To be credible witnesses can often mean losing much of what society holds precious. Status, material goods, 66.4 2007 Siegfried ¯ Credible Witnesses Credible witnesses are prophets who speak truth to authority, who advocate for the powerless, and who become voices for the silent, comfortable lifestyle, and easily expendable income can voluntarily or involuntarily fall away. Credible witnesses see beyond and beneath the obvious, the material, and the sufficient to live in solidarity with those who hold enough invisible wealth and power and grace to convert even witnesses to a new way of living. Credible witnesses are prophets who speak truth to authority, who advo-cate for the powerless, and who become voices for the silent. They bear witness to the pain, suf-fering, and anguish in the lives of others simply by being there with them, sharing in the blatant unfair-ness and violence of lives that deserve much better. The Adorers killed in Liberia were credible witnesses long before bullets claimed their lives, long before their blood soaked the soil of a war-torn country whose peo-ple were precious and dear to them. The details of their lives and deaths are now familiar and recorded elsewhere. Those who knew them recall quite vividly lives dedicated to the poor, to women, to children, to the.sick, and to students years before they went to Liberia to witness to the gospel there and to discover a different face of God, a countenance that would draw them to insist on return-ing to share again in the passion of a people suffering in a relentless and seemingly endless civil war. Even as the conflict slowly escalated, Barbara Ann was more concerned about getting a grant to purchase five Hondas "so some of our physician assistants can go to these villages for supervision. Some villages are over ten Review for Religious miles interior over rough dusty roads" (21 March 1987 letter from Klay, Liberia, to her friend Meg Wittenbrink). After a year in Liberia, Agnes wrote on 24 May 1989 to Angelita Myerscough ASC: "I'm sure I am not the same person who came a little over a year ago now. I feel my life is much richer for having spent time with these people. They have given me every bit as much as I have shared With them." On 21 April 1990, writing to Marisa Nardoni ASC in Tanzania, Mary Joel reflected on the readings after Easter: All the readings are from the Acts of the Apostles and it is so reassuring to read how strong they were now that his Spirit has taken over in them. And how we should be because the Spirit is with us and is here, guiding us, leading us on. It must have been something like the saints experienced when they were put on the line for Jesus, how they knew that he, the Lord, was their Savior and that life had meaning for them and that they could stand up for him, even though it meant being killed. It is such a powerful message. And he can do so much in us and through us, if we're only open to him. Barbara Ann, Agnes, and Mary Joel were in Liberia for the people, not to get killed. Years of service in the United States were background for more service to people in Liberia. Not naive, they knew the risks of being with people who were suffering more than they themselves were. Kathleen and Shirley had reputations in the United States as bold and fearless advocates in the face of injustice. When Shirley was provincial of the then Ruma province, she sent Mailgrams to Tom Enders, Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs, to the Guatemalan Embassy, to Senator Charles Percy, Senator Alan Dixon, and Representative Paul Simon to express "deep con-cern regarding four workers missing in Guatemala and 66.4 2007 Siegfried ¯ Credible Witnesses the disappearance of two Dominican nuns of Grand Rapids, Michigan, I urge you to support HR 101, stop-ping U.S. aid to Guatemala." In 1987 Shirley wrote a lengthy essay, "Human Suffering and Its Consequences for World Peace," maintaining that "it is the very lives of many of our brothers and sisters who live a life of suf-fering, an existence that borders on the intolerable every day." Even before Kathleen became the peace-and-justice coordinator for the then Ruma province, she drafted a "Possible Diocesan Pastoral Letter Regarding Peace and the War in the Persian Gulf" when she ministered in the Jefferson City, Missouri, diocese. She called for "the whole Catholic community to pray for a peace which is life-sustaining for all our sisters and brothers. We have to acknowledge that we are citizens of a nation which readily uses military force to secure its national interests and to attain its political objectives all around the world." These are simply small examples from the lives of women who lived as credible witnesses years before they were killed in Liberia. If we consider them martyrs, we can just as readily regard them as prophets. Prophets speak truth to author-ity; prophets proclaim the coming of the household and reign of God in season and out of season. Like roses in December, prophets are .unexpected messengers, wit-nesses, and signs of God's presence among us. Prophets are the most credible of witnesses, for their lives are their words and their words are their lives. Standing and stay-ing in solidarity with the suffering, the neglected, and the forgotten, prophets choose life in the face of death and pour out compassion for people bent down by injustice and oppression. Prophets might flinch in the face of vio-lence and injustice, but they do not run away. Fifteen years removed from the days of raw grief, dis-belief, and pain offer us a cautionary tale. Life and the Review for Religious mission and our ministries have indeed moved on, devel-oped, and deepened, something the five absent from our midst would want. The caution comes with the tendency to settle for the mediocre, to choose complacency and comfort, to opt for the safe, for the familiar and easy, because we might - fear the new, the unexpected, and a different vision for our congregation. Our charism is wild, fierce, fiery, ten-der, and urgent. It impels us to live our ordinary lives with extraordinary passion, grace, and commitment. Violence seems to circle our globe like pollen caught in the air currents. Although Liberia and Croatia, where ASC sisters also work, seem to have reached some modicum of nor-mal existence, violence erupts in Afghanistan, Palestine, and Iraq. Children and women are trafficked; slavery is not as over as we once thought. Today, in postwar Croatia, our sisters are witnesses and prophets, living the gospel message even with "many sisters left with serious repercussions and traumas which they feel to this day," Sister Ancilla Vukoja ASC reports. When their Serb Orthodox neighbors expected to be turned away from the drug rehab center the sisters had opened in Aleksandrovac (in the vicinity of Banja Luca) because of the violence they had committed against the sisters and other Croatians, the sisters told them, "We read the Scriptures and in these words we find the forgive-ness and strength to be persons of love toward all." Their martyrdom is in giving witness to forgiveness and recon-ciliation. Some of them remember the trauma of being Prophets are the most credible of witnesses, for their lives are their words' and their words are their lives. 66.4 20O7 Siegfm'ed ¯ Credible Witnesses forced to cross a mine-laced bridge over the Sava River following in the exact steps of the sister leading them through as they sang the Magnificat. When a journalist asked Sister Maristella how she felt and what she thought about, knowing that she was facing death, she replied: "All I could think about was the many other people who were dealt the same fate. I felt that my life was no more important than theirs. I thought that it was even harder for them because, unlike us, they had children who would be orphans." The Adorers who walked that path traveled in spirit with the sisters who fled the Sino-Japanese war in China in 1937, with the ASCs who were held hostage several times and narrowly escaped death in the Congo between 1959 and 1964, with the sisters who stayed and suffered with the people in Guinea Bissau during the civil war there, and with the ASCs who trudged on a road out of Liberia in 1990. As credible witnesses, the congrega-tion has a history of walking difficult routes because the charism impels us to stay beyond the expected time and to remain with people who are precious to us. Sister Ancilla writes: Times like those, however, sometimes uncover unknown heroic potential, readiness to suffer and offer one's life for others, for goodness and love toward others. I can-not but think of our sisters who voluntarily remained in Bosnia during the fiercest conflicts and danger, sharing the fate of the Catholics in that country. They could have retreated to safety but did not out of solidarity with those who could not leave because they did not have the necessary documentation. They realized then more than ever that they were needed by their people. They were a sign to which a suffering people were able to turn and where they could find a trace of hope and protection. Our charism, our slain sisters, and our own hearts call us to live in deep compassion with all the pain and suffer- Review for Religious ing of the least among us. That stance and life make us the best we are meant to be because our charism pulses with the life of all the people of the world. Our charism is wild, fierce, fiery, tender, and urgent. We need to be where the need is greatest. Are we? Background Resources Boehmer, Clare, ASC. Echoes in Our Hearts. Ruma, Illinois: Adorers of the Blood of Christ, 1994. Konieczny, Stanley. Acting in the Most Noble Tradition: The Life and Ministry of the Adorers' Five Martyrs of Charity. ASC Profiles 14. Rome: International Center of Spirituality, Adorers of the Blood of Christ, 1999. Kolmer, Elizabeth, ASC. "The Death of Five Adorers of the Blood of Christ and the Changing Meaning of Martyrdom." U.S. Catholic Historian 24:3 (Summer 2006): 149-164. Okure, Teresa, Jon Sobrino, and Felix Wilfred, eds. Rethinking Martyrdom. SCM-Canterbury Press, 2003. Schubeck, Thomas L., SJ. "Salvadoran Martyrs: A Love That Does Justice." Horizons 28:1 (Spring 2001): 7-29. Siegfried, Regina, ASC. "Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths," Review for Religious 61:5 (September-October 2002): 472- 480. Vukoja, Ancilla, ASC. "How the Sisters in the Zagreb Region Lived Their Charism during the War and the Postwar Period (particularly in the vicinity of Banja Luka)." May 2007. 16 profili di testimoni della Cbiesa in ltalia. Comitato preparatorio del IV Convengo ecclesiale nazionale (a cura di) Speranza del mondo. 349 66.4 2007 ANTONIO MARTINEZ Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio d s I rushed into the sacristy for my first Mass in Spanish only a week after being ordained, my heart was beating fast. I had not spoken Spa.nish for eight years. I had just been assigned to our Jesuit parish, Sagrado Corazdn, in the segundo barrio in E1 Paso, Texas, on the Mexican border. The parish serves a poor, immigrant, Latino Catholic congregation. My fears about celebrat-ing this Mass increased when a young Mexican woman holding a blanketed newbbrn asked me to bless her baby at Mass. Recognizing that I was new to the parish, she offered instructions on how I should proceed. She would approach me at the presider's chair before the concluding blessing, cradle her baby in my arms, and then kneel as I went and raised it over th~ altar, in front of the congrega-tion, as an offering to God. "What in the world?" I thought to myself. I wondered if I had heard her correctly. But, having just graduated from one of the finest schools of theology in the country, Antonio Martinez SJ, newly ordained but back in more studies, lives at John LaFarge House; 6 Sumner Road; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. Review ~or Religious I saw in this request an instance of everything I was not to do--do not make too many distinctions between the ministerial priesthood and the priesthood of the people, do not over-ritualize any of the liturgical celebrations, and do not present yourself as so distinct a mediator of God's grace that the people minimize their own close relation-ship with Christ. Behind each of these admonitions was a "theol-ogy from below," teaching that God, through the Holy Spirit, speaks directly to his people and that the church's ministers can learn from them as well as teach them. Mentally brandishing my line of graduate degrees and sensing an opportunity to instruct the faithful, I politely yet briefly explained to her the idea of a "theology from below" which advocated a more lim-ited function of the office of the priest. Dismissing her until later, I told her I would bless her baby after Mass, on the outside steps of the church, before she and her family headed back home. Two days later I recognized the same lady I had met in the sacristy on Sunday as she humbly made her way to the priedieu before the altar dedicated to La Virgen de Guadalupe. As she finished her rosary, I purposely went near so that she migh~ thank me for both enlightening and empowering her. She came towards me with a shy smile. Graciously thanking me for the quick blessing over In ,their spirituality Latino Catholics 'understand that there, is a sacred distance between God and ~his people that is mediated by the sacred functions of a priest. 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio her baby, she also said she had been thinking and praying more about this "theology from below." Then, without showing any resentment or anger, but also without any hesitation, she simply said in her hushed Spanish, "You know, Father, I'm also that theology from below." She left as unobtrusively and reverently as she came. Her simple and direct comment left me frozen in my tracks, and then I felt a wave of shame and embarrass-ment. Everything I thought I knew about being a priest paled in comparison with what this one Latina woman had now taught me. Unassuming and unpretentious, she had just shattered my theological and presbyteral pre-sumptions, employing the very method that made them so convincing and dominant in the first place. With one sentence she had sent me to figure out what this barrio congregation wanted and expected from their priest--and could teach me. And there was little time to do this before I had to leave for my next assignment. From the numerous experiences and conversations I had with the parishioners, six axioms arose on how to be an effective Catholic priest to them. I think many Latino populations would agree with them, whether parishes or schools. I offer them, not as theologies or spiritualities, but as practical helps toward seeing and appreciating the Catholic priesthood from a Latino point of view. 1. Eres un sacerdote, dirige tu pueblo. / Maintain the distinction between the ministerial priesthood and the priest-hood of the people. Many Latinos draw a clear distinction between the priesthood of the people and their priest. While there exists a connection, the "special character" about which the ordination rite speaks in its introduction not only results from centuries of theological exploration, but more immediately is sensed in the faith of the people I was sent to serve. The ministerial priesthood, through the bestowal of sacred orders in a line from the first apostles, Review for Religious puts the ordained man in a position of special responsibil-ity, with the expectation that he fulfill the important task of following in the image of Christ by liturgically gath-ering, proclaiming, and consecrating. Latino Catholics continue to insist that this belongs to the ordained priest-hood, for in their spirituality they understand that there is a sacred distance between God and his people that is mediated by the sacred functions of a priest. This distance gives meaning to their worship and praise of God, who is among them yet distinct from them. And, while the parishioners with whom I spoke note that this does not make the ministerial priesthood better than the priest-hood of the people, it does maintain a difference, both in character and in function, which positively and directly affects their relationship with God. 2. Dales tu bendicidn. / A blessing from a priest means something. While canon law clearly outlines the importance of a blessing from a priest, it is the parishioners at Sagrado Corazdn who have emphasized this fact. Before and after every Sunday Mass, I was approached by large numbers of Latino Catholics, young and old, asking for blessings over themselves, their families, and their various religious items and' sacramentals. For them, the priest speaks not only on behalf of the people, but, with great humility and unworthiness, also speaks on behalf of Christ and his church. In so doing, priests function in persona Christi when they give a blessing, making Christ a more immedi-ate reality wherein they, their children, and all the things blessed represent both an offering up to God and God's return of that offering to them in their lives. Ritualized gestures in accordance with the church's instructions only accentuate this reality for a culture where actions speak louder than words. 3. Saluda al pueblo. / Kiss their babies, hug their grand-mothers, and shake everyonek hands. At some parishes, on 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood I O1: Lessons from a Barrio a few occasions (both weekdays and Sundays), I have noticed priests entering and leaving the sacristy or church without saying hello to people nearby. The laypersons gathered for Mass have, of course, enough to do greeting one another, and I do not wish to focus overly on the pre-sider. But I have found that, for Latino congregants, the absence of greeting from their priests strikes them as not only odd but rude. They come to church to praise God, be with each other, and be with their priest. Far from giv-ing the priest a measure of prestige, his failure to interact with his parishioners at the end of Mass alienates them from himself and the church. The congregants from this culture feel most included when they get some "face time" with Father, which in turn reminds them of their impor-tance as the Body of Christ. Moreover, in an age where any "touch" from a priest raises suspicion in some people, Latino Catholics, at least in this barrio, expect and appre-ciate a warm, tangible greeting from their priest, whether it is a kind embrace, a firm handshake, or a kiss on their baby's forehead (this last one especially, according to a Jesuit priest serving in another barrio). 4. Presentate como un padre. / Wear your clerics. Clerical clothing has sometimes raised problems, espe-cially during and shortly after the height of the horrific sexual-abuse scandal in the church. Latino Catholics in the barrios, however, want their priests to look like priests when working as priests. Our parish sits along the Mexican border, and the sight of our church and of priests in clerics gives people hope and a sense of home after a long, dangerous, and even abusive journey. Furthermore, far from looking for their priests to blend in and be their buddies .and far from looking down on clerical garb as old-fashioned, the Latino culture likes clothing to reflect well-defined roles, for it helps people avoid any ambigu-ous conduct in their relationship with priests. Then, too, Review for Religious clerical garb, when not abused, stands as a symbol of ser-vice and of respect for God, the church, and the congre-gation; it is a witness to the Catholic faith they are proud of. This symbol of their faith is something Latinos cling to most especially as they migrate to foreign places and cultures where they may suffer abuse simply because of who they are. 5. Portate como un angel /ddbere to and model a higher standard of behavior. Latino Catholics have always looked for a higher standard of behavior in their priests, even if they have not always found it. For them, once you stand as an official of the church, the sacred oils and your public vows remind every-one of their quest as God's people not only to be good but to become holy. How priests act, then, either fosters the destiny of every human being to be with God, or under-mines it. Not only should a priest behave well, but he should avoid even the appearance of impropriety. He should not only practice the evangelical counsels of pov-erty, chastity, and obedience, but also be careful to witness to them. The Latino culture in the barrio, as a culture that invests greatly in role models, looks to its priests as models of a higher standard of ethical action, noble aspi-ration, and devotion to God, giving themselves and others the hope that their quest for holiness is not illusory. 6. Respeta al papa. / Speak respecqCully of your brother priests and the magisterial church. The high value the Latino culture puts on family life spills over into the way they see the church, their "other family"--many barrio parishio- Latino Catholics have always looked for a higher standard of behavior in their priests, even if they have not always found it. 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio ners attest to this and live it every day. And, just as with family loyalties, priests owe. fidelity to their brother priests and to the authority of the episcopacy, especially the Holy Father. Personally and socially identifying with the struc-tures of the church, they expect their priests to uphold those structures in a world where their other cultural structures are confusing, embattled, problematic, mocked, absent, or in disarray. While certainly open to dialogue, the Latino people are never open to disrespect. These axioms may need to be further nuanced, and others may be desirable. But, from my experiences and conversations with the people I served in a barrio, these are the lessons I have learned so far. My experience in other parishes across the United States has shown that these expectations are not limited to barrio Latinos or even Latinos in general. They cross cultural and genera-tional lines. I have read that Latino immigrant experience seems quite similar to that of Irish immigrants in earlier years. If Latin Americans will make up the majority of the Catholic Church in the United States by 2020, then I, for one, had better pay more attention to what they expect of their priests. I should pay more attention to.just what these "practical theologians from below" really are saying, so as to serve them and the church more faithfully. On a certain Sunday a while ago, I invited all those who had unbaptized newborns up to the altar for a special blessing. I would offer.the babies up to God by holding them over the altar. The first one was the child of the mother who had approached me and given me my first lesson in Priesthood 101, a course many other teachers added to later. As I held the baby up, the congregation erupted in a thunderous applause. To my mind, they were recognizing that, while I was young and foolish, with their help I just might make a decent priest after all. Review for Religious Personal and Group Reflection Questions 1. What "axioms" might I list as helps that I have learned from the people to whom I minister? 2. What experience have I had in dealing with people from other ethnic or cultural traditions? 3. How do I choose to grow in my ability ~o minister in Christ's name? the muted trumpet these dead will not rise to life but to an eternal dying and though they hear the trumpet blow its promise, its ringing joy, its piercing clarity, all muted distant, distorted like words heard undemoater deafness, dullness from the grave stumbling, not leaping, not smiling, shining but bitter, weeping how far away it sounds the ~nuted trmnpet Sean Kinsella 66.4 2007 MARK F. PLAUSHIN Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Caatholic pastoral praxis during combat operations kes into account that soldiers confront situations that demand resourcefulness and optimum integration of their physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual selves. The soldiers' tour of duty ranges from boredom to adrenaline-pumping combat. The brutal geography saps energy and offers minimal aesthetic inspiration. In growing numbers Arabs regard Americans as occupiers, not liberators. Regardless of national goals or personal attitudes, occupiers bear the burden of proving that they are there "in the interests of the occupied. Amid all this, soldiers face the task of spiritually adapting to the experi-ence of war. Our soldiers are spiritual; many are Catholic; they will face a cycle of deployments in the years ahead. It is appropriate, then, that Catholic chaplains foster a spiri-tuality that mitigates the anxieties which stem from war Mark E Plaushin OSFS has served in the Army for twenty-two years as an infantry officer and a cultural affairs officer and as a chaplain with two tours in the Middle East. He is now Senior Catholic Chaplain at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington. His address is 721 Lawrence Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. Review for Religious so that an authentic and devout life can flourish. Salesian spirituality can help maintain and/or restore spiritual resilience, a sense of self that serves survival and can serve transitions out of combat situations. I am convinced that soldiers can put the experience of war into their own faith story without yielding to two dangerous extremes: despair as articulated in Anthony Swoford's Jarhead and hubris as trumpeted in Stephen Mansfield's The Faith of the American Soldier. Catholic praxis demands balance and perspective. War is evil and unequivocally antithetical to authentic living. On the other hand, despair is not a worthy response to it, for God's grace overcomes evil and restores human flourishing. Anthony Swoford paints a despairing picture of war's impact on the human person. A veteran of the First Gulf War, he grieves over his shared responsibility in the death of several Iraqi soldiers. The story of their anonymous deaths is told in the context of his dark experience as a Marine and is saturated with unrelenting cynicism and unyielding hopelessness. It is indicative of a malnour-ished spiritual life, but is nonetheless an important spiri-tual manifesto. He offers savvy warning about those who come home from war and tell "what they call good news, the good news about war and warriors." The truth is that war is not good news. Swoford writes: I am entitled to despair over the likelihood of further atrocities . In crowded rooms and walking the streets of our cities, I am alone and full of despair, and while sitting and writing, I am alone and full of despair--the same despair that impelled me to write this book, a quiet scream from a buried coffin. Dead, dead, my scream. What did I hope to gain? More bombs are coming. Dig your holes with the hands God gave you. (Anthony Swoford, Jarhead [New York: Scribner, 2003], p. 254) Inspired, Swoford's message is strapped for evidence of a God who loves and heals. Many have been exposed to 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Many military Catholics, no different than their civilian friends, lack a substantive spirituality combat and have experienced spiritual restoration. They celebrate successfully God's love for them and put war in the larger and rich picture of how God is at work in the world even as we grieve over war's sorrows. Though I mourn Swoford's despair, Stephen Mansfield's thesis is more of a problem. Recounting an experience of young Marines praying before a mission in Iraq, he writes: "They know there is a spiritual-ity to war, that warriors should trust in something beyond themselves to be of any use. So in the bar-rens of Iraq they build an altar of faith and ask their God to make them the war-riors he has called them to be.''~ Mansfield argues for a "faith-based warrior code.''2 Warriors must trust in some-thing greater than themselves, but Mansfield claims that soldiers "have been given no code, no moral or spiritual framing for the profession they now find themselves in or the war they now face death to win.''3 It is unfortunate that many soldiers do not own their faith and make it their own, even though the "code" already exists in the gospel and its message is right there in our traditions. Many military Catholics, no different than their civilian friends, lack a substantive spirituality. Though Mansfield offers insight into the shortcomings of religious support on the battlefield, he seems to celebrate war as a spiritual act. While he captures the elegant dilemma of millen-nial Christians serving in the armed forces, he deifies the American Christian soldier as righteous by virtue of his or her identity as such. Like all gospels of prosperity, this theory suffers from Gnostic influence, Review for Religious Swoford experiencing spiritual anemia and Mansfield a spiritual hubris are inadequate responses to soldiers whose anxieties undermine their spiritual health. Warriors are spiritual, not because they embrace a cult, but when they focus on their essential vocation of self-gift. The Catholic chaplain can offer a spirituality that neither embraces despair nor trumpets war. We are authentic neither in despairing nor in dancing, but in an acceptance of God's love and in our sequent resolution to embrace him and those he sends into our lives. The Gospel amid War's Anxiety The tactical dynamic--compounded by numbing rep-etition, interaction with an ambivalent and unpredictable indigenous population, and an uncertain sense of contrib-uting to a limited national victory--tends toward exhaus-tion of soldier resilience. Numbers of troops leave the desert emotionally, physically, and/or spiritually depleted. Many pursue the task of recovery, conscious and appre-ciative of personal and professional resources available to them. Others struggle on their own to regain their poise or their passion for life, only to feel personal defeat and exhibit an unhealthy sense of self. Even those who recover often suffer personal and professional setbacks. Given these circumstances, those who command troops and those who give troops pastoral care face a multiform threat to their well-being. Military decision making is incomplete if it does not mitigate risk in its varied forms. Yet commanders and troops know that risk attends even routine operations. We also know that, when soldiers are led by capable and honest leaders, receive challenging and realistic training, and have strong morale in units with a tested esprit de corps, they will face any threat and level of risk. Further, these warriors are more likely to survive war and help 361 66.4 2007 Plausbin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety 362] others do so. This includes setting positive conditions for recovery from the rigors of war after redeploying to the United States. All commanders want to bring their soldiers home alive and intact, and chaplains share responsibility for safe homecoming. Pastoral praxis, however, envisions more than biological survival and physical integrity. Pastoral care in the war zone, as in any apostolic setting, seeks to sustain and enhance the life of the soul. We refer to spiri-tual resilience when we reflect .on this sense of self that marks authentic lif~ in Christ. This resilience is essential to healthy personal relationships, whether one continues in a military career or returns to civilian life. Helping sol-diers keep or recover resilience means nothing less than helping them integrate their experience of war into their life's story so well that they can still or again celebrate God's love for them. This is the central task of the gospel in the war zone. The primary threat to a fighting man or woman's spiri-tual center of gravity is anxiety. Francis de Sales (1567- 1622) says, "With the single exception of sin, anxiety is the greatest evil that can happen to the soul.''4 Because anxiety saps people's strength, they have a diminished capacity for resisting temptation arid practicing acquired virtues.5 The practice of virtue is the life of charity, the organization of people's lives toward God. Devotion is superabundant charity. Charity is the archetype virtue and accommodates all other virtues to a person's state in life.6 Francis cor-relates the disabling of virtue with greater susceptibility to temptation. This "disabling" is the organization of self toward someone or something other than God. This has an effect on .the soldier, his unit, and military operations. Contrasting abuse of prisoners with a pro-fessional way of handling them can demonstrate this. A sergeant who captured a few insurgents after they had Review for Religious ambushed and killed three of his fellow soldiers told me, "Sir, I just wanted to kill them all, but I knew it was the w.rong thing to do." Such conduct is an example of the resilience soldiers need to navigate difficult moral deci-sion points correctly, with integrity. Each armed service promotes virtue through core values.7 The cultivation of these values, from basic entry training through retirement, is essential to the spiritual fitness that characterizes - good soldiering and a ful-filling career. The battle-field minister, proffering Salesian spirituality as a practical illumination of the gospel, understands that the life of charity demanded by the gospel is prerequisite to, and fruit of, a healthy spiritual life. Anxiety, on - the other hand, is a spiritual pathology: it degrades spiri-tual health. It is a disordered desire to be free of an evil or to acquire some good.8 This contributes to disorgani-zation of the individual's personal resources--not least of which is a positive sense of self. Let us see how anxiety enters the soul. When .our soul perceives it has suffered an evil, it is dislSleased. This displeasure, which we call sadness, is naturally something we want to be relieved of as soon as possible. But why do we seek relief?. De Sales suggests two answers that determine our spiritual deportment. One, the soul seeks relief out of love for God and for a better .relationship with God. Remembering all the good things God has given, the soul is patient if relief from sadness does not ,come quicldy.9 It depends on God's providence rather than its own effort,l° The primary threat to a fighting man or woman's spiritual center of gravity is anxiety. 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Alternatively, the soul seeks relief out of self-love.~t In this spiritual estrangement, the soul relies on its own effort. It has an inadequate awareness or no awareness of God seeking a loving relationship. In this case, all other goods, whether people or things, are either grasped or discarded without reference to God or his purpose. This is a poor use of personal freedom. It is not uncommon for such a distressed person to make inappropriate choices regarding sexual behavior, substance abuse, and even vio-lence. The soul feels overwhelmed, inadequate, or inau-thentic, and a God who has a personal interest in them seems unimaginable. 36-4 Spiritual Resilience Spiritual resilience is diminished when there is no sense of God's providence--ttiat is, how God is "orga-nized" toward our completion.12 De Sales notes that anxi-ety breeds impatience and agitation. The soul "will excite and wear itself out in a search for escape," producing a cycle of sadness--anxiety--sadness--anxiety, which is "extremely dangerous.".~3 The soul's desire to be free of evil or to acquire some good is not misplaced. God is good and has imbued in us the instinct for good. But anxiety dis--orders our rela-tionship with God and others. It distorts the individual's understanding of the good and the way to achieve it. An anxious soldier may stop eating, become sleepless, and act angrily. Although none of these behaviors are good, the soldier adopts them as if they are good. His disordered view of the good leads to harmful action or neglect. A soldier thus weakened may fail when lives are at risk. If injury or death results, this leads to a crash of self-esteem, a spiritual and emotional crisis. Every mission in the combat zone, without excep-tion, calls for a wearying intensity that creates a taut- Rev&w for Religious bow effect. Archers with arrows always notched hold their bow under constant tension. Such tension is not eased until one is within the perimeter of a friendly camp. Even then mortar and rocket attacks, or bombs borne by per-sons or vehicles, may cause a constant wariness.14 Keep a bow too taut for too long and you may be too numb to act quickly; not keep it taut and you may be too late. The tension is compounded by months in hostile terri-tory where attacks are inevitable somewhere. The soldier's risk of casualty is an anxiety that is not shared in our civilian community. Let me suggest four themes based on my experience. Interestingly, it is not death that soldiers always fear most. (1) When we left an operati[ag base to make sense of the stirred-up population, superheated weather, and the mystery that is Iraq, I made an act of contrition. Because I do nbt carry a weapon and my bodyguard and teammates did, I often did the driving so their hands were free to fire their weapons. I prayed that if attacked I would react as rehearsed--facilitating our escape or the enemy's destruc-tion. I reviewed our plan, our first-aid procedures, and the radio procedures for calling in a medical-evacuation heli-copter (MEDEVAC). I thought through situations that might require these skills while simultaneously comforting the dying, administering the sacrament of the sick, or honoring the dead. In short, I asked God to strengthen me so that I would not let my buddies down. This concern motivated us to know our jobs, rehearse our mission, and stay in shape. Despite the self-confidence that comes from good planning, tough training, and solid leadership, an error in judgment or even a brief moment of cowardice could jeopardize others. (2) My fear of letting others down was an anxiety miti-gated by experience, training, practiced communication, and common-sense leadership. On the other hand, the fear of being maimed offered few practical remedies. The 66.4 2007 Plaushin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Another ground for anxiety is the fear leaders share in ordering others into combat. odd thought crossed my mind that losing one eye would not be too bad, but losing both would be worse than death. If it were a choice between losing an arm, a leg, my genitals, or some horrendous combination of these, I prayed for a quick death and one that would precede incineration in the burning fuel and exploding ordinance of my vehicle. Some risks seemed remote and conjured little anxiety. For instance, death itself or capture by a sword-wielding fanatic seemed unlikely to me; for others, such thoughts provoked concern. (3) Another ground for anxiety is the fear leaders share in ordering others into combat. Leaders up and down the chain of command balance concern for their troops with mission accomplishment. Senior officers must trust their juniors to lead, knowing mistakes and losses are inevitable; this is necessary to their maturing. (4) Anxiety also stems from separations within families. No matter how solid a relationship may be, it will be chal-lenged by fear of loss. Although digitalization has enhanced rapid and continuing communication, distance and absence increase fears by not enabling family members to embrace. Numerous counseling sessions confirm that e-mail and the telephone are two-edged swords. They allow an exchange, of information but do not permit the quality communication essential to intimacy. In fact, too much information can be transmitted, causing dis-traction and stirring up anxiety until reunion is achieved. But reunion itself also causes tension. Only by managing expectations and integrating the experience of the military deployment into the family's story will the family flourish. Review for Religious The issues above cause soldiers both appropriate concern and grist for anxiety. By "appropriate concern" I mean a savvy appreciation of the risks along with con-fidence in God's providence. Where concern has been displaced by anxiety, however, there is need for healing. A Salesian method can be summarized in three stages. (1) Challenge the soldiers to identify and describe the sorrow that burdens them. (2) Aid them in consciously turning their sorrow over to God's providential care. (3) Encourage them to experience the devout life as compat-ible with soldiering. War as the Source of Sorrow Recall that anxiety is a disordered attempt to free the soul of sorrow. Many soldiers identify the root sorrow in their soul incorrectly. They report as source what is actu-ally a presenting issue. The marriage may be in trouble, the children may be acting out, a friend may have been wounded, she may have been attacked, together they may have killed a combatant or noncombatant, or some other combination of things common to soldiering may have been experienced. Yet, as tragic as all of these may be, they veil the source. Our original misuse of free will has left us flawed and in search of authenticity. When we experience anxiety fed by fear of letting buddies down, physical trauma, leading others into harm's way, suffering a ruined relationship, or anything else, we experience sorrow that stems from our incompleteness. We grieve oversuffering a loss or anticipating one. War stirs up a profound awareness of this inadequacy--our inability to control the events, cir-cumstances, and conditions that can destroy us or those we love and the things we value. While war can be legiti-mized and even benefit the community, it is inherently destructive of the human person. Even winning does not 66.4 2007 Plaushin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety make us more complete, more fulfilled, or more human since war's brutality exhausts our intellect, emotions, physical being, and spiritual life. God responds to this suffering by providing the grace which completes us. This redemptive work helps us weave the experience of war into the cloth of our personal story and celebrate God's reconciliation. The role of Salesian spirituality is to promote indefatigable optimism in this process and in the human person. Many soldiers who receive God's grace do respond to his presence. They are resilient, and they integrate their experience into their life's story. This being said, an authentic response to war begins with experiencing it as miserably depleting. This either turns us inward or toward God and those wonderful others he sends to us. This brings us back to De Sales's observation that sorrow arises from either a love of God or a disordered love of self. If we see only our own selves as necessary and sufficient to make us complete, we set the stage for anxiety and the consequent disordering of our lives. If, however, we acknowledge our incompleteness and see God as the one who can make us complete, we live well.~5 We cooperate with the Father who makes good our deficiencies through the grace of Jesus Christ. Yet all disciples stand in a gap between possessing Christ and possessing fullness in Christ. This is our root sorrow. Because we do not yet possess this fullness, we hold on to the good things God gives us: Though they cannot complete us, we understandably hold on to them as evidence of his love and we fear losing them. And our fear of losing them is aggravated in the brutality and uncertainty of the war zone. Diminishment of spiritual integrity and peace sterriS from this, from an event that is disordered, dehumanizing, and destructive in its nature. The resilience to address this lack of fullness is fos-tered by grace, which in turn is characterized by a life Review for R~eligious organized for union with God. It begins with encourage-ment to consciously recognize and describe the sorrow war places on the soldier's heart--this lack of fullness, adequacy, or completeness. This is validated in confession, counseling, and group process.16 Thus a person learns to engage the dilemma of discipleship in the "valley of the shadow of death.''17 Turning War's Sorrow Over to the Father's Care Once the soldier is conscious of the sorrow stemming from the experience of war, has enumerated her palpable concerns, and has been validated, it is appropriate to chal-lenge her to turn her sorrow over to God's providential care. If she is aware that only union with God brings com-pleteness, how will she organize her personal resources to turn toward God? Salesian spirituality, like all spiritualities, explicates the gospel so disciples can adapt it to their circumstances. It provides a way of responding in a particular way to the gift of Jesus' life for us. Let us highlight ways Salesian spirituality contributes to a healthy sense of self and a proper ordering of self toward God. In his Introduction Francis de Sales treats this search for authenticity, reflecting on the disciple's "devout life," defined as a careful, frequent, and prompt response to God's love.18 This love or grace is God's relentless pres-ence wherein he offers redemption in eucharistic life. Here Jesus feeds, teaches, heals, and forgives. Soldiers who receive this grace and explore the force of war on the soul are ready to turn their sorrow over to the Father at this time and place. De Sales's guidance helps here with humility and gen-tleness. His own humble and meek lifestyle resulted in these virtues becoming synonymous with his spiritual leg-acy. Optimism, too, is present in the "gentleman saint's" 66.4 2007 Plaushin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety spiritual patrimony. Under the master virtue of devotion, humility, gentleness, and optimism are the virtues essen-tial to a balanced, authentic response to war. The humble, gentle, and optimistic soldier is oriented toward the God who is ready to heal her in a life-sustaining embrace. This is God's gift of reconciliation, which is Jesus Christ. Jesus' continuous gift of self promotes spiritual resilience and our vocation of self-gift. Practicing these and other virtues is incarnafional and eucharistic. Jesus, real God and real man, who really died on the cross and really rose from the dead, really walks among his people now in our eucharistic life, evidenced in a consistent, evolving, sagacious communion with God in personal prayer. This communion is essential to our disposition because it is the place for turning the sor-rows of war over to the Father. The warrior is encouraged to pursue a way of discipleship that includes a lifetime encounter with word and sacrament in communion fel-lowship. Healing comes by placing oneself in the presence of God's grace in these ways. The devout life is a viable response to war and the means for placing its burden into God's providential care. The Soldier's Devout Life De Sales published the Introduction in 1609, in a Europe that was conflicted. The Protestant and Catholic Reformations spawned persecution, acrimony, and armed conflict. Intertwined with the evolving Reformation, competing visions for political, religious, and economic society contributed to wars between sovereignties then turning into modern nation-states. Interregional conflict shaped a complex and volatile international system, com-pounded by Islam's advance in the East through conquest, coercion, and cultural assimilation.~9 Francis was well respected, and many sought his coun- Review for Religious sel. Though not an army chaplain, he was known to polit-ical and military figures, and he faced rigorous service during the Catholic Reformation. During his 1594 mis-sion into Calvinist Chablais near Lake Geneva, he "lived in a fortress garrisoned by the Duke of Savoy's soldiers [and] worked to some extent under their protection in conditions of intolerable hardship and poverty, ridiculed, persecuted, attacked even physically, saying Mass day by day in icy, half-ruined churches, preaching to empty pews.''2° His pastoral paradigm serves us well. De Sales's approach was to consistendy and construc-tively engage those whose anxiety affected their self-worth or preempted their awareness of God. The Introduction guides readers from their initial desire to live the devout life through a full resolution to continue it no matter what. He offers insights into how this resolve is nour-ished by prayer and sacraments, by the practice of virtue, by turning from temptation, and by renewing their com-mitment. His concept of devotion is robust--even athletic. He uses phrases such as "spiritual agility and vivacity" and discusses devotion as a spiritual fire that "bursts into flames.''2~ Its appeal rests in the celebration of the voca-tion of charity which we all share, soldiers included. It is a vocation that places suffering in the context of our story. This is clear in his "purgative,' meditations. One that is meaningful to the soldier is "The Fifth Meditation--On Death." He writes: Consider the uncertainty of the day of your death. O my soul, thou must one day quit this body. When will it be? In a town or in the country? In the day or in the night? Will it be without warning or with warning? Will it be the result of disease or of some accident? Wilt thou have time to confess or not? Wilt thou be assisted by thy confessor and spiritual Father? Alas! We know nothing at all about these things. We only know 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety The soldier's vocation is one of preparation, readiness, and especially action, even in the midst of uncertainty. 372 that we shall die, and always sooner than we expect.22 The warrior is near death, and it is unrealistic to imagine the situation on the battlefield otherwise, but anxiety is displaced by reflection on our vulnerability in the context of final fulfillment in the Father. The soldier's vocation is one of preparation, readiness, and especially action, even in the midst of uncertainty. Action is emphasized because superabundant char-ity is the action of God's incarnate love. Thr.ough the Holy Spirit, in the Body of Christ, we are Jesus' heal-ing presence. The vocation of charity is our response to God's incarnate gift of reconciliation and encompasses our state in life. It is a way of being in the world modeling Jesus' own vocation of self-gift. This pro-vides a healthy con-text for suffering. For the soldier, suffering while courageously doing one's duty is an indicator of spiritual resilience. Francis writes: "Among these devout people those who suffer afflictions are not overconcerned about their sufferings and never lose courage. To con-clude, look upon the eyes of the Savior who comforts them, and see how all of them together aspire to him.''2~ De Sales sees prayer and sacramental encounter as the center of the devout life. God pours upon us the grace to live the vocation of charity whereby we order ourselves toward him and others. This ordering occurs in prayer and sacrament, which are places for our spiritual transi-tion. In these places we move from our incompleteness to being filled by God's goodness. Francis emphasizes this Review for Religious when he writes, "We must pause here, Philothea [which means "soul that loves God], and I assure you that we can-not go to God the Father except through this gate.''24 When using phrases like God's grace, I mean God's presence. He is the gift that "orders" us through his teach-ing, feeding, forgiving, and healing. Thus De Sales intro-duces one of the most powerful exercises in the Salesian repertoire--calling to mind God's presence. While we may intellectually acknowledge that presence, we may not take it to heart and thus be more anxious than attentive to what is required of us in any particular time or place.2s The importance of this is found in a special vision soldiers cultivate and which we call "situational aware-ness." It signifies contextual vision because fear narrows vision and we lose our sense of the peripheral. Salesian disciples seek God as manifest in the world--even on the battlefield. Soldiers recount how, despite loss and suffer-ing, "some little thing" restored their vision of God as present and rekindled their efforts to feed, teach, heal, and forgive. This grace does not originate in a God who sits outside of our reality and to whom we nod in defer-ence from afar, but a real someone who chooses to walk with us in the dust and blast, and to break the bread with us. The devout life improves this eucharistic vision. Our response to this presence is a virtuous life, and De Sales teaches: "All men should possess all the virtues, yet all are not bound to exercise them in equal measure. Each person must practice in a special manner the virtues needed by the kind of life he is called to.''26 For example, patience and chastity are virtues pertinent to a warrior. This promotes union with God and turning away from things that distract us from him. One of the most practical sections of the Introduction is Francis's treatment of temptation. In a world where risk and consequence attend choice, the optimum opera- 66.4 2007 Plausbin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety tion of free will is anxiety free. Our choices are grounded in a self-concept that models Jesus' own integration of his physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual compo-nents. This appeals to soldiers because Francis's anthro-pology respects our potential for giving God glory in the day-to-day effort to "be all that we can be." The devout life is appropriate for the soldier and sets conditions for lessening or getting rid of anxieties that may afflict those who serve in combat. In this freedom, soldiers can recover spiritual resilience and refresh the imprint of the gospel in their hearts. Humility, Hope, and Providence Stephen Mansfield and Anthony Swoford's books are deficient in humility and hope, respectively. Catholic war-riors need a spirituality which helps them adapt the gospel to their lives' circumstances, not a Christocentric warrior's code. More, they must become free of anxiety, which is spiritually toxic and replaces eucharistic relationships with narcissism. If unchecked, it diminishes the capacity to deal in a healthy way with war and postconflict transitions, because these events are not put in the context of one's faith journey. The ability to celebrate Godat work in the world is disabled, as evident in Swoford's biography. Salesian spirituality builds and sustains a spiritual resilience which mitigates anxiety. It supports conscious articulation of the sorrow that war imposes on the heart and consistent turning of this sorrow over to God's providence. It reinforces commitment to the vocation of devotion that is practical and useful for Catholics on the battlefield and throughout the war zone. This spirituality celebrates the optimism, humility, gentleness, and super-abundant charity that characterize God's incarnate healing presence--Jesus Christ, Prince of Peace. Review for Religious Notes * Stephen Mansfield, The Faith of the American Solider (London: Penguin Books), p. 175. 2 Mansfield, The Faith, p. 157. 3 Mansfield, The Faith, p. 142. 4 De Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans, and ed. John K. Ryan (New York: Image Books, 1972), p. 251. See Col 3:14, wherein love's relationship to other virtues is stressed. 5 De Sales, Introduction, pp. 251-252. 6 De Sales, Introduction, pp. 121-122. 7 The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines virtue as the "habitual and firm disposition to do good" (§1803). The use of the word "value" in the armed services corresponds to this--Army: loy-alty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal cour-age; Navy and Marine Corps: honor, courage, and commitment; Coast Guard: honor, respect, and devotion to duty; Air Force: integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all we do. 8 De Sales, Introduction, p. 252. 9 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ,0 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ~* De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ,2 1 have in mind the "the economy of salvation." Providence is this effort on our behalf culminating in the incarnation. "The promise made to Abraham inaugurates the economy of salvation, at the culmination of which the Son himself will assume that 'image' and restore it in the Father's 'likeness' by giving it again its Glory, the Spirit who is 'the giver of life.'" Catechism of the Catholic Church, §705. ,3 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. '4 Insurgents fired rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), albeit poorly aimed, into an area of our forward-operating base (FOB) through which we had mapped a favorite running route. Our intelligence officer rec-ommended we increase our pace in that sector. Everyone chuckled-- "sort off" ~s A theme in Augustine's Confessions: "You stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you." Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), p. 3. See also Psalm 62:2. 16 After Iraq's "capitulation" in 2003, I heard confessions of troops transitioning home. Penitents and I were in tears, moved by the events these good men endured. 375 66.4 2007 Plaushin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety 17 Psalm 23:4 (King James Bible). ,8 De Sales, Introduction, p. 40. ,9 The Battle of Lepanto stemmed the Ottoman advance in 1571. Francis was four. ~0 Elisabeth Stopp, A Man to Heal Differences: Essays and Talks on St. Francis de Sales (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's University Press, 1998), p. 4. This is similar to the experience of Catholic chaplains operating today out of FOBs. 2'De Sales, Introduction, pp. 40-41. 22 De Sales, Introduction, p. 60. 23 De Sales, Introduction, p. 70. 24 De Sales, Introduction, p. 81. 2s De Sales, Introduction, p. 84. 26 De Sales, Introduction, p. 122. Reflective Questions for Personal and Group Use How would I share my spirituality as a help to someone in military service? Does my lived spirituality have an effect on how I deal with anxiety? How would I see Plaushin's approach to a spirituality responding to military combat affec~:ing the way I live my spiritual life in my given circumstances? 376 Review for Religious CAROLYN HUMPHREYS Contemplative Gifts We need not live in the desert or dwell in a monastery in order to live contemplatively. Not so surprisingly, there are people in deserts and in monasteries who are not contemplatives, and people in the inner city and in prisons who are very contemplative. Living contemplatively is a way of being alive that resembles a continuous quiet flame in a world darkened by sin. The light does not shine by our doing something or making something happen. We cannot do contemplation or make it happen. Rather, we let it happen in us by graces from God. A contemplative orientation to life is an exquisite gift to us from God. This gift comes in many forms and ways. We guard and nour-ish what we receive by a manner of living that is rooted in humility. When we open contem-plative gifts with care and treasure their con- Carolyn Humphreys OCDS, a registered occupational therapist, last wrote for us in early 2004. She produces a four-page quarterly, Mary's Garden, from 7101 E. Rosecrans Avenue, #159; Paramount, California 90723; U.S.A. prayer in our life 1377 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts 378 tents, we find we are no better or holier than anyone else. Rather, we are one with all wounded and sinful humanity. When we perceive all humanity as equal, there is no incli-nation to feel greater or lesser than those of another race, nationality, religion, or ability. This manner of living is a great gift indeed. This self-knowledge is a dear teacher. It is present in all contemplative awareness. This inner knowledge tells us that we are the ones responsible for our feelings, behavior, and actions. To avoid blaming or projecting our negativity on others is a sound step forward on the contemplative path. Cooperation with .God's still small voice within gives us wisdom greater than our own, and thereby keeps inap-propriate comments about others in check. Self-knowl-edge does not occur without common sense. Common sense tells us many things. People who are levelheaded are more apt to keep confidences than those who engage in frivolous or malicious gossip. Individuals who know their true selves are humble and are serious about stay-ing away from negative influences. We ask God that we may be receptive when he reveals us to ourselves. This is a courageous prayer, because such self-knowledge is hard to take. We grow spiritually, however, by learning more about ourselves through being receptive to grace in whatever form it takes. When self-knowledge increases, we are able to live in God's presence more fully. We live in the presence of God when we have the ability to discern his presence within us and around us. Our lives are quite ordinary, but we notice the extraordi-nary in our days. God is at the kitchen stove, office desk, and bathroom sink. We recognize his presence, and so we are fully attentive to What is in the present moment. We recognize the level of our ability to love when we seem empty of love, when we seem full of love, and at all levels in between. ,Together with our level of ability to love, we Reviezv for Religious acknowledge our ever present need for God's grace, and acknowledge that our thirst for God is never quenched. Living in God's presence helps us let go of concerns during our daily prayer so we can simply be present to his life and love. No matter how much we have to do, it is not what we do, - but who we are, that defines us as unique persons. If all we do is "do," we can eas-ily destroy the reality of who we are in the sight of God. Doing things well is not a substitute for well --- being. Finding our identity in the many things we do can detract from who we really are as humble persons in the light of God's love. If we keep our eyes open and focus on gospel teach-ing when we pray, we gradually learn to see the world with the eyes of Christ. No longer do we walk around in a befuddled state, or tend to our duties in a preoccupied way. Our heads are neither in the clouds nor in the sand. We concentrate on, and respond to, that which goes on within and around us at the moment, in the light of God's love. This orientatioh enables us to go beyond the obvi-ous and look for what cannot be seen, such as inner hurts, hopes, unspoken needs and dreams. A contemplative way of being is evident in an out-look on life that influences our behavior with the positive, affirming, loving transcendence of God. This transcen-dence bonds the infinite goodness of God with the finite people and things of earth. In our day it is a continual challenge to maintain such an outlook. We are limited beings, and the temptation to deny, regress, or avoid con- If alt we do :is "do," we can easily destroy the reality of who we are in the sight of God. 379 66.4 2007 Humphreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts 380 flictive or derogatory thoughts always seems to be with us. In a contemplative way of being, however, we face the reality of these thoughts with honesty and courage. This helps us become more loving. It takes work, though, and a resistance to self-indulgence. If we look as objectively as we can at the opposing aspects of our daily choices, we step away from whatever causes negativism or self-absorp-tion. We move forward to what gives us a clearer perspec-tive on the possible results of our choices. To find beauty in the broken places and troubled areas of our lives is a constant component of our contemplative gifts. In doing this, we look at what is in our hands and hearts and find peace instead of turbulence. The more we are sustained by our trust in God, the easier we find him in all that passes in and out of our hands and our lives. We see Jesus more clearly as our minds become free of rejections and afflictions. We sit down, sit still, and really listen to the still small voice of God. Only with the passing of time, and the help from grace, do we become more alert to the world within us. We must be watchful because this world is easily obscured by the world outside us. Through the energy of grace, the effects of contem-plative gifts flow from the inside out. The degree of our awareness of these gifts develops in concurrence with many factors. We are fascinated by how God works in ourselves and in others. Seeing God thusly liberates us from interrupting people with trivial incidents concern-ing ourselves. We listen to others with an open heart and mind by focusing on them. We are aware of what they are saying, how they are saying it, and what their behav-ior reveals. Learning when to talk and when to be quiet refines our humility. The more we seek God, the more our self-absorption diminishes. A marker of our seeking is the sparing use of sentences containing the words 1, me, or my. There is no burning need to prove our point, Review for Religious manifest our intelligence, proclaim our opinion, or prate about our experiences. When we are seeking God, we respectfully listen to what people tell us and refrain from forming our responses or nourishing our prejudices while they are talking. We listen as a friend or confidant rather than as an adversary or advisor. Silence Is Golden Love for silence is a contemplative gift. Silence becomes a gem that is sought, treasured, and reverenced. To be comfortable with the silence of God, of others, and of ourselves is rare and beautiful. Silence nurtures us far more than we will ever understand. It becomes the primary way in which we grow in love. In the early stages we discover the many ways in which love can be posses-sive or self-centered. When we observe quietly, we may see people using others as objects of pleasure or using them to complete their character by filling their needs and inadequacies. We realize that no one should be used as an object or extension of someone else. Our silence enables us to be signs for others of God's presence and peace, even when life's storms come our way. During disturbing times we use silence to think things through before taking action. We are not overwhelmed by all that we have to do. We break down large, intimidating, time-consuming tasks into manageable segments. We han-dle them one hour at a time. These periods then resemble stepping stones across a river. We give our attention to one stone at a time. In doing so, we are on the other side of the river before we know it. If we do not keep our con-centration on the stone at hand, we may slip and fall in. Or, if we do not even attempt the first stone, we will end up finding a longer, harder way to get across. Taking life one step at a time gives us time to visit our inner sanctuary, our place of. rest. After we finish 381 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts Taking life one step at a time gives us time to visit our inner sanctuary, our place of rest. 382 one thing and before we start another, we can rest in our sanctuary and think deep, serious, playful, or lightsome thoughts. A better option is just to gaze quietly upon the heart of Christ. Like crossing the river, we move toward God small step by small step. We move onward inch by inch rather than waste time on hurry, or worry about the pile of work ahead of us. When God becomes our primary reality, many positive things happen to us. All that seemed important before God entered our lives takes on an insig-nificance that truly surprises us. To be faithful to the contemplative way when the going gets rough takes patience and fortitude. The con-templative way is manifest in the tranquillity of order. The more our lives are centered on Jesus, the more these traits will develop: we pray consistently, eat moderately, dress modestly, exercise appropriately, use money wisely, speak quietly, and treat others with dignity. We spend our leisure time in carefree activities, and read and use the media in ways that instruct or uplift. Our homes are simple and cozy. We conduct ourselves well and deal with our family and others with respect and grace. Rather than grumble, we do something about what causes a com-plaint. We work with concentration and good humor. Our motives are clear and direct. The quality of each day is more important than the quantity of things we do or the places we go. In dark times we may not understand what is happening, but somehow we know God is there. We trust in God and hope for the best. Indeed, there are Review for Religious many times when we lose a treasure only to find a greater treasure or lose our way only to find God's way. The contemplative way is mostly a way of silence and darkness. We want to speak about God, but we realize that images,' analogies, and words fall short. Nothing we can say seems adequate. Words are a hindrance because, although we ardently seek God, we can never really find him. If we think we have found God in our words and definitions, it is not really God, but only our own fal-tering concept about God, who is all mystery. We never fully grasp who God is. We move toward God with open hearts in the silent night. We move ahead wordless in the unknown but holy darkness. Even though God is beyond all mere human thoughts or definitions, we persevere in communing with him through prayer. It is our lifeline. To a contemplative, prayer is as important and as natural as a heart beating. Prayer is the energy that makes our spiritual lives go, and the rock that never lets us give up hope. In the inner atmosphere of prayer, we are one with God and all cre-ation. Awareness of this unity with all is at a deeper level of consciousness than that of normal life. A contempla-tive outlook is one of continual spiritual wonder. There is an awe at the sacredness of all life, which reflects the love that flows from the S6urce of life. A contemplative outlook sees without seeing, in a profound depth of faith, and knows without knowing, in knowledge too deep to understand. We know God to the extent that we are invis-ibly touched by him who has no hands. To know this is to awaken to him who is the most real. We realize God's tre-mendous love and respond to it from our deepest depths. To become all that God meant us to be is to find our true selves in Christ. To be so in touch with what is truly real lets the authenticity of our lives reach out and touch that which is most authentic in others. 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts Contemplation is a journey of love through realistic care for others. We, who are connected with all people by the strong bonds of prayer, give to them by prayer, and through the appropriate use of our talents. Yes, a con-templative way of life grows from roots in quiet prayer. Quiet prayer results in quiet listening, fine-tuned obser-vation, a giving of ourselves and a daily openness to God's mysteries and wonder. Seasoned contemplatives are well mellowed by years of quiet prayer content with mystery and wonder. They use their talents well, and are at home with themselves. The self is forgotten. Their focus on others makes their presence a transparent gift: there are no strings. The gift shows itself in people's ability to see that the givers discover, appreciate, and make wise use of the treasures hidden in everyone and everything that comes along. Being a contemplative is a never-ending liberation. We are alone but not lonely, because we are in communion with Jesus, who resides in our hearts. He is our anchor and our compass. We are one with others because we wrap them with our prayer. Other people rarely intimi-date us, because we forgive them easily and know our own unique gifts. We become more receptive, more grateful, more filled with grace. Faith is far from abstract theory; rather, it is an everyday reality sometimes shrouded in mystery. Wonder is always with us, for we look beyond appearances, set aside prejudices, and change what keeps us closed in on ourselves. As long as we move ahead, we see God in everything and thereby sense a greater unity with God who is all. As we travel on the path of love, we give away the fruits of our contemplative gifts. We also sing songs of God's love and praise, which, as Newman suggests, seem to always echo in our hearts: Review for Religious Praise to the Holiest in the height And in the depth be praise; In all his words most wonderful, Most sure in all his ways! Some Contemplative Scripture Points 1. "If you, with all your sins, know how to give your children good things, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him." Luke 11:13 2. "No one knows the Son except the Father and no one knows the Father except the Son -- and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him." Luke 10:22 3. "There are different gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good." 1 Co 12:4-7 66.4 2007 ELISSA RINERE Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life T time spent in preparing this article was, quite nesdy, a personal spiritual journey. One difficulty has been that every aspect of Christian life is a reflection of the Eucharist. The Eucharist "speaks" everything. It is all-encompassing. A dilemma arises, whether to begin with some reflections on the Eucharist and then find reli-gious life within them, or begin with some reflections on religious life and then come to a focus on the Eucharist. One author I read stated the situation very well. Eucharist implies coherence: it brings all the disparate elements of the church into unity, tending to one end, one goal, one truth.~ Religious life finds its coherence here. In canon law the Eucharist has different aspects: the celebration of the Mass, the sacrament to be received, and the sacrament reserved in a tabernacle for adoration. We can consider what these three aspects might mean in relation to our way of life in the church. Elissa Rinere CP, a canon lawyer, is Coordinator of Pastoral Planning and Director of the Office of Worship of the diocese of Norwich, Connecticut. Her address is 7E Westchester Hills; Colchester, Connecticut 06415. Review for Religious We begin by making two observations. First, the Eucharist is larger than religious life. The goal of being a eucharistic community is the goal of everyone who shares in the sacrament-of baptism. It is the mandate given to us in the Gospels. Second, the vision of what would be if we could give a pure response to this awesome mystery is different from the practice that we human beings come up with at various times in history. The vision is celestial and the practice is terrestrial. Our challenge is to bring these two things into harmony. The Eucharist as Celebration Yesterday. When I was in grade school (a public school), my friends and I went to Sunday Mass "religiously." We would, however, sit behind the stairs in the back of the church and have contests about who could find the old-est saint in the pages of our St. Andrew's Missals. We paid attention to Mass only at the consecration, when the bell rang. From behind the stairs we could not see the altar, but we did stop talking. No matter how poor our behavior, we were sure that we were fulfilling our Sunday obligation just by being there. The prayer belonged to the priest, and the people watched. Today. We say today that theology emphasized the "confection" of the Eucharist and now emphasizes "cel-ebration.'' 2 The most august sacrament is the Most Holy Eucharist in which Christ the Lord himself is contained, off-ered, and received and by which the church continu-ally lives and grows. The eucharistic sacrifice . . . is the summit and source of all worship; it signifies and effects the unity of the people of God and brings about the building up of the body of Christ. Indeed, the other sacraments and all the ecclesiastical works of the apostolate are closely connected with the Most Holy Eucharist and ordered to it. (Canon 897)3 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 388 In speaking of the Eucharist today, we would probably use the terminology of this canon, since it comes directly from the documents of Vatican Council II. The Eucharist is Christ himself. In the celebration we have the source and summit of all the church's life. That is, everything we do comes from and is brought back to the Eucharist. Every celebration is an action of the whole church. Every celebration is a sign of, and brings about, the unity of the people of God. The liturgy is the exercise, not only of the ordained priesthood, but also of the baptismal priest-hood. There was quite a journey from the focus on the confection of the Eucharist to the current focus on cel-ebration. Journey. Celebration of the Eucharist was, according to reputable authors, one of the most hotly debated top-ics of Vatican II. The manner of celebrating Eucharist is important in itself, but also because it brings a specific image of the church into existence. That is, the Eucharist is not merely a ritual; it is a creative force within the community. It is the way we express and create what we believe to be the true nature of the church. Singing our hearts out and saying the rosary fervently give different images of the church. The work of the Vatican Council to revise the cel-ebration of the Eucharist Was looked on by many as the work of the devil, an error bordering on heresy, which would destroy the church and turn us all into heretics. When the new rite of the Mass was implemented on 30 November 1969, some protesters poured red dye into fountains around Rome as a sign of mourning. "The waters of Rome run red, just as the waters of Egypt were transformed into blood" at the death of the firstborn.4 The celebration of the Eucharist became a rallying point for those opposed to the reform of the church because liturgical changes were the most obvious evi- Review for Religious dence of the reform. The council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium, SC) is a marvel of compromise, especially in the areas of language, music, and lay participation . Concerning language, the use of vernacular was encouraged, but Latin was to remain in use (SC §36). Forms of music other than Gregorian chant were encouraged, but Gregorian chant was to be retained (SC §116). Even the musical instruments native to a given country were to be employed, but the pipe organ was to retain "pride of place" among them (SC §120). Regarding lay participation, there was to be some dis-tribution of ministries within the liturgy. In the theology of confection, the priest functioned virtually alone. In the theology of celebration, there were to be authentic litur-gical ministries for the laity in virtue of their baptismal priesthood. This was objected to by those who feared an inappropriate equalizing of the two priesthoods, with lay ministries obscuring the "subordinate" nature of the bap-tismal priesthood. The revised liturgy was seen by many as an abuse of authority that removed from the church's faithful any obligation of obedience. The changes were described as "the tearing of the seamless robe of Christ, which is the church's unity.''s The best-known opponent of the liturgical renewal was Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, who established the Society of St. Pius x in the 1970s. He wrote in 1974: "We close our ears to the destructive novelties now found in the church.''6 Through the pontificate of Paul VI, the liturgical renewal continued to move forward despite objections. The Eucharist is not merely a ritual; it is a creative force within the community. 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Later on, there were several instances of a slowing of the renewal. Some would say there has been a "pulling back" from some of the foundational principles of the reform movement. In early April 2007, an item on the Catholic News Service website announced that a policy was in the works to restore some use of the Tridentine Mass in the whole church. (It was being used only by permission of diocesan bishops.) The article said that the restoration was aimed at "ending a liturgical dispute which has simmered in the church for more than twenty years" and thus bringing greater unity. [Benedict xvI issued the document on July 7, 2007. (ed.)] Why have I brought up all this history? I did it to point out that the celebration of Eucharist--the source and summit of the church's life--has been a hotbed of controversy, not just for decades but for centuries, and that we manage to go forward only through dialogue, discus-sion, and compromise. Little by little, despite difficulties, the celebration is becoming more diverse, more incultur-ated, allowing for more and more differences of opinion. From all reports, liturgical changes will continue to be announced. Pope Benedict, in the apostolic exhortation recently published, mentions the possibility of the Sign of Peace being moved to some other spot. And, of course, there remain difficulties concerning the new translation of the Roman Missal, which is a topic for another day. Connection to Religious Life The theological vision of the Eucharist as celebration is the unity of the church. The church, of course, is all the people of God, all the baptized. For religious life, then, within this great vision is the goal of unity toward which we progress through our human practices. In contrast to the vision, ways of celebrating the Eucharist keep disturb-ing some. Forty years ago it was a tug-of-war between Review for Religious traditionals and progressives. Today a new element has been added: those who find the Eucharist unacceptably clerical, exclusionary, hierarchical, or rigid. For these peo-ple, Eucharist is often a painful experience of oppression rather than a time of prayer and unity. Hopefully they find better experiences elsewhere. All these points of view on the celebration of the Eucharist are found in some religious communities. Can Eucharist be a point of unity in them? It depends, I think, on whether people are willing to compromise for the sake of one another. This becomes, then, a question of ecclesiology. Religious life is called to be prophetic in the church. What visions of the church are present in our communi-ties? We constantly seek practices of celebration that will bring us closer to the theological vision of unity. °- Inasmuch as the practice of the Eucharist as cel-ebration has continually moved forward, has never stagnated, and has always sought better balance between conflicting prin-ciples by becoming appro-priately inclusive and diverse, it is, in my opinion, mirrored in religious life. We can see ourselves reflected in the evolu-tion, the tensions, the struggles to do the right thing. If the Eucharist is not at the heart of our unity, but rather a point of strife and division, we should discuss not the Eucharist, but rather what it means to be church, prophet, and peacemaker. Where we do not dialogue and do not discuss, compromise, forgive, and accept what we might not prefer for the sake of the common good, the Eucharist itself may not help much. Eucharist is often a painful experience of oppression :rather than a time of prayer and unity. ,391 66.4 2007 Rinere * Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Eucharist as Sacrament to Be Received Why discuss receiving the received Eucharist sepa-rately from celebration? Besides having some distinct characteristics, reception has undergone some signifi-cant developments. In today's theological vision, it can be described as multilevel communion: inner communion with Jesus and intercommunion with all others who share the Body and Blood of Christ. Yesterday. Those who recall the early years of the 20th century before Vatican II may have observed some people receiving Communion rather rarely. Only priests distributed Communion, and only the consecrated hosts were distributed, not the chalice with the precious Blood. Returning silently to their places in the pews, communi-cants knelt reverendy and, bowing their heads, communed adoringly with the Lord they had just received. Receiving Communion was an act of public and private devotion. Today the changes are clear. Receiving Communion is frequent. Few people stay in their places and refrain from receiving. "Extraordinary" Eucharistic ministers are com-mon. Communicants may receive in the hand or not, and Communion under both species is common. Receiving Communion is a natural consequence, of being present at the celebration. The 2002 General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the distribution of the Eucharist as a procession in which part.icipants come forward as a community, sing, and receive Communion. Sharing in Communion is to actualize the Eucharistic community and also to foster a personal relationship with Christ. Not long afterwards the Eucharistic community is dismissed with the commission to be Eucharist to those they encoun-ter. St. Augustine is often quoted as writing "Receive who you are, and be the One you have received." The "energy" surrounding the reception of the Eucharist has changed from being personal and inward Review for Religious to being outward, communal, ministerial, and unifying. Receiving the Eucharist commissions us to inner prayer, but also to the service of others--to be bread broken. Our service of others comes from our unity in Christ. Journey. The history of the liturgical renewal focuses on practices and attitudes. In the history of the Eucharist as sacrament, the two most universally accepted innova-tions were the reception of Communion in the hand and the distribution of Communion by the laity. These were never really wanted by the church authorities who were regulating the reform. In 1968 the bishops of Belgium and Germany asked permission to experiment with Communion in the hand because it was a faster method of distribution. When the experiment ended three years later, the people refused to give up the option. Finally, in 1974, all efforts to eliminate the practice were stopped. With some similarities, extraordinary ministers have been reluctantly permitted to function since 1969. As late as 2006, official documents have reminded the whole church of how "inappropriate" this ministry is for the noncleric. Catholics still feel more comfortable with receiving the Eucharist as an act of personal devotion. Witness the difficulties of implementing the liturgical principles connected with the Communion procession: People do not sing, many still rush the line, many leave the church early. I suggest also that people are not enthusiastic about "Eucharist received" as a commission to ministry. Nor are people quick to realize the unity fostered by their sharing in the Body and Blood of Christ. Religious Life. From my experience of religious com-munities, I have the impression that many religious pre-fer the personal and devotional aspects of receiving the Eucharist to the ministerial aspects--the outward ser-vice- and only afterward the unifying aspects of being 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life "Eucharist received:'; is certainly re qected in the service every Christian renders to others. part of the Eucharistic community. There is a tendency, after personal devotion, to be more invested in service to others than in service to one another in our religious communities--even though service to community mem-bers comes, of course, from our being united by our shar-ing in the Eucharist. "Eucharist received" is certainly reflected in the service every Christian renders to others. However, Eucharist received also should be reflected in those rela-tionships which are closest. For instance, within families the Eucharistic bond is intended to be effective-- real--between spouses and parents and children. This Eucharistic bond forms the "domestic church" that is at the heart of mar-riage. For religious, the Eucharistic bond must be at the heart of commu-nity relationships--a true force holding the community together. Most women religious no longer live in large institutional settings where they would form the daily Eucharistic community at Mass. Nowadays the unify-ing force of the Eucharist, wherever members share in it, should find its .first and most clear reflection at home, where we live with each other. Discussion, or any way of reflecting in community life the Eucharist as sacrament received, would best not focus on the Eucharist as such, but on the quality of our com-munity life, the Eucharistic character of our relationships with one another. What are the Eucharistic characteristics of relation-ships? What are the Eucharistic characteristics of com-munity relationships? How do we call one another to Review for Religious be Christ for each other in community? W-here is the Eucharist we receive effective in our communities? Groups that grapple with questions like these do not seek clear and definitive answers. Rather, they seek bonding, shar-ing one another's weaknesses, failures, successes, foibles. Perhaps being Eucharistic means forgiving and accepting rather than getting things right. If we can struggle with these kinds of questions, with this level of honesty, we will experience our religious life as mirroring our "Eucharist received." Our reception of the Eucharist will inspire an expanding vision; our act of private devotion will seek fulfillment in service to others and unity with those closest to us. Eucharist as Object of Adoration Let us now consider the Eucharist as an object of adoration. This aspect of the Eucharist has a significant history in the church, although such devotional practices as benediction and exposition did not develop until the 12th century or later. Historically, Eucharistic devotions originated as ways to safeguard and emphasize the doc-trine of the Real Presence. Benediction, exposition, and processions were theologically inspired rites intended to confirm the faith of the faithful on this point. The Real Presence, of course, suggests adoration. And theological vision sees adoration as finding a ritual completeness in celebration and other worthy activity. Nourishment from the Eucharist gives strength for carrying out apostolic action. Yesterday. Again, older people will recall the not uncommon practices of concluding Mass with benedic-tion or having exposition during Mass. Every parish had its time for Forty Hours Devotion. The architecture of churches called attention to the tabernacle and the Real Presence. Today we are seeing some resurgence of tradi- 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 396 tional devotions, even a return to traditional architecture. But is it merely a return of what was, or has there been some degree of transformation? Today. In his recent apostolic exhortation Sacramenturn caritatis, Pope Benedict speaks of the intrinsic relationship between Eucharistic adoration and Eucharistic celebra-tion. He says the relationship is much more clearly seen since the liturgical renewal brought about by Vatican II. He refers, of course, to the years it has taken to find a bal-ance between the Eucharist seen in celebration and recep-tion, and the interior and personal aspects of Eucharistic devotions and adoration. Journey. Vatican II set out the basic principle that devotional practices are to "harmonize with the liturgi-cal seasons, accord with sacred liturgy, [be] in some way derived from it, and lead the people to it, since in fact the liturgy by its very nature is far superior to any of them" (SC §13). Echoing this principle, Pope Benedict calls ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament a "natural consequence" of the celebration, which "intensifies all that takes place during the celebration itself" (§66). Devotions that do not relate to the celebration of the Eucharist, that do not call to mission and community and lead back to the celebra-tion of the Mass, are incomplete. That is, adoration is completed by outward relationships. Consider for a minute that a part of the renewal sur-rounding eucharistic devotions concerned the placement of tabernacles in churches. An instruction published in 1967 stated the principle of why tabernacles should not be on the altar: In the celebration of the Mass the principal modes of Christ's presence to his church emerge clearly, one after the other: first he is seen to be present in the assembly of the faithful gathered in his name; then in his word, with the reading and explanation of Scripture; also in Review for Religious the person of the minister; finally, in a singular way, under the eucharistic elements. Consequently, on the grounds of the sign value, it is more in keeping with the nature of the celebration that, through reserva-tion of the sacrament in the tabernacle, Christ not be present eucharistically from the beginning on the altar where Mass is celebrated. (Instruction E~¢charisticum mysterium, 25 May 1967, §55) From that one principle came the years of wrangling over the placement of tabernacles in churches. The argu-ments went from on or off the altar to in or out of the sanctuary, from the body of the church to a side chapel. No clear consensus ever emerged, so now all disputes are settled by the diocesan bishop. The questions on tabernacles are relate~l to how peo-ple understand the Eucharistic presence of Christ in the Mass and the various other modes of his presence in the celebration of the Mass. Before Vatican II, Eucharistic devotions acknowledged the Real Presence in the taber-nacle and tended to ignore the other modes of Christ's presence. It seems these devotions had to disappear while the community became more familiar with the presence of Christ in the assembly, the word, and the priest; and the tabernacle had to move so we would find Christ in one another. Now we see a resurgence of Eucharistic devotions in many parishes and religious houses. This resurgence could be a regression to what was, inner adoration for its own sake, or it could be a reworking or a reweav-ing of the inward and outward aspects of the presence of Christ. Pope Benedict said in the apostolic exhortation: "If suitably updated, traditional Eucharistic devotions are worthy of being practiced today" (§68). In other words, insofar as the traditional Eucharistic devotions are united to and balanced with the celebration of the Mass, both are enriching. If either branch of Eucharistic expression loses 397 66.4 2007 398 Rinere * Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life touch with the other, the mutual enrichment is frustrated. If the inner life of adoration does not enrich the outward impulse to service, the fullness of the Eucharistic reality is lost. If the outward impulse to service is not personal-ized by an inner adoration, the fullness of the Eucharistic reality is lost. This balance between inner devotion to the Real Presence in the Eucharist and outward service to the Real Presence in others is the goal for all Christians. We undertake action for justice when Christ is really present for us in one another. Religious Life. At the time of the council, the Eucharistic life of the church had not changed in a long time. The council presented the challenge of renewing and updating our Eucharistic worship and devotions so they reflected a balance between inner tradition and outward action. Now hear that again, with some words changed: At the time of the council, religious life had not changed in a long time. The council presented the challenge of renewing and updating our way of life so that it reflected a balance between inner tradition and outward action. Those who entered our communities in the 1960s happily and gloriously threw off old trappings of reli-gious life as we moved into the 20th century from the 17th, 18th, or 19th. In my own community we jettisoned what kept us inward, cloistered, separated from the world around us. Just as Eucharistic life of the church seeks the balance between tradition and progress, religious communities need the same cautious pursuit. Thus, discussions about Eucharistic adoration .might really be about whether our way of life is or is not balanced between tradition and progress. In the past forty years, have we progressed well in all things? What did we remove from our lives and why? Did we eliminate anything that we need now to hold us Review for Religious together? Did we erase anything that spoke clearly of who we are and what we are about? How can we more. effectively weave past, present, and future together? I do not know the answers to these questions, but wouldn't they make for some interesting conversation at community gatherings? There is much talk these days about women religious being "invisible" in the church. There is much mutter-ing about traditional communities having many vocations while progressive communities do not. Can the struggle to find a balance between inward Eucharistic adoration and outward service be instruc-tive here? Religious life, too, seeks a path of fidelity. We have looked at three aspects of the all-encompassing topic of the Eucharist. Regarding Eucharist as celebration, Eucharist as sacrament received, and Eucharist as object of adoration, we traced some struggles of the last forty years. Can we see ourselves reflected in the mystery which is the "source and summit" of all Christian life? Are we celebratory despite our differences? Can we compromise for the common good? Are we Eucharistic in our deal-ings with one another within community? Are our lives a good balance between tradition and progress, between adoration and action, between yesterday and tomorrow? Looking into such questions would bring Eucharist to the center of the room. It would become more clear to us that the source and summit of the church's life is the source and summit of our lives as well, for "the other sac-raments and all the ecclesiastical works of the apostolate are closely connected with the Most Holy Eucharist and ordered to it" (canon 897). Notes ' Paul Quenon ocso, "The Eucharist: Symbol of Coherence," in The Sacraments: Readings in Contemporary Sacramental Theology, ed. Michael Taylor SJ (New York: Alba House, 1981), p. 145. 399 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 2 Joseph Powers SJ, "Eucharist, Mystery of Faith and Love," in Taylor, Sacraments, p. 119. 3 Code of Canon Law: Latin-English Edition (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1999). 4 Annibale Bugnini, The Reform of the Liturgy: 1948-1975 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1990), p. 289. 5 Bugnini, p. 280. 6 Bugnini, p. 294. 7 See Bugnini, pp. 640-661. 400 Fool's Gold Golden moon of year's end, fiat in the sky, sliding, shrouded, out again, high. No denomination marks its face-- not harvest or prairie, blue moon or silver: no song or moan just moon, alone. But I, contented, lie under this wintry sky chewing on pieces of winter moon tasting of June. Eilee~ Haugh OSF Review for Reli~ous A. PAUL DOMINIC The Christ Child, the Father of the Man For all the humbleness of Christ's birth as Luke portrays it, there is no denying the glamour of Christmas, however people perceive it and adapt theinselves into it. It was so at the first Christmas. The shepherds, the Magi, and Herod all behaved differently. The yearly Christmas in our days smacks of different traditions in differ-ent places. Also, the glamour in church is differ-ent from that of the market; people are attracted or repulsed. But surely there is room for some new traditions, if only they are sensitively cre-aged and sensibly introduced. To start with, however, it is worth discerning what is definitely good and downright bad in the usual responses to Christmas. One may contrast here the experience of Christian children with that of the secular publicJ Christian children celebrating Christmas have an innocence and A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us earlier this year, in our 66.2 issue. His new address is Human Development Centre; Port Mourant; Corentyne; Guyana, South America. Jesus and Mary 401 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 402 insight worthy of the true splendor of Christmas, reveal-ing it particularly in their mirth, as G.K. Chesterton has noted. The same thing cannot be said of the merely sec-ular Christmas, an expensive seasonal festival in winter attracting all and sundry. If the commercial Christmas catering to compulsive spending mars the innocent glam-our of Christmas, recent campaigns for the abolition of even the word Christmas would achieve a mere mimicry of Christmas devoid of mirth and glamour. Common among Catholics (at least in India) is another scenario, one they are fond of. Although they are not ignorant of the basic truth of Christmas, they are not well enough informed to appreciate, much less appropriate, the genuine glamour of what they celebrate. They have remained more or less with the same glimpse of Christmas as they had in their childhood. Their enjoy-ment of Christmas has remained stuck in the categories of the child-mind, that has however lost its intuitive spiritual ~ision. So they almost make an idol of the Christ Child, or at least diminish him in their own eyes. Such a rou-tine and even stunted devotion readily becomes a cult of the Infant Jesus carried on throughout the year, even during Lent and the Easter season. Such a popular cult with its unholy accretions--not the least of which is the mushrooming of miracles reminiscent of those reported in the apocryphal gospels--has prospered in India and caused Infant Jesus shrines to be built that attract not only Christians but also Hindus and Muslims. In such vagaries or caricatures of piety, one cannot but suspect something unwholesome and un-Christian. An illustra-tion of this would be a simple Hindu asking a Catholic if the Infant Jesus is a God different from the Christ on the cross. One may compare this to what a biblical scholar says about the Christmas crib. He does .not deny Francis of Assisi's contribution to Christmas when he made the Review for Religious first creche to illustrate the infancy gospels, but he says: "One can appreciate that enormous contribution and still be obliged to wonder whether, through fostering maud-lin sentimentality, the crib/creche might in certain circum-stances become false to the main theological purposes of those narratives." 1 Surely, then, the devotion to the Infant Jesus can-not follow the ancient apocryphal fervor or the modern materialistic route, but must derive, as always, from divine inspiration. The litur-gical inspiration based on Scripture has a pri-mary place. As the old saying goes, lex orandi, lex credendi (the law of prayer is the law of belief). The populaF Infant Jesus devotion has got it wrong,, pro-moting the supposed -- saying of the Infant Jesus in an apparition: "The more you honor me the more I will bless you." This reflects the gosPel tradition regarding Jesus' infancy only minimally. On the other hand, the liturgy, with its true springs of devotion, spreads out the mystery of Christ during the year, including the annunciation to Mary and the birth of her Son, his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension, and the coming of the Holy Spirit. Such thinking is in line with what the pristine church came to discover before the close of the first century. After pondering the Lordship of Christ revealed in his death and resurrection, it came to realize his Lordship at his very birth. The early Christians intuited, as shown in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, that Christ was the Lord at his birth, indeed, at his very coriception. John The devotion to the Infant Jesus canno't follow the ancient apocryphal fervor or the modern materialistic route. 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 404 made bold to say that the only-begotten Son of God became flesh, to be identified as Christ. Inheriting the full intuition of the evangelists faithfully enough, every gen-eration of Christians must learn to embrace the whole of the mystery of Christ. The only way open to us is that we reverse the way the first generation traversed, beginning where they ended and ending where they began. What they could understand only backwards, from the end, we start from the beginning. So we may frame a question as follows. Knowing that Christmas is not a self-contained mystery suitable for children and guarded by conservators, how can adult Christians celebrate and enjoy it for what it is, namely, an incipient open-ended mystery? A simple answer, already hinted at, is that we ought to be forward looking, developing an eschatological sensitivity. An initial clue may be found in Luke's telling of Christ's birth as following upon John's. At his birth John was very special to his parents and even their neighbor-hood. For all that, however, their focus was on the future; they wondered, "What will this child be?" That was the way they were interested in him as a unique individual of exceptional worth and grace. "For the hand of the Lord was with him" (Lk 1:66). However glorious he was at his birth, reminiscent of Isaac, Samson, and Samuel, it was no more than a measure of his future. Rightly, then, his father Zechariah gave voice to the unanimous expecta-tion of his neighbors, uttering a prophecy about his long-awaited son: And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Lk 1:76-79) Review for Religious In the story of Jesus, too, the same pattern of inter-est is noticeable. When Jesus was born and the news was made known to others, the focus was on what was to follow. If the shepherds told the details of the newborn child, it was not to glorify him in his swaddling clothes and perpetuate him in the manger; rather, the minutiae surrounding him were signs of what he was destined to be. Born a savior, he would prove himself a born savior, though one of an unexpected sort: he would save his peo-ple from their sins. The infant Savior was then and there no perfect Savior, if one may dare put it that way, for he was to become perfect in time's due course. Explicitly averring so in an early passage (5:8-9), the Letter to the Hebrews expatiates upon it later: When Christ came into the world, he said, "Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, 'See, I have come to do your will, O God.'" . . . When he said above "You have neither desired nor taken pleasure in sacrifices and offerings and burnt offerings and sin offerings," then he added, "See, I have come to do your will." He abolishes the first in order to establish the second. And it is by God's will that we have been sanc-tified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. (Heb 10:5-10) Besides Savior, another title of the infant Jesus was King, both in Luke and Matthew. The glory of any infant king lies in his future. So when the Angel Gabriel announced to Mary God's plan for her, he did not con-fine himself to remarks about the pleasant or miracu-lous details of Jesus' birth or status; rather, he went on to describe intently his purposeful destiny. Born in the line of King David, he would himself be a king in his own right, but, unlike David, would exercise his king-ship without end. Something of that future both King 405 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man Perhaps no mature mother could be absorbed totally in the present affairs of her child without being future oriented. 406 Herod's fear and the faith of the Magi foresaw, and they acted accordingly only to prove in different ways the last-ing kingship of him who, however, could exercise it only when he came of age. For all her motherly adoration of the Christ Child, Mary was not wholly occupied with his existence as a bun-dle of wonder. Right from her conception of this child, she was forward looking even as she became involved with him and treasured her immediate experience of him. Even in the first flush of her motherhood, she was left wondering what her child was going to be, especially after hearing what the visiting shepherds had to tell her about him. As she gazed at him in her arms, she also kept peering into whatever was emerging about him indicative of his future. A highly significant occasion was her meeting with Simeon. Hearing .his utterance, glorious and yet strange, about the destiny of her child for the rising and falling of many in Israel, she could not rest content clinging to Jesus only as to the son of her womb. Going beyond her motherhood, she had to set her eyes on the prophetic figure that he was to grow into, fulfilling the expectations of her own people. Perhaps no mature mother .could be absorbed totally in the present affairs of.her child without being future oriented, especially as the child grows out of childhood. Mary was led to visualize her Son's future right from the start by the divine intervention she recognized in her-self and the shepherds and the Magi and Simeon and, Review for Religious of course, her own Son, especially on his first visit to the temple. One may well say that almost every event in her life had a way of transporting her from her present involvement with her Son to the oncoming scenario of his life. Her life with her Son consisted, then, in detecting and discerning God's designs for him. It was an experi-ence of not merely seeing her Son with her wondering eyes and cherishing him as her own flesh and blood in homely surroundings. More than that, it was a matter of her perceiving him beyond space and time and so seek-ing an understanding of him as the grown man he was becoming. If ever the child is the father of the man, it was uniquely so in the case of her Son, Jesus. Such an ¯ understanding could not be given or received by flesh and blood. In her own way but also in the light of her Son's ever revealing Abba, who was and is and will be, Mary pondered the mystery of her child, whether suckling or growing and maturing. If there was a time when people knew Jesus only in the flesh, it could not continue that way; it had to cease sooner or later (see 2 Co 5:16).2 And Mary, his mother, would have learned this early, though it seems she never learned it enough. That is why, at certain junctures, she did not understand her Son's words and deeds. Her Son was deepening her understanding and her consolation. It is a credit to her that she continued to ponder what was occurring.3 The babyhood, childhood, and youth of Jesus were passing stages in more ways than one. He grew--continued to grow--in age, wisdom, and grace. If Mary was not unaware of her Son's growth, she could be stunned at times by what seemed a sudden growth and awareness. This.concerned his unique relationship with his Abba, even to the point of letting his earthly parents become deeply worried about him when we was twelve, at the dawn of his Jewish adulthood. All the rest of his life 407 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 4O8 stoW told in the Gospels, including his passion, death, and resurrection, was an unfolding of that initial appreciation of his Abba's delight. It is in this light that at Christmas we can hear the whisper of the Father to his Son: "You are my Son; today I have begotten you" (Ps 2:7). Later, of course, we hear "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Lk 3:22). Anyone who does not cherish such a perspective of Jesus even while being engaged in contemplating his childhood misses in no small measure the mystery that he is. The great mystery of our religion is indeed pre-cisely he, the kind of person he was and is. It is multipolar mystery touching many stages of his life, one leading to the other not only step by step but by leaps and bounds. An ancient hymn sang it thus: He was revealed in flesh, vindicated in spirit, seen by angels, preached among Gentiles, believed in throughout the world, taken up in glory. (1 Tm 3:16) Revelation of him in the flesh is indeed Christmas and Christmas gloW. To appreciate it fully, all three elements in the description--the person revealed, the fact of rev-elation, and the mode of revelation--must be weighed and valued. Perhaps John does this best and so he can say, "The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glow, the gloW as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth" On 1:14). This glow, of course, is the gloW of his entire life. St. Ignatius, till sometime after his conversion, was not an enlightened believer. He came to be blessed with enlightenment, however, as he matured in the faith. He shared his experience in his practical notes that became the classic Spiritual Exercises. There he proposes a con- Review for Religious templation on Jesus' birth in which he helps retreatants not to miss the fullness of the Christmas mystery. He points out that, if the Lord is born in great poverty, it is so that, after many hardships such as hunger, thirst, heat, cold, injuries, insults, and so forth, he may die on the cross.4 The church discovered such a spirit and introduced it in its way of praying. It nurtured it in a simple way through the Angelus. Reciting it three times a day, any-one-- child or adult, peasant or professional, artist or scientist--can learn to be at home with the full mystery of Christ. The three antiphons and three Hail Marys recall the mystery of joy at Christmas and associate us with Mary, who knew that joy as no one else. The conclud-ing prayer begins again with the annunciation/incarna-tion only to lead to the mystery of the passion, cross, and resurrection. There is no better way of doing homage to Jesus at any time, even Christmas. The Story of the Other Wise Man by Henry Van Dyke teaches all this in another way. With the proverbial three wise men, a fourth one, named Artaban, plans to visit the newborn Jewish king. He sets out with three gifts for him: a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl. But, on the way to the agreed place of meeting, he finds a sick traveler lying alone on his desert path. He stays with him to nurse him to health. That prevents him from reaching his friends in time. Left alone, he sells his sapphire to provide him-self with the necessary caravan for the journey. When he reaches his destination, he finds sadly that the family of the baby king has fled from Bethlehem to escape Herod's murderous plans. To the house where he is staying, sol-diers come to slaughter a child, and he gives his ruby to them and saves the terrified mother and child. Setting out again, he travels far and wid

Issue 65.4 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Searching Wisdom Apprediating the Word ¯ Living Chastely QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 '~ Review for-ReligiouS-fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one ~ ¯ ~another, about the holiness we try to live according . _ tO charisms of Catholic religious life. As~Pope Paul vlsaid~ our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 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. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission tnust bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, 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. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Claire Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVO Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 contents prisms 342 searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Kathleen Hughes RSCJ suggests a three-stage process that any leadership team might use or adapt in order to consider their years of service and come to closure on a privileged and grace-filled time in their lives. 354 Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Thomas G. Casey SJ reflects on the importance of imitating Jesus by cultivating intelligence and nourishing wisdom, and suggests ways to go about it. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 365 appreciating the word ~ Andrew Ryder SCJ underlines the valuable Vatican II gift of the lectionary--the three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and the Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels--and its place in the tradition going back to Old Testament times. Review for Religious 375 Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation Brendan Kneale FSC reflects on the final four doctrines of the Apostles' Creed, developing the consolations that they entail for our deepest human concerns. Prayer Suggestion 382 God's Invitation Armand Nigro SJ has us listen to God's invitation to prayer. 384 living chastely Sexuality and Celibate Chasti.ty: Friends Not Foes Sefin D. Sammon FMS reviews the growth process in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity in their mutual aim at union with God and others. Reflection and Discussion Questions 399 "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? Annette M. Pelletier II-hVl examines how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" illuminates what it means to be a "bride of Christ." 414 "I Will Espouse You": The Religious Profession Ring Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR explains the origin, history, and meaning of the,religious profession ring. departments 423 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of Luke 427 Canonical Counsel: The Q.O.T. Principle 433 Book Reviews 445 2006 Indexes 339 prisms 340 Time is always with us. Sometimes we seem to have too much time, and we say that "it drags." Probably, more often, we claim that we have too little time, and we appear to be rushing around, just a little bit late for our next appointment. Although we don't ordinarily give much thought to it, there is another major difference about time. Some would see it as cyclic--what we allude to when we use the aphorism "What goes around comes around." Others would understand time as linear, like the flow of a river in whose same waters we can never step twice. Our Jewish-Catholic tradition has placed us peo-ple of faith solidly within the linear notion of time. We have but one life to live, all of its rela-tionships and its growth and its diminishment viewed within the prism of our own developing relationship with God. At first, it may appear that the church litur-gical year has opted for the cyclic model of time. With the celebration of the feast of Christ the King, we bring Ordinary Time to an end, and we begin again another liturgical year with the season of Advent, followed by Christmas, and eventually again the Lenten season, and so on. But as a time for personal growth, each season of the church year issues the call and challenge for us, not to repeat practices in a stimulus-response Review ~br Religion, s . sort of way, but to enter more responsibly and full-heart-edly into the daily mystery of a life with God. Just as we do not want to celebrate this Christmas with the exact same interior response that we had last Christmas, so, too, we do not want vow renewals, whether of marriage anniversaries or religious profession anniversaries, to be merely a repeat of where we were at that moment of the original ceremony. We have moved on, hopefully in the depth of our love and commitment. Only one thing is certain: we cannot remain exactly the same, since, in time, we are either moving forward--growing--or fall-ing back--diminishing or becoming less. Our use of time, then, needs to be regularly evalu-ated. At certain points within our daily lived experience, like the end of a project, the completion of a group activ-ity, a working together at an assigned task, we need to make an assessment. Every assessment follows basically the questions within the Ignatian daily examen. How has God been present to us within this time? How have we ignored or kept God from our ken? Have we grown in our relationship with God and with others through this time period? These questions are foundational as to our measurement of success or failure, how we have used our time, a precious gift of God to us. In the November time we remember the dead, those who have gone on before us. So, as we begin the new Advent and Christmas seasons, let us more eagerly look forward to meeting "in good time" our God of eternity. Time is God's gift of transport ever carrying us more quickly to our life with God forever--time without end. Our time now always needs its moments of celebration. Through the church year and through our workaday events, we take time to celebrate God's gifting. 341 David L. Fleming sJ 65.4 2006 KATHLEEN HUGHES searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Several weeks after five of us assumed positions of leadership in the United States Province of the Religious of the Sacred Heart, we each received a brochure for a workshop on "Transitioning Out of Leadership." We laughed a bit nervously, wondering how we got on that mailing list and who might be trying to tell us something! Six years later, however, we were ready for a pro-cess which would help us to leave office grace-fully, but soon we discovered that very little was available.~ While leadership transition has often been the subject of articles and workshops, gen-erally the focus is on identifying and equipping new leaders for the ministry which they have or will soon assume. The Leadership Conference of Women Religious of the United States, for example, annually offers an excellent seminar for new leaders whose goal is competence and skills in spiritual leadership, finance, canon and civil law, human development, and communica- Kathleen Hughes RSCJ was provincial of the Society of the Sacred Heart 1999-2005. Her address is Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research; P.O. Box 2000; Collegeville, Minnesota 56321. E-maih khughes@rscj.org Review for Religious tions. Team building is considered. Conflict resolution is explored. There is no shortage of articles, talks, seminars, and itinerant consultants, all of them promoting effective, even prophetic leadership within religious communities. One day, though, all that knowledge, all those skills, all the relationships which have developed, all the dis-cernment and decision~making and menial tasks that keep the machine well oiled stop abruptly. One day a ministry which has been all-consuming ends so suddenly that it could be likened to a trap door opening up and swallow-ing those above it. The former leaders get on planes or at least move across town, and the new leadership team move into their offices, probably freshly painted, with flowers on the desk. At the end of a leadership mandate there is both pres-sure and pride in leaving things in good order. Cleaning, sorting, and purging files takes time and the sound of shredding can be heard outside every office. The more important narrative and historic records are classified, labeled, and sent to the archives. Extraneous materials are eliminated from computers, especially all those e-mails that it once seemed so urgent to save. Leadership teams old and new meet together to discuss imminent concerns, financial realities, and personnel matters. Long-range planning, anniversaries pending, and events already on the calendar are noted. Members who are in transition in ministry, community, or for personal reasons are given special consideration. A final annual report is prepared, printed, and mailed. There is also the packing up and moving of each one's goods and paraphernalia, all the while wondering how so much accumulated. There is the physical move to a new community, quite possibly in a new city, the planning of a vacation or sabbatical, the reflection about a next min-istry, and the timing of it all. Finally there are the good- 6~.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully byes with their attendant lunches and dinners and the rituals of thanks which are particular to each leadership team. There is a lot to attend to in the final days. And because there is so much pressure at the end of a term to "leave the place in good shape," it is possible that the persons involved may not be in good shape at all or may walk away from office without ever actually leaving it. How do we prepare our own hearts for the handing over? Well before our term was up, we anticipated the need for a good process which would help us reflect on our years of service, imagine the future, and care for one another through the transition. This article will explore the three-stage process which we developed, a series of day-long conversations, spaced over many months, which helped us to hand over our work and come to closure on an important and grace-filled time in our lives. The first two "conversations" happened in the months before we left office; the final "conversation" happened six months later. 3441 Looking Back: Blessings and Bruises Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. Sometimes experiences, events, and encounters are a source of great joy; at other times moments have been hurtful to those involved, however unintentional the pain. When leaving office it is impor-tant to look back at the blessings and the bruises in order to celebrate, to grieve, to repent, to forgive, and to give thanks--in about equal measure. It is often said that administrators spend ninety-five percent of their time on five percent of the people. Perhaps in religious life the percentages are a bit dif-ferent, but there is no doubt that much time and atten-tion are given over to people or situations of crisis. In the press of work in the day-to-day, it is possible to lose sight of the larger picture, the courageous growth, the Reviev~ for Religious fidelity to prayer, the simple generosity, the willingness to stay in dialogue during times of conflict, the healing that happens, the beauty and depth which conversations reveal, the opportunities to inspire and bless, the witness of long and faithful lives spent in service, the moments of insight, the risks taken and welcomed, all the tiny acts of kindness--all the blessings great and small that those in leadership experience happening in the membership and in themselves. The opportunity to serve in leadership is itself a great privilege and a blessing. The openness of the membership in speaking of their inner journey, their joys and their struggles, is deeply edifying. The amazing zeal for minis-try and witness for justice of some, the courageous battle with substance abuse of oth-ers, the struggle to under-stand what faith-filled living means in the midst of cul-tural and religious upheaval, the suffering borne with sweetness and peace, the courage in the midst of great personal darkness--each member, each story, each grace witnessed by those in leadership has been a blessing which changes them forever. In gathering the blessings of their years of leadership, the team rightly delight in their own a~complishments too: prayer fostered and deepened, initiatives begun, participation encouraged, staff strengthened, systems put in place, strides taken to assure financial solvency, and, above all, mission clarified, supported, and sustained. In addition, the unique contribution of each one on the leadership team to the work of the whole must be cel-ebrated. Members of a team are blessings to each other, especially in the darker times. Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully In looking back, there is also much to repent and to grieve about. Misunderstandings happen. We hurt each other by too hasty responses, by clumsy decisions unsea-soned by experience, by expectations which are too great or too small, by seeming indifference to suffering. We hurt each other by passing over gifts, by the triangula-tion of third-party conversations, by wielding authority in a sometimes autocratic manner. We hurt each other often more because of ignorance or lack of competence than negligence or malice--which does not make the pain any less. There is much to grieve about and to regret as lead-ers leave office, and much to learn in the letting go. A leadership team can help each other not to exaggerate bruises, to remind someone who feels deep regret that she did her best with the knowledge she had and, besides, that she can tease out of the situation some wisdom to use in the future. The team can remind one another that forgiveness and reconciliation do not happen because we will them but because time and grace make them pos-sible, perhaps long after the arbitrary date for a change of administration. Lines from Psalm 103 perfecdy capture the deepest real-ity: that the ministry of leadership is ultimately God's work. It is God who has blessed us and our community in so many ways; it is God who forgives and heals and makes whole when we have failed to be blessings for one another. My soul, bless the Lord, bless God's holy name! My soul, bless the Lord, hold dear all God's gifts! Bless God who forgives your sin and heals every illness, who snatches you from death and enfolds you with tender care, Review for Religqous who fills your life with richness and gives you an eagle's strength. Bless the Lord, ~ny soul.2 Looking Forward: Living Deliberately A second day-long conversation addresses the future with this question: How will I live my life differently because of these years of service? Leadership experi-ence cannot help but change those who serve. They have attended the school of life and love. They have been exposed to the best and the worst in human nature. In the process, convictions are formed about what constitutes holy healthy living. Before taking leave of service and of one's compan- - -- ions in leadership, talking together about newly formed convictions commits the speakers to embracing them as a way of life upon rejoining the general membership. Here are a few examples. Leaders may have developed a pattern of consistent common prayer which has sup-ported and sustained the team, built trust among them, helped them know and love each other in deep relation-ships, and, above all, convinced them that God is cen-tral to everything they do and every decision they take. Regular common prayer, in a word, has supported and sustained them in ministry. They know it is possible; they know it is necessary; they intend, in the communities they join, to negotiate ways of praying together in some con-sistent pattern. Leaders have had the privilege of seeing growth among the members. They have witnessed genuine con-version and new life, even among those who seemed to Leadership experience ;Cannot help but change those, who serve. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully be mired in long-established patterns which had made many people give up on them. From the perspective of leadership, it is clear that "with God all things are pos-sible," and perhaps also with the love of others who bring people to new life. Giving people a chance to change and the space to let it happen in God's time becomes, then, a deliberate choice for the future. Another area of resolution may be in the way one decides, or not, to continue to take risks. Assuming lead-ership itself is a huge risk. Leadership candidates prob-ably asked themselves many questions before taking the leap of faith to congregational service: Do I have the gifts, the vision, the stamina, the public presence, even a thick enough skin? And what an amazing hundredfold is the return to those who accept service. Leaders may then decide to choose risk as a way of life, not settling down, not avoiding a new ministry or a move because it is too scary, not getting into set patterns which make them "stuck" where they are and less open to new possibili-ties, not anxiously calculating the competencies or energy needed for a new venture. "Risk as a way of life" implies that those who have completed leadership became secure in the "grace of office," that is, the promise of God's presence always, no matter the risk. No exceptions. Living deliberately in light of one's service may also include a commitment to participate actively in the life of the membership, responding to the initiatives of the new team, serving on committees and task forces, tuning in to teleconferences, sending a word of gratitude for work well done or a question or comment when solicited. A conversation about deliberate choices for the future is a way to capture the best insights of each team mem-ber after some years of sorting the wheat and the chaff of religious life. Here is a typical spill of intentions from such a conversation: Review for Religious. I will be grateful that others are willing to serve; I will try to participate attentively; I will be aware that there is always more to the story and at least as many sides as people involved; I will try to be simple and pare down; I will do my best, wherever I am, to make community happen; I will cherish relationships; I will remember that people appre-ciate a personal note of gratitude, congratulations, or condolence; I will try to be a healer; I may be "sadder and wiser," but I will draw on that wis-dom; I will be thoughtful and generous in using money; I will use my newly honed gifts and skills well; I will care for my health more intentionally; I will try to respect and validate the experience and insights of each one; I will be more attentive to the international dimension of the community; I will savor and delight in doing one thing at a time; I will do one "lovely thing" each day just for fun; I will wake up every day feeling responsible for a much smaller universe--my own! Such a conversation is wide and deep, and humorous too, and it moves the transition to a new phase. While a "bless-ings and bruises" conversation is a way of looking back and letting go, this second conversation about "living deliber-ately" moves a group beyond the mandate of leadership to imagining reintegration among the membership. Looking Within: Reflecting on the Present After a period of time out of office, a third conversa-tion makes the transition complete. On leaving community service the members of the leadership team choose their own ways of resting, recuperating~ and reorienting them-selves to "ordinary time." Even those individuals who con-tinue in leadership positions have a major transition and a lot of challenges, for a new configuration of members on i349 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully the leadership team supposes very different personalities, ways of making decisions, and styles of collaboration. Weeks immediately after passing leadership on can be vulnerable times. There may be a sense of loss at many different levels--relationships, security, even status. There may be endless time on Weeks immediately after passing leadership on, can be vulnerable times; one's hands and an inability to stop the engines which have been in overdrive for so long. There may be a loss of nerve, a questioning of one's gifts and compe-tencies and whether there is a ministry and/or a community where there is a fit. There may be relationships which need to be adjusted for greater mutuality. There are decisions about whether and how much to participate in the life of the community, particularly in order to give new leaders the freedom to blaze their own trail. On the other hand, one may feel passed over when not asked for a piece of wisdom that experience presumably taught. There may be the temptation to make comparisons, to judge new initiatives in the community before they have a chance to flourish, to think but never say aloud "That won't work. We tried that!" There may be the awkwardness of knowing too much along with a need to mourn no longer being part of the easy rapport of a team bound to confidentiality. Team members who have worked closely and intensely for a long time may delight in and greatly profit from an opportunity, perhaps six months after leaving office, to reunite for a day or a weekend. Each one, in turn, can reflect about the experience of the last few months and the challenges of transition, some of which only other for-mer team members can appreciate. Questions such as the l~eview for Religious following can prompt reflections which will be personal for each one and yet have some common elements: What has this transition been like? What has been the best part of moving out of leader-ship or, in the case of those who have continued to serve, what has been the best part of working with a brand new team? What has been challenging, for example, in ministry, community, prayer, recalibrating relationships, a different pace, not traveling, not knowing what is going on or, for someone who has joined the new team, knowing more than the rest of the team? What do I anticipate in the months ahead that may be important to name? Is there wisdom to share or to seek from the group? Where is God in all of this? Who is God in all of this? As each one speaks, others respond, question, affirm, and challenge, but mostly they listen with the ears of the heart and with the empathy borne of the deep bonds which close collaboration has forged. In the course of this conversation, the team is transformed into a group of friends whose support and affection will remain strong despite time and distance. The Importance of Ritual. There is a wonderful piece of wisdom in Herb Gardner's play A Thousand Clowns. One of the characters, Murray, says "You've got to know what day it is. You've got to own your days and name them, or else the years go right by, and none of them belongs to you.-3 Good ritual is what helps us "own our days and name them." Well-planned ritual brings to public expression the experience of the community and its members. All of the day-long conversations described above, for example, were framed 65.4 2006 Hughes * On Leaving Office Gracefully by ritual prayer, music, silence, breaking of bread, and blessing. How much more important it is to mark the transi-tion of leadership in the life of the whole community by a ritual adequate to the weight of the moment. Good preaching explores the Scriptures which have been cho-sen to illuminate the experience and the hopes of those gathered. The service of the outgoing leadership team is acknowledged with gratitude, and the future of each member is entrusted to God in prayer. The incoming leaders are blessed and publicly given the authority under the constitutions of the order for the exercise of their ministry. And the whole assembly commits itself to active participation in the governance of the community by say-ing its "Amen." Through strong ritual the leadership transition is accomplished. Transition is not just a private moment for the two teams involved, but an opportunity for all to deepen the bonds of their membership, to recom-mit themselves to their deepest call: The word "Amen" makes demands. When we express it at a time of leader-ship transition, we are making a series of promises: "Yes," we say, "so be it." "Yes, with God's help I will support and sustain this new leadership team with love and prayer." "And, yes, I accept my own responsibility, which I can-not surrender to others and which no one can take from me, of living the charism and mission of this community fully and actively." Thus is the community itself renewed in a grace-full transition. Notes ~ Two notable exceptions in the United States are "Transitioning from Leadership," a program offered by Lynn M. Levo CSJ through the Saint Luke Institute, Silver Spring, Maryland, and "Life after Elected Leadership: The Journey Continues," a workshop facilitated by Review for Religious Bette Moslander CSJ and Marcia Allen CSJ at Manna House of Prayer, Concordia, Kansas. 2 Psalm 103:1-5. The English translation is from the Liturgical Psalter; ©1994, International Commission on English in the Liturgy (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995). 3 Herb Gardner, "A Thousand Clowns," in The Collected Plays (New York: Applause, 2000). 4 Geographical distance need not be an obstacle. It is possible to have a teleconference on the day of the ceremony, uniting the "Amen" of far-flung members to the prayer of those physically present. Autumn Poppies Brilliant Resilient At end of summer California poppies On spindly stems Shine from shelter Of overhanging rock. Each morning they unfold. What ore produced such gold? Ore from the distant sun? Did that more distant One - The ever-near, Forge it here In the heart of the planet? Through the earth's opaqueness Malting Beauty visible Poppies like bright eyes Give us sight For the Invisible Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ 6~.4 2006 THOMAS G. CASEY Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Tis is not an era for dumb disciples or witless .1. Christians. Hmnan beings are crying out for intel-ligence and wisdom. Certainly our world needs Christians who reach out in love to the poor, sharing material pos-sessions in lives of love. But it also needs Christians who lovingly share their intellectual gifts, their treasures of wisdom. Western culture suffers intellectual malnu-trition. It needs to supplement its diet with intelligent Christianity. With our intelligence we seek to know the truth about things. Wisdom takes intelligence a step further, for wis-dom is not book knowledge, but practical knowledge. Wisdom integrates knowledge into decision making and behavior. In order to attain wisdom, our lives need to focus on the good. Intelligence and Wisdom, Readiness and Ripeness In Hamlet and King Lear, William Shakespeare puts the words "readiness" and "ripeness" into the mouths of Thomas G. Casey SJ, from Ireland, is professor of philosophy at the Pontifical Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta, 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious characters faced with death. Hamlet says "The readiness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). In Lea,; Edgar says, "Ripeness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). Readiness tends to be something active, something we produce through our own efforts. Ripeness is something organic, something that occurs according to its own rhythm, independently of our efforts. Unlike Shakespeare, I prefer to apply these phrases to life rather than death. I see readiness as our contribution to dis-cipleship through our intellects. Ripeness (maturation) is that wonderful moment when the fruit (peach or plum) is at its best, giving what it has received, even at the risk of falling. In the First Letter of Peter, a couple of verses deal explicitly with the spiritual ripeness and intellectual readiness of disciples. These verses are addressed to all Christians, including those facing opposition and ridicule. Peter warns that persecution is a real possibility: "Do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, but sane-tify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always ready to give an answer to anyone who asks you the reason or your hope, yet with gentleness and reverence" (1 P 3:14-15). I see ripeness as related to spirituality and readiness as related to study. In order not to be intimidated by any sort of persecution, we need to "sanctify Christ," rever-ing him and acknowledging him as Lord of our lives. The spiritual is not simply first chronologically, but also first in importance. We must give God priority in our hearts. First comes communion with God and then communication with others. Indeed if we put God first, our lives will inevitably provoke questions from others. They will notice something different about us, and they will inquire about it. Peter seems to imply study. He says we must be ready to give an answer: In order to give an answer, we need to know the answer first. There is no way around the hard work of wrestling with texts and grappling with ideas. It is an answer about the hope in 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship our hearts, our trust that things will work out despite the difficulties, our conviction that there is more to life than our limited temporal existence--although we do not yet see what we hope for, we know it is possible and attain-able. The source of Christian hope is the goodness and love of God, Because Of God's faithful love, we know that the future is full of promise. Peter says we need to explain our faith "to anyone who asks." Different kinds of people will have different kinds of questions. Obviously those who are sympathetic to the hope in our hearts will be easier to answer. But it takes much more careful preparation to know what to say to skeptics and those downright hostile to our worldview. Peter does tell us how to answer: with gentleness and rever-ence. We are to present the truth in love. We do this, not to win arguments, but to win people. The strength of our convictions is to be communicated with tact and respect. Readiness and ripeness are vital, but ripeness has priority. Ripeness refers to who we are, to the gift of God that comes through communion with him, to grace. Communion with God gives unity to our intellectual powers. It is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our rela-tionship with Jesus. We need exemplars. We all benefit from the exam-ple of individuals who put their intelligence at the ser-vice of humanity, whose actions and deeds match their intellectual ideals, who sacrifice themselves for the ideas that claim their allegiance. Of course, we cannot all be geniuses. It is, however, usually not desirable to imitate a person of genius either. Without a spirituality, genius easily loses its way. Readiness without ripeness is not enough. Even a genius of goodwill faces particular challenges and hurdles. Persons of extraordinary intelligence are so Review for Religious used to excelling without effort that they easily forget that this does not apply in daily life. Despite outstand-ing grades they may fail in the task of living. Another problem that can plague persons of extraordinary intel-ligence is their very versatility. They may end up dissipat-ing their energies through taking on too many projects. They do not become outstanding intellectuals simply by having a huge number of ideas. They need to direct the energy of their lives. A hyperdeveloped mind allied to an underdeveloped spirit and heart leads to disequilibrium and worse. The greatest exemplar of a sterling mind integrated in a fully human life of spiritual depth is none other than Jesus. Christians associate Jesus with perfect holi-ness. Many regard him as the paragon of wisdom, but few automatically associ-ate him with intellec-tual brilliance. This failure to see Jesus as a genius is under-standable inasmuch as he did not become a world-renowned academic or found a university or write a seminal book. He apparently never committed his thoughts to paper, and on the only known occasion he did write (Jn 8:6), it was in sand. The best way to dispel any doubts about Jesus' extraor-dinary mind is to read the Gospels attentively. The proof of Jesus' intelligence is especially to be found in his capac-ity to offer humanity something of universal value and his ability to resolve the fundamental problems of human existence.~ But it is also manifest in many other ways. °.~t is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our relationship with Jesus. 65.4 2006 Casey * Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Jesus did not !et his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle, The Greatest Exemplar Since he Was not only fully human but also fully divine, Jesus had an amazing intellect to start with. Second, what-ever form his education took it enhanced his intellectual giftedness and impressed his contemporaries. Luke's brief words about the twelve-,,ear-old Jesus in the temple at Jerusalem (Lk 2:42-50) show him listening to the doctors and questioning them. The child intrigues and fascinates these learned men. In fact, he surpasses them. And it is not simply his intellect, formidable though it is, that holds them in thrall. It is the paradox of such prophetic wisdom on the lips of a mere child. Undoubtedly Jesus' mind found nourishment in his communion with the Father. Perhaps Mary spoke to the child Jesus of her own faith and recited Scripture to him. In other words, he may have hid a human teacher as well as a divine teacher. Jesus did not let his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle. He cultivated them. According to Luke, he con-tinued to grow in wisdom (Lk 2:52). In other words, he grew in his ability to judge things rightly and to react appropriately. Thus he did not use his intellectual powers to accumulate useless facts or trivia. He saw the world truthfully and acted in accord with what he saw. Jesus' intensive prayer and fasting in the desert and the energy and zeal of his public ministry showed that his intellect was at the service of a noble cause. In order for genius to be productive, it must be impelled forward by guiding passion, by a strong motivating force, by the transfor-mative power of desire. Jesus was pressed forward by a consuming love. It was the drive to announce the Good Review for Religious News, to preach the reign of God, to free people from the slavery of sin. We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects. Without physical health and a reasonable level of emotional and moral equanimity, our ability to con-centrate properly, understand fully, and judge rightly is impeded. Since Jesus was without sin, his mind did not lose serenity. He never did wrong and never gave way to destructive emotional behavior. Thus his whole being supported the vision of his intellect. Jesus' way of thinking, as illustrated in the Gospels, displays a brilliant mind at work. Aristotle asserts in his Poetics and even more forcefully in his Rhetoric that the use of metaphors is a mark of great intelligence, some-thing that cannot be taught: "The most important thing is to be good at metaphor. This is the one thing that can-not be learned from someone else, and is a sign of natural talent; for the successful use of metaphors is a matter of perceiving similarities.''2 There is a tendency to think of metaphors as some-thing purely linguistic--a verbal ornamentation that is pretty, but apart from that, pretty ineffective. But a met-aphor such as "You are the salt of the earth" (Mr 5:13) is much more than a figure of speech. It challenges our taken-for-granted relationship with things, it uproots and dislocates us from our customary, understanding of ourselves. More than that, a metaphor enlarges and deepens our knowledge. We understand ourselves and our relatedness in a new way: "I am the vine and you are the branches" (Jn 15:5). Jesus' metaphors--salt, light, bread, sheep, and so on--take us beyond ourselves, toward transcendence. Even though they are made of sensible and tangible realities, they simultaneously lift us up into the realm of the spirit: "I am the bread of life" (In 6:35). Making connections .among disparate 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 360[ realities, Jesus' metaphors put a fragmented world back together. In John's chapter 15, Jesus speaks of his Father's "house" and of its "many rooms." With the familiarity of these words, Jesus lifts the veil on the afterlife, bring-ing domesticity into the unlimited horizons of the infi-nite. While not denying the difference between earthly life and paradise, Jesus shows that there must be echoes and resemblances. Metaphors galvanize the imagination, inviting us to think differently, and even to act in ways that once seemed impossible. They are the best way, and possibly the sole way, of talking about what is new. They give the imagination liberating and productive space. But even when he is not using metaphors, Jesus helps people in their thinking and action. In the Beatitudes, Jesus proclaims unexpected joys, the kind to be found in the simplicity, tears, gentleness, mercy, purity, peace, and suffering of saints. He helps his hearers think deep thoughts by starting from what they know, from what is familiar to them. In Matthew's chapter 7 he talks of how earthly fathers would not dream of giving a stone to their sons asking for bread, or offering a snake when they ask for fish. After emphasizing this point, Jesus points out that God, being perfect, will be infinitely more likely to answer our requests than human fathers are. A wise person knows how and when to pose ques-tions. Jesus' questions often invite his hearers to recog-nize and follow desires they may not have realized they had. The first question Jesus asks in the Gospel of John is: "What do you desire?" (Jn 1:38). And a related ques-tion appears four Limes in the synoptic Gospels: "What do you want me to do for you?" (Mt 20:32, Mk 10:36 and 10:51, Lk 18:41). Jesus also has a strong logical mind. In Luke 13:10- 16, a synagogue ruler becomes indignant when Jesus heals Review for Religious a woman on the Sabbath. Although she has been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years, the synagogue leader is adamant that this healing should have been done on a working day. Jesus counters by pointing out that nobody has any scruples about untying their ox or donkey on the Sabbath and bringing it out to give it water. The beast has not been thirsty for eighteen years, and the woman, "a daughter of Abraham," has felt a greater thirst over the course of many Sabbaths. Jesus sees even a bigger picture than this. The central theme of Jesus' preaching, the kingdom of God (today one could perhaps say "the dream of God"), is already mysteri-ously present in all the small-scale events and happenings of our daily lives. Jesus intuitively grasps a grand meaning in the tiny mustard seed becoming a large shrub. The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, the supreme truth. Intelligence tends toward the truth. The intelligence of Jesus is perfectly pitched to this goal, for he constantly proclaims the kingdom of God. His mind is con-stantly directed toward the revelation or manifes-tation of God. Although God's kingdom is already ~ breaking into the present,Jesus sees that its full realiza-tion is in the future. When the seventy disciples return from preaching, intoxicated with the success of their ven-ture, Jesus says that what should really give them cause to rejoice is the reality that their names are written in heaven (Lk 10:20). Jesus adapts his words to the various people he is dealing with. It is not that he changes the content of his The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, ;the supreme truth. 3,61 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 362' message, but that he pays attention to his interlocutors, and seeks to speak in a way that makes sense to them. He uses many agrarian images and metaphors because he spends so much time talking to people who live and work on the land. But when he is questioned by the Roman procurator Pilate before his crucifixion, Jesus speaks of authority and truth, issues that concern Pilate. Jesus is wise enough to know the limits of intelli-gence. When confronted by the powerful but demonic intelligence of Satan toward the end of his forty-day fast in the desert, Jesus knows that only God's word is strong enough to defeat the Adversary's clever arguments. And so the Word of God quotes from God's word, the Holy Scriptures, and defeats Satan. Ripening To become wise and intelligent disciples, we need to imitate Jesus--not external imitation, but conforming our minds and hearts to Jesus. From this interior mirroring, our external words and deeds will naturally reflect Jesus. A few years ago, the WWJD bracelet--"What would Jesus do?"--became a fad. Such a bracelet certainly points people in a helpful direction. But of ourselves we are not always capable of knowing what Jesus would do. The responses are not written on our wrists. The answers are to be found by meditating and pondering on what Jesus did in fact do. We have looked at some examples of his wisdom and intelligence in action. We need to meditate on such examples, pray over them. The full ripeness of Jesus' wisdom needs to be tasted and appreciated with our spiritual senses. There is a clue to how to do this in the Greek verb menein, frequent in John's Gospel and having a range of meanings: to stay, remain, dwell, abide, last, endure, live. This word applies in a special way to John, because Review for Religious John has great staying power: he stays by Jesus' side, the only one of the twelve present at the cross. It is no acci-dent that John is right next to Jesus at the Last Supper, because John is humanly and spiritually especially close to Jesus. John remains, John abides. To understand this word "remain" better, it helps to turn to the first chapter of John's Gospel. When Andrew and an unnamed disciple start to follow Jesus, he turns and asks them, "What do you want?" These are the first recorded words of Jesus in John's Gospel, in the form of a question, a question that is interested and inviting, pro-found and personal. The two disciples answer Jesus with another question. They ask, "Where do you dwell?" This is not just a geographical question but a deeper, more spiritual one. The disciples have just left John the Baptist. They want something lasting, something that endures, a center that can hold. Different forms of the verb menein appear in chapter 15 of John. Jesus is unraveling implications of the vine and the branches. Jesus points out that trying to improve ourselves and be morally perfect is not what is essential. What is essential is to be in a living relationship with God, to dwell with him, to stay with him, to love him. We do not need to worry about bearing fruit: he will take care of our fruitfulness. We surrender ourselves to him as Lord of our lives, and we stay with him in community with others. We move beyond intelligence to wisdom, beyond rules to love. Communion with Jesus adds ripeness to our readiness and gives our lives unsuspected fruit. Notes ~ This view of intelligence is broadly in line with the stance of the distinguished educational thinker Howard Gardner, well known for his theory of multiple intelligences. According to Gardner, intelligence has to involve some form of productivity, and thus high IQ is itself not suf-ficient. Gardner defines intelligence thus: "Intelligence is a biopsycho- 363 6~.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship logical potential to process information that can be activated in a cultural setting to solve problems or create products that are of value in a culture." Howard Gardner, Intelligence Refrained: Multiple Intelligences for the 21st Century (New York: Basic Books, 1999), p. 34. 2 Aristotle, Poetics, translated with an introduction and notes by Malcolm Heath (London: Penguin Books, 1996), p. 37. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 1. "We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects." (p. 359) From my experience, can I give some examples of this kind of thinking? 2. a) What is the evidence I seek when I describe a person as wise? b) If I were to describe Jesus as a wise person, what examples of his wisdom would I cite from the Gospels? 364 Review for Religious ANDREW RYDER The Bible and the Lectionary During my time as a parish priest in Scotland, I became friendly with the local Protestant min-ister. Our two churches were built opposite each other. One day I showed him the Catholic lec-tionary we used at Mass. He was most impressed, and even thought of using it himself. Instead of going for six months giving his congrega-tion a weekly commentary on the Letter to the Romans, he could use the Catholic lectionary's systematic arrangement of short texts from both the Old and New Testaments, which he consid-ered well tailored to the needs and aptitude of Christians today. My colleague's reaction to our lectionary brought home to me yet again that it is one of the most valuable and enduring liturgical changes introduced by the Second Vatican Council. The Sunday and weekday readings from the lection- Andrew Ryder scJ recently wrote on the Holy Spirit's leading in four holy lives. His address remains St Joseph's Centre; Tilston Road, Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; England. appreciating the word 65°4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 366 ary have put the word of God within the earshot of many Catholics who might never open a Bible, let alone buy one. The three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels provide a simple and comprehensive introduction to the Scriptures. The Vatican Council did not, of course, invent the lectionary. That misconception could prevent us from seeing the full significance of the lectionary in the life of the parish. The lectionary is not a latter-day insertion of certain biblical texts into our sacramental celebrations. Long before there was any Bible in the modern sense of the word, the lectionary was the ordinary means by which the faithful came in contact with God's word. The early Christians did not have Bibles. Their knowledge came from hearing the sacred text read out during their community gatherings. By such listening, the first gen-erations of the church were being faithful to their Jewish roots. Regular proclamation of the Scriptures had begun long before the Christian era. The origin of our present lectionary goes back to Old Testament times. The Synagogue Liturgy Old Testament books attributed to authors such as Moses (the first five books of the Bible--the Pentateuch), Amos, and Isaiah were, in fact, produced posthumously and often at a much later date. After a number of revi-sions, the final text was put together by editors (also called redactors), who were not producing books for dis-tribution among the people but were preparing material for community use.* While many of the individual books have a much older origin, the present canonical form of the Old Testament was the result of editing that lasted from the fifth to the second century B.C. The material as a whole Review for Religious was "the product of a temple-based community living in and around Jerusalem.''2 The definitive written form comprised of legal material (the Torah), the works of the prophets (including the books of Joshua and Samuel), and the "writings" (Psalms and the wisdom literature).3 The three groups of - books make up the Holy Scriptures of the Hebrew Bible. These Biblia (books) were revered as the word of God and were studied and read aloud in wor-ship. Independently .i of the temple, wor-ship through the word gradually took pride of place in the - ~ synagogue. Here people met on certain days for public services, without having a sacrificial liturgy.4 The precise origin of the synagogues is not clear. The general theory is that such meeting places came into being during the Babylonian Exile, as a substitute for the temple services. They were buildings constructed, not for sacrifice, but for prayer and the reading of the word of God. A fixed form of prayer was one of the inno-vations of the synagogue, and the buildings came to be called "houses of prayer." Synagogues also served as local community centers for the scattered Jewish people of the Diaspora and were pivotal in Jewish life. Though used also for political and social purposes, their primary pur-pose was spiritual and educational.5 Reading and study of the Scriptures took place on the Sabbath and feast days. There is evidence of two inde- By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a communal reading :and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish: practice. 367 65.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 68] pendent cycles of readings, an annual and a triennial. The annual cycle is associated with the Jewish community in Babylon. A three-year cycle, with shorter readings, seems to have been the practice in Palestine. By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a commu-nal reading and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish practice. This service was quite distinct from temple worship and also from anything that existed in contemporary pagan religions. "It was a unique liturgi: cal feature in the ancient world; no such form of worship was known in paganism.''6 In the synagogue service the reading of the Torah was followed by a translation of the Hebrew text into the vernacular (a targum) and further instruction (the sermon). Philo of Alexandria, the lst-century commen-tator on Jewish religious practice, gives a description of communal Sabbath observance in his native city, focus-ing on the exposition of the Torah: "It was customary on every day when opportunity offered, and preeminently on the seventh day, as I have explained above, to pursue the study of wisdom with the ruler expounding and instruct-ing the people what they should say and do, while they received edification and betterment in moral principles and conduct.''7 Philo goes on to say that such instruction could last the whole day. As well as the temple and the synagogue liturgies, family celebrations such as the Passover were also cru-cial for the Jewish religion. Recitation of the Shema (Dt 6:4) and the singing of psalms became an integral part of these festive gatherings, as we see in the Last Supper meal of Jesus with his apostles. Yet, though family mem-bers memorized parts at least of the psalms for such celebrations, the regular contact of the practicing Jew with the word of God was through attendance at Sabbath worship in the synagogue. Review for Religious Jesus chose to begin his public ministry in the syna-gogue of Nazareth (Lk 4:16-30). By his time the scrolls containing readings from the Law and the Prophets were a treasured part of liturgical equipment. Jesus was brought up listening to the word of God when he went for wor-ship with his family,s Hearing the cycle of readings pro-claimed on the Sabbath was how he became acquainted with "the Scriptures" (Lk 24:27). The New Testament At the very beginning, like the rest of the Jews, the followers of Jesus listened to the word of God in the synagogue, as well as joining in the recitation of the Psalms during temple worship (Ac 2:46). But, towards the end of the 1st century, having been expelled from the Jewish synagogues, the Christian communities held their own celebrations in halls or large family residences (1 Co 11:17-22). Remains of these early "house churches" still exist in Rome. A little before 50 A.D., Paul sent the converts he had been instructing in Thessalonika a short letter with some further explanations of his teaching. The newly founded church faithfully preserved it for public use. Paul con-tinued to write similar epistles to encourage and educate other groups of converts. These letters circulated among the fledgling communities and were read out when they assembled.9 About fifteen years later, Mark had the idea of put-ting the stories about Jesus into a continuous narrative, giving Christians their first Gospel. So, as well as "the Scriptures," there could now be readings from Paul and Mark at Christian gatherings. Twenty years on, Matthew's Gospel appeared, probably with liturgical use directly in mind,'° linking the life and teaching of Jesus more closely to his Old Testament roots. At about the same time, 369 6.~.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary Luke set himself the task of writing a full account of the Christian message and added a second volume, the Acts of the Apostles, to bring the Christian story up to date. Though the work of the final redactors is not so clearly marked, editing can also be detected in the com-pilation of the Gospels and the other readings that even-tually became known as the New Testament. The fourth Gospel gives us the best example of revision (the two end-ings 20:30 and 21:25). John also shows how the Gospel narrative could be linked to the liturgy: "The emphasis on feasts as the occasion and indeed subject matter of Jesus' discourses is underlined by the evangelist in chap-ters 5-10.''1~ The Catholic Lectionary As Christians of the 21st century, we do not study the word of God in a vacuum, but as members of a com-munity; and, while as Catholics we do not claim any particular method of biblical interpretation as our own, we do see the Scriptures firmly placed within the living tradition of the church. In particular, our reading of the Bible is closely linked to the celebration of the liturgy. The Pontifical Biblical Commission makes the point clearly: "From the earliest days of the church, the read-ing of Scripture has been an integral part of the Christian liturgy, an inheritance to some extent from the liturgy of the Synagogue . In principle, the liturgy, and espe-cially the sacramental liturgy, the high point of which is the Eucharistic celebration, brings about the most perfect actualization of the biblical texts, for the liturgy places the proclamation in the midst of the community of believers, gathered around Christ so as to draw near to God.''~2 Though it should lead to personal conversion, the word of God is not in the first place a private message. A true understanding of the biblical texts (working from Review for Religious and always respecting their literal meaning) sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. "The word of God endures forever." At least in theory the Scriptures have always sustained the church. Today the lectionary offers pastors a marvel-ous tool for the proc-lamation of the word of God to the people of God. Whether at the Eucharist or other liturgical functions, homilies should explain and give contemporary relevance to the mes-sage that has been pro-claimed by the readers. This requires study and serious preparation. With all the developments of recent years in the under-standing of the Bible, it is vital that Christian leaders avail of the opportunities for updating that come their way. ,3 Here I make a plea for greater attention to the Old Testament. The greatest of Christian biblical scholars, St. Jerome, once said that ignorance of the Scriptures is not to know Christ. We can add that ignorance of the Old Testament is not to know the Father of Jesus Christ. Everything that Jesus says about the Father in the Gospels can be interpreted as the fruit of his medita-tion on "the Scriptures." Even his parable of the Prodigal Son, with its beautiful perception of the mercy and love of God, can be traced back to such prophetical utterances as Hosea 11:1-9.14 '. A true understanding of the biblical texts sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. I371 65.4 2006 Ryder * The Bible and the Lectionary 372 There is a profound unity between the Old and the New Testaments. Yet we often come across the percep-tion that the former is not only old, but also out of date, irrelevant to the church of the third millennium. The Old Testament is the work of ancient masters, teachers who have left us a spiritual legacy of unsurpassed wisdom. Like old wine, this legacy continues to mature and with age becomes ever more potent. The Old Testament covers a thousand years' history of the people of God, while the New Testament spans a period of little more than half a century. Furthermore, the first fifty years of Christianity were a golden age, a time of marvelous growth and expansion throughout the world. The Old Testament, on the other hand, records the fail-ures as well as the successes, the lows as well as the highs, of the people of God. From that point of view, those who are suffering now because of their faith can gain consola-tion from "the loving fidelity" (hesed) of Yahweh, recorded so dramatically in the pages of the Old Testament. Attentiveness to the Word Vatican II describes the liturgy as both the source and the summit of Christian spirituality. The liturgy is the prayer of the church, the Christian community at its most authentic, giving power to every other activity of the peo-ple of God. But we need strategies to help the participants profit by the riches that are available. Over the years I have encouraged people to invest in small personal copies of the lectionary. Pondering the texts proposed by the lec-tionary for the various liturgical seasons is an excellent way of "thinking with the Church." Reflecting on the readings before the celebration can give the actual proclamation a greater impact and deeper personal significance. The following words from the Congregation for Divine Worship's "Suggestions and Proposals" for the Review for Religious Year of the Eucharist (2005) provide a fitting sum-mary of what has been said: "After reading from Sacred Scripture, the expression 'The word of the Lord!' recalls the importance of what proceeds from the mouth of God, and makes us hear it not as something 'distant' from us, however inspired it may be, but as the living word by which God addresses us. We are in the context of a true 'dialogue' of God with his people, a dialogue in which the marvels of salvation are proclaimed to us, and the demands of the covenant continually reproposed. "The Liturgy of the Word is a constitutive part of the Eucharist. We gather together in the liturgical assembly to listen to what the Lord has to say to us--to each and every one of us. He speaks to us here and now, to those who lis-. ten to him with faith, believing that he alone has the words of eternal life, that his word is a lamp for our feet. "Attentiveness to the word spoken is at the beginning of the spiritual life. To believe in Christ is to listen to his word and put it into practice. It is docility to the voice of the Holy Spirit, the interior Master who guides us to the whole truth--not only to the truth to be known, but also to the truth to be lived out." Notes ~ There is plenty of evidence of later editing in the prophetical works of the Old Testament. The Book of Isaiah is a composition of at least three different authors, and only the first thirty-nine chapters are now attributed to Isaiah of Jerusalem. 2 E.E. Meyers and J.W. Rogerson, The Cambridge Companion to the Bible (Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 228. 3 The Psalter may well have been the first book of the Hebrew Bible. Psalms go back as far as the worship of the first temple (built, accord-ing to tradition, by King Solomon). It can be seen, from the headings accompanying many of the psalms, that they were attributed to Solomon's father, King David. Various psahns were used for the different feasts, especially the autumn festival of the covenant renewal. In all likelihood 373 6Y.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary there were psalms for different occasions, and what we have in the Psalter is a limited number of the most important ones. 4 Hans Kiing, Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1992), p. 108. 5 Roland de Vaux, Ancient Israel (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1961), p. 343. L.L. Grabbe claims a later starting point for syna-gogue worship in A History of the Jews and Judaism (New York: T & T Clark International, 2004), p. 237. 6 L.I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), p. 139. 7 Quoted in Levine, Ancient Synagogue, p. 145. 8 See J.P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus (New York: Doubleday, 1991). ~ Col 4:16. Even if Colossians is not an authentic Pauline letter, the exhortation to share the message with a neighboring church reflects an early practice. ~0 See J.P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew (New York: Paulist Press, 1979). ~1 Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John ed. F.J. Moloney (New York: Doubleday, 2003), p. 304. Of course, these are Jewish, not Christian feasts. Aileen Guilding contended that the dis-courses of Jesus were closely related to the readings in the synagogues on those feasts. The Fourth Gospel and Jewish Worship (Oxford: Clarendon, 1960). The present Catholic lectionary makes ample use of John in the baptismal catecheses of the Lenten Gospels. ~2 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, 1993, C1. 13 Though proclaiming the word of God is a primary duty of the liturgical celebrant, recent data show that the Catholic Church has cause for concern. Two studies commissioned by Andrew Greeley and quoted in his Priests: A Calling in Crisis, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004, p. 116) indicate that Catholics do not rate their clergy highly in preaching and leadership in worship. Worse still, according to Greeley, priests themselves do not seem aware of the problem, and their failure to communicate the word of God is one of the reasons why people are leav-ing the church. Even if Greeley's research was conducted in the U.S.A., I am sure it is representative of the clergy in other parts of the world. ,4 The New Testament writers drew their "theology" (teaching on God) from the Old Testament. After his conversion Paul changed his view of Jesus, recognizing him as the Promised One. But his belief in "the God of the Fathers," built up through meditation on the biblical word of the Old Testament, remained the bedrock of his preaching on divine providence. His moral instruction, too, presumes the ethical teachings of the Hebrew Bible. Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation ~fihnaalt lIi scta ollf tphher caosedsa dtoe stchrei bAinpgo sfdoeusr' mCarejoerd dios cit-s trines: "the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." Experienced people can especially appreciate these great doctrines because they address our deepest human concerns, namely, existential loneliness, personal guilt, physical mortality, and our insatiably infi-nite longings. In other words, we are given four basic doctrines that bring our spirits hope in the face of the most oppressive psychological burdens, namely, guilt, loneliness, mortality, and longing. Our Physical Mortality Perhaps the heaviest of these burdens is the realiza-tion of our inevitable death, though for some of us it is the load of guilt we carry, consciously or unconsciously. Brendan Kneale FSC wrote for us earlier this year. His address is De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation 376 For many people it is a sense of aloneness. Overlying this we have a deep, and necessarily unrequited, appetite for the infinite, a conscious or unconscious longing. One of the worst parts of "the human predicament" is the inevitability of our eventually dying--what Zechariah calls living in "the darkness of the shadow of death." But Zechariah says that, in addition to a promise of liberation from this "shadow of death," Christ brings "knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of sins," making us "free to worship him without fear." No human being, regardless of how fortunate in matters of health or wealth or domestic comfort, is free of impending death and occasional realizations of that inevitability. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews mentions this terror in chapter 2. He speaks of the "fear of death which keeps us in slavery all our lives." And we recall the emotional passages in some of the Psalms about the burden of death, Psalm 90 for example, along with poignant words from Ecclesiastes. So in the Apostles' Creed we affirm our conviction that there will be for us a "resurrection of the body and life everlasting." The trauma of our earthly death will be really a kind of "birth trauma." This doctrine may well be, in our day and age, the hardest to accept of all Christian teachings. At the same time it is one of the most attrac-tive. Some historians attribute the rapid spread of early Christianity to the news of Christ's bodily resurrection and to people's strong desire to participate in it. Our Guilt We also affirm at the end of the Creed our belief in "the forgiveness of s!ns," a doctrine of enormous consola-tion. On the face of it, our guilt is irremovable because offenses against God are against the Infinite and we are only finite. Recall Psalm 65 with its doublet: "Too heavy R~view for Religious for us our offenses; but you wipe them away." The heavi-ness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. Guilt is one of the most powerful forces in human behavior. It can accompany both a suspicion of our own culpability and a state of actual culpability. It entails, as the dictionary says, a felt need to repay or requite the persons offended. It is related to feelings of remorse and shame, an awareness and regret over our responsibility for evil. Psalm 65 notes, "We are overcome by our sins." Guilt can cast a shadow over a whole life. Nevertheless, we know it can be relieved, at least in part, by forgive-ness. We need to accept for-giveness as well as bestow it. If we try, instead, to wipe our own offense from our memo- The heaviness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. ries, the psychological damage may be difficult to assess. Pope St. Clement wrote that it is better to admit one's sins than to harden one's heart. Guilt can drive us to inflict grave harm on ourselves and on others. It can also drive us to do good things. Acquittal or forgiveness removes punishment, but it does not remove the historical fact of guilt. That fact keeps us grateful for forgiveness. Guilt seems different from shame in that it is internal while shame is more external, or per-haps one relates to offenses against God and his law while the other relates to offenses against society and its conven-tions. Shame and guilt sometimes overlap, and in a moral society would do so more frequently. A theological problem about forgiveness may occur to us in connection with Christ's telling the Good Thief on the cross, "This day you will be with me in paradise." It is 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation easy to see how Christ as a Divine Person could forgive the sins that Dismas committed against God, but it is not easy to see how Christ could forgive sins committed by a thief against his victims--and for Christ to do so without the victims' prior consent. One would think that such forgive-ness belongs also to the victims. Is Christ the spokesman of forgiveness for all victims of the sins of robbery even though he himself is not (or does not seem to be) one of the direct victims? In a parallel question, can Christ forgive the sins we commit against ourselves even if we do not? The answer has to be yes. But on what grounds must we say so? There are probably two or three ways here to try to answer the question. First, incarnational. Christ is not a mere human person; his personhood transcends all human per-sons, and he can speak for us all (just as in his two natures he can speak for human beings as well as for God). He is "the Son of Man" as well as one of the three Persons, so that he is not only our spokesman before God but also the spokesman to all people and for all people. Second, evangelical. Christ tied his gospel message intimately to the forgiveness that we must exercise toward one another. Insofar as his message is successful and insofar as we are with him, we forgive each other and leave vengeance (or the popular term "closure") to God. The Our Father, both in context and content, empha-sizes that point. Also, when in Mark 12:34 Christ praises the scribe, it is because he sees the intimate connection between love of God and love of neighbor. Third, eschatological. It seems that one of the main purposes of the Last Judgment is to demonstrate the justice of God. It is no doubt mysterious, but every thief, including the Good Thief, will have found that justice has been done for his victims, and the victims will find it so to. The word "trespass" in the Our Father is a good choice, since our sins are like trespassing on the rights of God. Review for Religious God is offended but not harmed by our sins. Of course, the reason why he is offended by our sins is that these sins do harm to us and often to our neighbors, all of whom God loves. Loving us, he does not want to see us or anyone else harmed. The adage "Love me, love my dog" can be extended to God's desire that all people love one another. Our Insatiable Longing Is there not at least a third affliction shared by all man-kind, namely, an appetite for more, feeling we can never have enough in this life? We want not only an immortal and guilt-free life, but we want it to be unencumbered in all respects, wholly and completely fulfilled. Thoreau's famous Walden aphorism has it that "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and Virgil wrote: Sunt lacrimae - rerum, et mentem mor-talia tangunt--there are the tears of things, and the realities of death bear on one's spirit. Paul gives a Christian slant to Virgil in Romans 8:21: "It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was unable to attain its purpose [that is, was subject to futility]; it was made so by God. But creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, and to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth--and not only creation but all of us." We frequently sense that we are hemmed in by our finite circumstances since we aspire to much more than We often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. 379 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation we have. In fact, we possess a capacity for the Infinite (whether we are aware of the Infinite or not). Our life-long dissatisfaction with having an ever greater number of good things in this life should make us aware of this capacity. We, though, often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. And nonbelievers may try to fulfill such deep aspirations by a life of the mind and an appreciation of the arts--which, after all, are finite too. It was popular a generation ago to refer to the con-ditions of our earthly life as "the human predicament" and to our life as one of "exile." A real pessimism envel-ops some people. The Rumanian-French aphorist E.M. Cioran drew this depressing conclusion: "Some people still wonder if life has a meaning. In fact it all comes down to knowing whether it is bearable." But the Creed promises that our reward is everlasting. All longings will be met, including the desire for meaning. Our Loneliness "The holy Catholic Church" and "the Communion of Saints." We are convinced that we are not alone. It is true that our uniqueness as individuals separates us from all other people. But, as St. Paul implies, the parts of one's body, the leg or the ear, are not individually lonely. When we as individu-als are fully incorporated in the Body of Christ, we will have found a cure for all loneliness, both existential and social. The Church Glorious will be sociable. At the beginning of the Creed, we are assured that God is not lonely: there are three Persons in God. That revela-tion is a source of great consolation, a consolation apparendy denied to Jews and Muslims (whose God is understood as very lonely). In the Christian vision, as Alfons Deeken SJ put it years ago, "God exists as a fellowship and friendship of three Divine Persons. In the Trinity each Person has his existence Review for Religious only in relation to the others, and it is only in existing for the others, in the process of infinite giving and receiving of love, that each One is fully himself. Self-being does not decrease through self-giving. Thus the Trinity, as the source and model of all personhood and community, shows us that the high-est perfection of a person is not self-assertion, isolation, and independence, but rather openness and loving commitment to others" (Growing Old, and How to Cope with It, Paulist Press, 1972). Prayer Suggestion There is a prayer tradition that we choose a prayer formula such as our Creed, and we find ourselves in God's presence as we dwell on individual words or phrases of the prayer formula. Where we find relish and consolation, we remain until we feel that we should move on to another word or phrase. Then, when we have come to the end of our prayer time, we simply pray through the whole Creed in the usual way. In the light of the reflection by Brendan Kneale FSC, we might use the last part of the Creed for our daily prayer in this fashion over some days. We might also use the whole text for our prayer in this way. 65.4 2006 ARMAND NIGRO God's Invitation 382 l~is something awesome. It verges on the incred-le, even the ridiculous. Mmighty God, Creator and Lord of the Universe, wants to be involved and commu-nicate with us. God invites us to spend time with Him, to realize He is truly our Abba, as He is for Jesus, and to taste and relish that relationship This is an invitation to faith, to wait on the Lord, believing that God will reveal Himself to us and share with us His gracious purposes. It is God's invitation to prayer. God Acts In Us If we are open to it, God directly acts in us, speaks to us in every created experience, especially in the sacred Word in Scripture. Every sensible reality, from raindrop to wild weed to human smile, is a partial revelation of God, a finite shape of God's creative love. Every word in Holy Scripture is a humanly conditioned word of God, ever alive, full of meaning and power for us. Armand Nigro SJ is retreat director and pastoral minister at Holy Spirit Center; 10980 Hillside Drive; Anchorage, Maska 99507. Review f~r Religious Take a serious look at this revelation in passages like Psalm 81, Isaiah 55, Hosea 2 and 11,Jeremiah 1, Matthew 11:25, and John 14 and 15. Listening To God This astounding revelation is not merely for our minds; it is a call for us to experience and live in it. But this will never take place unless we take time to listen to God, to savor God's word and let it soak into us. Unless we do this, we'll never really know God. The danger is not just that we not take time to listen to him, but that we may even ignore what we hear. "Don't harden your hearts," God pleads in Psalm 95. But why should God care at all? Let's face it, if I were God, the last thing I'd want to do is be bothered by peo-ple like me. "To hell with them if they won't listen! No skin off my nose if they behave themselves or not. They are just not worth troubling over, especially for a God who has infinitely better and more important things to think about." God's Answer God's answer to this is: "But you are not God. I am. And My thinking is not your thinking and my ways are not your ways (Isaiah 5 5). You are My son, My daughter. I want to be your Abba (Father and Mother to you). This is what I want. This is important to me. Won't you believe me? Won't you let me?" Incredible--absolutely incredible! 65.4 2006 SE!~q D. SAMMON Sexuality and Celibate Chastity: Friends Not Foes living chastely Priest and author Ronald Rolheiser tells of a curious young man finding himself seated next to a woman religious on a plane trip. He asks her a number of questions, mostly about celi-bate chastity. He remarks, "What intrigues me about you, Sister, is your obvious zest for life. Now imagine how much more satisfying that life would be if you also had sex." And her response? "What impresses me about you," she says, "is your sincerity and the fact that you are searching for love. But love and sex are not the same thing. Now imagine how much richer your life might be if you were open to that possibility." How easily people can amiably use mutually intelligi-ble words and not understand each other at all! The word sexuality encompasses much more than genital sex. It includes our way of being in the world as a man or woman, the attitudes and characteristics that we call masculine and Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes again from Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.E 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious feminine. The word and the reality remind us that we are social beings, that we need and desire friendship and affection. These are God-given ways to be holy. Sexual and spiritual energy should be friends and not foes. Both aim at union with God and others. Human sexuality has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. The human life cycle neatly outlines the discussion of sexuality and celibate chastity. Forming an identity and developing closer relationships are different for you and me at twenty than at forty-five. Twenty years later these opportunities and challenges are different again. Over a lifetime we change in our self-understanding, our knowledge of how the world works, our understanding of our faith in Jesus Christ and our way of living that faith. Why would we not also change in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity? Talking about intimacy, sexuality, and the vow of chas-tity is difficult. People lack effective words or a sense of comfort, and mutual understanding fails to occur. When asked why we chose a life of celibate chastity, we might answer, "For the sake of the kingdom; in order to love everyone and not just one person; to be more available." These answers are "not bad,".but they leave most of us and our listeners unsatisfied. When I use the phrase celiba{e chastity here, I will mean vowed chastity as it is lived within religious insti-tutes today. Celibate chastity is at the very heart of the way of life we call religious, it is not just an ascetical practice, though it may feel that way at times. And, while it is intimately related to our mission, it did not come into existence to make religious congregations' apostolic work more efficient. Celibate chastity is a defining char-acteristic of our way of life and needs to be seen as such. God has reached out to us in Jesus. Jesus has called us to 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Foreclosing ouf identity= sets thestage fqr later problems with.intimacy follow him. The relationship we have with him must be central to our lives. Have you ever asked yourself: "Where am I going in life?" "How am I using or wasting my talents?" "Does my presence in this religious community make any dif-ference at all--would I be missed if I were not here?" Such questions are related to both identity and intimacy, particularly challenging issues for young religious. They need to form a first or provisional identity as they move from their late teens to their late twenties. They need also to face questions of intimacy in their lives. Identity formation gets underway when we ask, "Who am I and what do I cherish or hold dear?" In answer-ing we move though three phases. First we explore our life ¯ options; next we see that we must choose one from among a variety of attractive possibilities; finally we must decide, com-mitting ourselves to a particular identity. Understandably, this process is influenced by culture and custom. The manner in which men and women approach it varies. Nevertheless, exploring options and making difficult choices are part of the life history of almost all who have achieved an identity instead of having one thrust upon them. Some among us foreclose identity. Overwhelmed by the number of options or lacking the wherewithal to succeed in one or another, we quicHy step into an identity that is ready-made, like a shirt that comes ready-made through the mail. We keep it whether it fits well or not. Foreclosing our identity sets the stage for later prob-lems with intimacy. There is hope, though, for, if we have Rt.vie~v for Religious not formed an identity early, we are given other oppor-tunities over the years. Times of transition give us new chances. At midlife, for example, certain reassessments about life can be made. Identity and Intimacy Why spend all this time discussing identity? Because of its relation to intimacy. This word has been defined too narrowly in the past. I suggest this description: Intimacy occurs when we are sure enough about ourselves as per-sons, are so much at home with ourselves, that we can risk closeness with someone else.~ During our early adulthood we are young in our understanding and experience of intimacy. Some would suggest that, while deep loving relationships are possible for young people, they are more the exception than the rule. For most of us mature intimacy is just not possible until later in life. Uncertainty and confusion often sur-round young adult sexuality, and the rich spirituality that lies at the heart of mature celibate chastity is often not available until the middle years. When men and women religious move through their early adult years, intimacy questions arise, and genital-sexuality questions as well. Today the media and a good many people see genital restraint as constricted and par-tial living that leads to a lonely life ahead. How, then, do we prepare those in formation for the challenges they will face? How do we help them grow into a celibate and chaste way of loving others? How do we help them understand, from our own experience, the joys and satis-factions of celibate chaste living? In their late twenties and early thirties some sisters, priests, and brothers fall in love for the first time. This experience, sometimes more infatuation than genuine intimacy, can be an important step toward building lov- 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity ing adult relationships with other men and women. This outcome can occur, ho.wever, only if they can talk about the relationship. Unfortunately these relationships often remain hidden, shrouded in secrecy. We all need some privacy in our relationships, but, if secrecy overshadows any of them, trouble usually lies ahead. You and I benefit from time together with friends and so does our community. It is natural to look forward to being with people whose very presence is life-giving for us. Religious life itself has always included caring relation-ships that grow over time. Witness the great friendships down through the centuries, friendships that flourished even when rules warned against them. The tendency of most of us is to share our friends with others. Secrecy in a relationship is something quite differ-ent and becomes an obstacle to mature celibate chastity. Secrecy robs people of the opportunity of getting advice from someone outside of the relationship, someone who can keep them honest about what is transpiring. All of us risk deluding ourselves about relationships, particu-larly those with romantic overtones. The decisions we make about them may be flawed. And in these matters people do make decisions. If two religious end up in bed together, they should not claim that angels carried them there. Rather, they need to admit that they made a series of decisions that led to this outcome. We need privacy for some relationships to grow, but we must also must set limits if we are to live with integrity. This is true not only in the lives of priests and religious, but in everyone's life, married or single. Living my life in keeping with the commitments that I made means that my love will not be expressed genitally, but in reality it may be no less intimate. In our sexuality as in so many other areas of our lives, we do well to remember that we are unfinished and incom- Review for Religiozts plete. In making prudent life choices about sexuality, we in turn make many other decisions. With midlife we become more aware that limits have been part of all our best choices. Friendship Any intimate relationship stretches one's identity. But is that not what needs to happen as we move through the stages of our life? We need to make ourselves known, risk our self-definition, and allow others to come close to us precisely so that we can - be known, influenced, and possibly changed as a result of the rela-tionship. Many situa-tions call for the risk of our self-understanding. Close friendships allow - ~ us to relax the stance which we usually assume when fac-ing the world and most other people. Friends reach a part of us that is inaccessible to others; they know us as others do not. Friends are not frightened by one another's weak-nesses, and so they feel free to share their fears, concerns, difficulties. As a consequence they learn to be more at home with themselves, their qualities, their preoccupa-tions. In community life people can risk self-definition, and most do. Some, however, stay on the fringes, moving in and out of the community's life but refusing to let other members have any claim on them. If a weekend activ-ity is planned, fringe members will encourage the others to make their plans, saying they will fit in if they can. Whereas for most of us absence from community activi-ties occurs from time to time, for fringe members it is a way of life. They have difficulty with intimacy; by not Any intimate relationship stretches one's i&ntity. 65.4 2006 Sam,non * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 390 allowing the group to come close to them, they avoid the "difficulty" of being changed by their presence. They protect their self-definition, and they perpetuate their isolation, living alone in the midst of the group. Their relationships fail to flourish. What they may point to as intimacy is often a pseudo-intimacy. The consequences of refusing to risk self-definition are grave. The persons deny themselves one of life's greatest gifts, the experience of friendship. Situations involving cooperation and competition can help us to stretch our self-understanding. Working together with others on a task, we become aware of per-sonal gifts and abilities not recognized previously. We may discover that we have skills that help a group com-plete an assigned task. Athletes have similar experiences. In difficult games they may discover unknown talents and learn endurance as they make an all-out effort to win. The experience of intimacy can be a help to prayer. A corollary is that people may apply their fear of human intimacy to God as well, keeping God at arm's length so that even God does not disturb supposedly well-thought-out plans. Such plans are far from the indifference sought in making a good discernment. Only when I am indiffer-ent am I free enough to appreciate what is in God's heart for me. If I pray regularly and enjoy intimacy with God, God's desire has a good chance of becoming my own, for my own benefit. Authentic discernment demands that I risk intimacy with God, talking over my mixed feelings, my fears, in a closeness that could change my self-defini-tion and my life. Do not, however, confuse self-disclosure with inti-macy itself. True intimacy includes caution and selectiv-ity. It is altogether different from telling one's life story in great detail to a total stranger at a social gathering-- something most of us back off from in embarrassment, Review for Religious excusing ourselves for a moment, with the hope that upon our return the person will be just as animatedly engaged with someone else. Real relationships take time. Some parts of ourselves, shared easily at the right time in a relationship, could not have been spoken about earlier. Though friends are people with whom you and I share confidences, they are much more than that. Over time a history develops between two friends. They prove themselves mutually dependable. Eventually they realize that they valued each other long before they ever thought of anything like an evaluation. Friendship between Men and Women Using but a few words, the psychologist Carol Gilligan has put into perspective the differences between men and women. "It all goes back, of course, to Adam and Eve," she says, "a story that shows, among other things, that if you make a woman out of a man, you are bound to get into trouble." When it comes to relationships, men and women have differences in style and expectation. In a number of cultures men learn early in life how to be part of a team. As they grow up, teamwork continues to be important for them both in work and play. The bonds that men develop, then, depend more on solidarity than self-disclosure. It is the things they do together that bind them. When they do not have those things to do, many men stop com-ing together. Among women, relationships are usually more important than anything they might do together. Women tend to value their friendships with other women especially for the emotional support and understanding they receive; they spend time together exploring their personal experience and inner world of meaning. Men tend to be uncomfortable when they sense that a woman friend wants them to reveal more about them- I391 65.4 2006 Sammon * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 392[ selves than they care to. Women tend to be disappointed that their male friends are not so forthcoming in emo-tional sharing as they would like them to be. Men and women, though, agree strongly on this: in cross-gender relationships, the issue of sex has to be resolved before the friendship can deepen. If a man and woman in a rela-tionship have a strong sexual attraction to one another and fail to talk about these feelings with someone else, trouble often lies ahead. Men and women, of course, differ also in other ways than we have mentioned, but friendships continue to flourish between them. With friends we do not have to be altogether consistent; we can think and feel differently on alternate days with little consequence. During periods of significant personal change, friends can and should be specially aware and considerate, not exaggerating per-sonal ideas of how things are "supposed to be." All people haveboth a masculine and a feminine side within their personalities. Every culture has its gender images, but rigid adherence to them can be quite prob-lematic, leading to distorted emotional development and difficulties with intimacy. Early in life most women are unaware of their masculine side, and the same can be said of most men and their feminine side. For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. This is true regardless of sexual orientation. During their twenties and thirties, men and women struggle with intimacy in different ways. A man often sees a danger in closeness, fearing it will limit his inde-pendence. He shies away. A woman is often apprehensive about separation. At this time in their lives, while men are having difficulty with closeness in a relationship, women are finding it hard to be separate and be their individual selves. A failure to integrate masculine and feminine sides Review for Religious gives rise to several consequences. A woman finding her masculine side threatening shies away from demonstrat-ing her natural competence in one area of life or another. A man fearing implications of his more intuitive feminine qualities gives the mes- - . sage that he is unavail-able for relationship. He can appear sulky, with-drawn, overly sensitive. Midlife is a good time for doing this work of integration. Increasingly aware that we have lived at least half of our earthly life already, we become less concerned about gender image and we grow in our ability for genu-ine closeness and in our self-knowledge and acceptance. Some aspects of ourselves defy greater self-knowl-edge. These shadow traits, often obvious to others, are hidden from us. When a man projects the positive quali-fies of his own feminine side onto a woman, she becomes highly desirable to him--the object of his fantasies and sexual longings. This situation becomes, in time, suffo-cating for a woman. As she develops her own personality in the relationship, she finds this same man now blaming her somehow for his unhappiness and negative moods. When a woman projects her unconscious masculine side onto a man, she overvalues him, seeing him as a hero and guide. Over time, however, she begins to see her earlier savior and guide as the source of all her feelings of belittlement and disappointment. Projection does little or nothing to foster mature intimacy. It fosters mutual fascination and infatuation, which can be important steps toward mature intimacy, For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity but relationships built on this foundation do not last. In such a relationship the persons are actually in love with themselves. 394 Sexual Orientation In any discussion about human sexuality and celibate chastity, we need to say a word about sexual orientation. There have always been, are now, and always will be homo-sexually oriented .men and women as members of religious congregations. Among this group are persons of exemplary celibate chastity; others have stretched the meaning of the vow of chastity beyond recognition. But the same can be said of their heterosexual brothers and sisters. I believe that some recent discussions about the area of sexual ori-entation have taken the wrong focus. Rather than empha-sizing people's heterosexuality or homosexuality, we would better direct our energies towards helping everyone called to religious life to live lives of celibate chastity. The area of sexual orientation is complex. There are many different approaches in discussing the matter. Some use the term "transitory homosexuality" to describe a sit-uation in which a person finds himself or herself sexually attracted to a member of the same sex but is not, in fact, homosexually oriented. If this is the case with a novice, what the formation personnel need is understanding and compassion. Others would contend that more than a few people, while defining themselves in the main as hetero-sexual or homosexual, find that their sexual feelings and fantasies are more accurately described as falling along a continuum. Formation personnel and other religious need to be at home with their own sexuality and orienta-tion and, of course, with their choice to live in a celibate chaste way. Of particular concern in recent years has been the abuse of male children at the hands of the clergy and Review for Religious male religious. There is no empirical evidence linking homosexuality with this behavior called pederasty. As tragic as sexual abuse is for all involved, wrong would not be righted nor children protected by policies based on the faulty notion that homosexuality and a predisposi-tion to abuse children are linked. Mention is sometimes made about the destructive effect that a gay subculture can have when it is present in a house of formation, a seminary, or a religious com-munity. Subcultures, be they sexual or otherwise, have no place in religious life. When they do emerge, however, it might be more profitable to seek the reason for their exis-tence rather than simply insist that they cease to exist. In consecrated life our primary identity must be our identity as religious persons. No other identities--family, intellectual, interpersonal, sexual--none of these nor any other can take precedence over our identity as religious persons. That identity more than anything else shapes our faith, our self-understanding, and our journey of self-transcendence. Spiritual Growth If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. For our celibate chastity, Jesus Christ must rest at the center of our lives. For that to happen, we must accept Jesus' love for us in a special way. The rela-tionship that each of us has with him and its pattern of development are unique. Everyone's spirituality must be tailor-made to reflect these realities. As religious all of us have been presented with formulas and plans of action that carry with them some guarantee of success in the spiritual life, but unfortunately those formulas and plans of action tend to ignore the unique relationship that we each have with Jesus. They may even get in the way. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 396 To ensure that our life with God is at the heart of our celibate chastity, we need be ready for spiritual awaken-ings, willing to explore the longings that are present in them. Spiritual awakenings may be like sexual awakening at the age of puberty. They may be startling or more gradual. Our desire for God grows. Finally we become vividly aware that God's love is given to us freely with no strings attached, without our having earned it. The idea of having to earn God's love is just out of the question. To be involved with Jesus Christ means embracing the paschal mystery. He asks us to imitate him, not admire him. When you and I dedicate our celibate lives to him, to closeness to him, we must realize that it includes suf-fering and death. Relationships do not just happen; they take time and effort. Throughout the ages spiritual writers have insisted that personal prayer is essential to a relationship with the Lord. For that bond to become strong, moments of prayer must eventually become regular and longer, ide-ally an hour each day. More than a few in religious life, however, will plead a lack of time. That claim rings true, because the activity.of some of us today borders on the pathological. It is the single greatest threat to our inte-rior life and leads only to greater self-preoccupation, an overemphasis on efficiency, and restlessness. Those who are overly busy are less likely to encounter Jesus in the marketplace of everyday life; they lack sufficient inte-riority. An obsession with efficiency leaves little room for spontaneity, for an openness to wonder. Restlessness, compulsively seeking one experience after another, inter-feres with developing a spirit of solitude, hospitality, and genuine prayer. By way of contrast, the fruits and gifts of the Holy Spirit are evident in the lives of those who pray regularly. Numbered among those fruits are charity, a spirit of joy, Review for Religious patience, forbearance, faith, and reverence for oneself and others. The gifts include wisdom, understanding, coun-sel, knowledge, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord. Are these fruits and gifts of the Spirit present in our lives? If not, we need to wonder about how seriously we take our relationship with Jesus Christ. We need to decide what we need to change in our lives in order to practice what we espouse publicly. Our Christian life, at its heart, is about a relationship with Jesus Christ. That relationship is the solution for my restiveness, the answer to my ques-tions, the source of my joy. There will always be people in our world who con-sider those who live our kind of life to be naive and foolish. And we are. Naive, because the choice does not follow social convention; foolish, because to embrace and live well a life of celibate chastity leads inevitably to a revolution of the heart. Bernard Lonergan SJ calls it "an otherworldly falling in love. It is total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications, reserva-tions." Living such a life bears great fruit. We discover the true meaning of passion, becoming more deeply spiri-tual and sexual at the same time. Over time we become more at home with ourselves and with God. For the per-son who embraces fully the challenge of a life of celibate chastity, the description "deeply spiritual and profoundly human" becomes eventually the only one that is apt. It tells the whole story. Let us pray that we have the cour-age to make it our own. References David Finkelhor and Associates. A Sourcebook on Child Sexual Abuse. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1986). Bernard Lonergan. Method in Theology. London: Herder and Herder, 1972. James Nelson. Intimate Connection: Male Sexvcafity and Mastwline Spiritualily. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988. 397 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Ronald Rolheiser. The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christhm Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. --. Forgotten among the Lilies. New York: Doubleday, 2005. Lillian Rubin. Intimate Strangers: Men and Women Together. New York: Harper and Row, 1983. --. Just Friends: The Role of Friendship in Our Lives. New York: Harper and Row, 1985. Sandra M. Schneiders. Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life. Mahwah: Paulist, 2001. Sean Sammon. An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity. Staten Island: Alba House, 1993. Sean Sammon. "Celibate Chastity: An Affair of the Heart." Pastoral Review, April 2001. John Sanford. Invisible Partners. Ramsey: Paulist, 1980. 398 Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. After reading Sammon's article, are we able to give a more adequate answer to the question, "Why do we choose a life of celibate chastity?" 2. Have we found that our experiences of intimacy with others has been a help in the fervor of our prayer life? 3. Let's explore the implications of this sentence: If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. Review for Rdigious ANNETTE M. PELLETIER "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? ~fohodi lceo sutartn adti nthge i nC laitnheo tloic g Uetn aiv ceurspi toyf ocfo fAfemee irnic tah,e a young woman student, noticing that I was a religious sister, tapped me on the shoulder and asked earnestly, "Sister, are there any other sisters on campus? Sisters are seldom seen these days. W-here are they?" I said, "Oh, yes, there are sisters on campus, both as professors and as students. You might not see them, but they are here." Some time later, another young woman student, the leader of the women's vocation discernment group, invited me to accompany them on their fall retreat, to talk with them about the meaning of "bride of Christ," and to say something on "the chastity bit." Her question jolted me. How long had it been since I had thought of myself as a "bride of Christ"? The other question encour-aged me. Young Catholic women are asking, "Where are 399 Annette M. Pelleder IHM wrote two articles for us a dozen years ago. Her address is Immaculate Heart Convent; 6600 Little Falls Road; Arlington, Virginia 22213. 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cl~rist" How curious that ~chastity,: maligned and misunderstood in contemporary ~ulture, is a virtue tha~t youth see and wonder abouL 4001 the sisters?" The tone seemed to say we are missed or at least missing. They are also wondering about that "chas-tity bit." Are Catholic religious women really "brides of Christ"? It seems to me that, at least on one campus in the United States, women university students are asking what it means for a Catholic woman to be consecrated to God as a religious sister. Could such interest or curiosity be a new sign in our times? Among religious women, post-Vatican II theologi-cal reflection on the identity and mission of the conse-crated life abounds. Vatican II's decrees Pe~fectae caritatis (1,5) and Lumen gentium (42) and, more recently, Pope John Paul's Vita con-secrata (3,4,5) situated the consecrated life at the heart of its mys-tery and mission, a gift from God to the church for the church. The International Congress on the Consecrated Life (Rome, 2004) por-trayed religious life in the postmodern era as a way of life imbued with a Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (Pauline Books and Media, 2005). Sandra Schneiders's trilogy, Religious Life in the New Millennium, examines the "qualitative dif-ference between questions religious ask today in compari-son with two decades ago. Selling All (vol. 2) retrieves and explores consecrated virginity as symbolic of the "unitive and transformative bond" between the Christian woman and Christ.4 In reference to the "chastity.bit," the body, as symbol that spea.ks its own "language," is the subject of theological reflection. Thus, the physical reality of the Review for Religious virginal body retains its place in our time as a timeless sign of the "kingdom come" and "coming" in every age and stage of history. Consecrated virginity has been and remains "exceptional gift of grace., a special symbol of heavenly benefits" (PC 12). How curious that chastity, maligned and misunderstood in contemporary culture, is a virtue that youth see and wonder about!6 Paradoxically, the youths' queries suggest that the way of life that is the "most perfect expression of the gospel on earth" (VC 18) has evolved into a symbol without a sign. Current theo-logical reflection digs deeply into the nature of symbol. Symbols implicitly convey meaning and affectively draw us into their world where relationships are effected. Certainly these youthful seekers' questions merit an answer. And what could be a more appropriate source for instruction and inspiration than the signs and symbols of the church's liturgical rites for this way of life? Relying on the ancient dictum lex orandi, lex credendi, lex agendi (as the church prays, the church believes and acts), we will examine how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" (here-after RPW) illuminate what it means to be a "bride of Christ.''1 The nuptial metaphor was applied to consecrated vir-ginity in the early church. Since apostolic times certain women freely dedicated their virginity to God, and the church "set her seal on this high vocation by. conse-crating those who followed it by a solemn prayer" (RPW ix). Gradually this public, solemn blessing was expanded and enriched with ritual gestures to more clearly manifest the meaning of a Christian woman's total commitment to Christ, the Bridegroom of the church. As the centuries passed, however, embellishments distorted, romanticized, or detracted from the original meaning of the rite. Vatican II's Sacrosanctum concilium occasioned the restoration of 401 65.4 2006 402 the splendor, dignity, and symbolism of the ancient "Rite of Consecration of Virgins" as well as the formulation of two distinct and separate rites, "Religious Profession of Men" and "Religious Profession of Women" (SC 9). Unlike the "Rite of Consecration of Virgins," the "Rite of Religious Profession" includes consecrated celi-bacy and poverty and obedience as well. We will restrict our focus to the meaning of nuptial metaphor (bride of Christ) in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women." Basic to this consideration is that the body itself is a sym-bol. The body merits attention as the place of sacramental encounter, "the place of symbolic convergence--through gestures, words, postures, . . . and silences" (Chauvet, 152)--for making us believers. The body means some-thing. What one does with one's body or what is done by others to the body has significance. The choice for consecrated chastity makes the body stand for a religious meaning. Body gender carries inherent meaning in human relationships, human personhood. Who were the "brides of Christ" in early Christianity? This article cannot do justice to the copious literature ancient Christian writers devoted to Christian women virgins. Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine used nuptial metaphors from Scripture in describing Christ and the church, the soul and God, and the Christian virgin and Christ. The Christian woman's choice to follow Christ by renouncing marriage, childbearing, and child rearing endowed her with a new status in the ecclesial community. As "bride of Christ" she could be no one else's bride. The permanent state of virginity has been seen as a life "more blessed than the martyrs," and "a fleck of divine gloW in a dark world." The virgin was honored by the commu-nity as uniquely holy and pure "the way God is holy and Review for Religious pure." Christian virgins--not unique in the practice of virginity in the ancient world--were unique in embodying a permanent state of exclusive dedication to Christ. Virginity of this nature was unknown in antiquity. It was seen in the Roman Empire with suspicion and con-sidered a threat to both the family and the state. Christian virgins testified to their chosen state in life "with such passion that they were ready to die rather than renounce it" (Schneiders, 183). In fact, the women's choice of vir-ginity was a radical act of personal autonomy rare during this period in history. The nuptial metaphor was a par-ticularly effective declaration of a unique and influential status. These women were exempt from the social norm of being married to a husband "because they were already married--to Christ" (Schneiders, 183). The bridal meta-phor expressed the ultimate form of discipleship practiced by women. What was their role in the Christian community? Christian women virgins, then, had a highly sym-bolic presence and endowed an ecclesial community with a certain prestige. The sacredness of the human body bridged this world and the next. As the Roman Empire began to crumble, Christian virgins exemplified "conti-nuity in its most pure state" (Brown, 271), a certainty of the reality of the heavenly kingdom come. This distinct embodiment of a relationship with Christ witnessed to the certainty of eternal salvation in an uncertain world. The virgin's espousal to Christ was an embodied sacrality. The church's official recognition of this state of life abrogated the paterfamilias right and duty to arrange (or oblige) a daughter's marriage. This new and unique state of life testified eloquently to a spiritual intimacy with Jesus the Lord. Local churches welcomed them and honored a way of life eloquently embodying the holiness of God. 403 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Gbri~t" 404 Liturgical rites acknowledged their consecration to God as bride of Christ. Christian women who responded to this form of dis-cipleship were solemnly blessed by the bishop. Depictions of the "veiling of virgins" inscribed in the Roman cata-combs indicate that a blessing ritual designated the new status of a Christian woman now publicly recognized as a bride of Christ. Borrowing from Roman marriage customs, the bishop solemnly veiled the virgin in the assembly of Christians in the local church. Henceforth the bishop would be her special protector. The words of the episcopal blessing and the act of veiling conveyed the meaning of the ineffable mystery of bodily consecration to God. This was a singularly significant event for Christian communities immersed in the uncertainties of the declin-ing empire. To Christians the virgin's body heralded the future status of all the disciples of Christ who awaited a new heaven and earth where men and women "neither marry nor are given in marriage" (Lk 20:35). Christian virgins embodied the hope that "the things of the resur-rection stand at the door." Gradually the varying rites were compiled and pre-served in the Roman Pontifical. As the historical con-texts changed, consecrated virgins left their families and formed small communities of women. These evolved into monasteries and more recently into mobile apostolic reli-gious congregations. Consequently the theological rich-ness of the rite was obscured by romantic embellishments depending on the cultural context and ethos of the reli-gious congregation. So the revision of the Roman Ritual mandated by Vatican II occasioned the restoration of the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" and the cre-ation of two others, the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" and another for men (SC 80). These two new rites were to manifest a "more mature theology of the Review for l~eligious religious life and its connection to the mystery of Christ and the church." "Bride of Christ": A Timely Sign in Signless Times? How, then, does the "Rite of Religious Profession" incorporate nuptial imagery and remain linked to the ancient origins of the consecrated life? How does the new rite express the ineffable mystery of a bridal bond to God that surpasses maternity, paternity, friendship, and even discipleship? According to Schneiders (192), nuptial spirituality remedies "the ontological inequality" between the divine Jesus and the human virgin. "One of the most striking, not startling features of nuptial spirituality is the sense of equality with Jesus that the mystics express" (103). John of the Cross's Living Flame of Love and Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle employ nuptial images to express the union of the soul with God. Schneiders notes that Christian spirituality embraces nuptial imagery for men and for married couples, for example, the mysticism of the celibate John of the Cross, married mystics like Catherine of Genoa, and also St. Paul in texts referring to the church of Corinth (2 Co 11:2) (199). Since the religious life stands as "an abiding enact-ment" of the way of life of "the supreme consecrated one, Jesus Christ" (VC 22), the liturgy must convey this. This way of life itself witnesses to the church far beyond any apostolic service? The liturgy strives to enunciate the full meaning of this way of life. This meaning remains a challenge for religious today: the rediscovery of their life's symbolic and transcendent meaning.3 The rite deals with discipleship, communion of life, service, mission, witness, union with God. The parts--the Call, Examination, Solemn Prayer for Candidates, Words 6~.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4061 of Profession, Solemn Blessing, Bestowal of Insignia-- announce and enact this "new and special consecration" (VC 31, RPW 22-77). True to the origins of consecrated virginity in the church, the Rite of Profession "begs God's grace for them by its public prayer and puts them in God's hands, blesses them and unites their offering with the Eucharistic Sacrifice" (RRP 1). But what signs signify the "special grace of intimacy of spousal communion which distinguishes this state in life from all others" (VC 16)? How does the rite "recall that wonderful marriage made by God which will be made fully manifest in the age to come, and in which the church has Christ alone for her spouse" (PC 12)? The inclusion of the Rite of Religious Profession in the Mass links it with essential life in the church. A short analysis of the rite can shed light on the bridal image of a consecrated woman disciple. The words of the Opening Prayer insert religious pro-fession into the heart of the mystery of the church. In the "Rite of Temporary Profession," the presider acknowl-edges that the Lord has "inspired our sisters with the resolve to follow Christ more closely," and he asks that "they may be able to offer you the perfect gift of their loving service" (RPW 286) In the "Rite of Perpetual Profession," the opening prayer praises God because "the grace of baptism has borne fruit in the lives of your ser-vants so that now they strive to follow your Son more closely" (RPW 288). Since these and other texts consis-tently refer to the candidates as "servants," both disci-pleship and mission are integral to the consecrated life. Similarly, ritual elements such as the Call, the Request, the Examination of Resolve, the Litany of the Saints, and the Act of Profession are reminders that religious profes-sion announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace a way of life that makes present the risen Christ in history Review for Religious (VC 19). The candidates solemnly express their desire to publicly proclaim this radical form of discipleship (RPW 64). Their own words effect the transformation of their lives (Schneiders, 100). Words profess the invisible and ineffable mystery of this "new and special consecration" (VC 31). At this time the professed becomes a public sign and prophetic voice of the church as bride (VC 15,19). The liturgy endows the human word with the power to take baptismal consecration to the nth degree. Henceforth the professed stands for and in the eschaton: the great wedding banquet has already begun. The heavenly Bridegroom is here and waits to be met (Mr 25:1-13). Where, then, does the rite incorporate the nuptial metaphor? Bridal imagery that existed in the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" was not dis-carded when the Roman Missal was revised. It was integrated into the rite along with the other two evangelical counsels, obedience and poverty. Canonically the religious life is a stable form of life which "manifests in the church the wonderful marriage brought about --- by God, a sign of the future age"; the consecrated person's "whole existence becomes a continuous worship of God in charity" (canon 607, ~1). And so the rite enacts the choice of Catholic women to live their baptismal consecration radically. The evangelical counsels manifest embodied chastity chosen for the sake of the kingdom, individual ownership renounced by poverty, and personal autonomy relinquished through obedience (PC 5,6). Religious profession announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace away of life that makes present the risen Christ in history. 407 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4O8 How and where is nuptial symbolism incorporated into the rite? The Liturgy of the Word offers various various biblical texts that express nuptial imagery. Nuptial imagery captured the intimacy between Yahweh and the Israelite community, particularly in prophetic literature. Hosea's voice echoes across the centuries bridging cov-enants: "I will betroth myself to you forever" (Ho 2:14). Similarly, Wisdom literature speaks of "Love as strong as death" (Sg 8:6-7) and the call of the beloved, "Rise my love and come" (Sg 2:8-14). Thus the word proclaimed awakens the memory of a vital relationship in the past that is to be enacted in the here and now of today. Nuptial themes are also evident in other elements of the rite. In the Request or Call, the presider asks the can-didates what they ask of God and his church. The reply, "We ask for perseverance in the following of Christ our Bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (RPW 59), links discipleship with the bridal image. After the public pronouncement of vows and the signing of the document of profession on the altar, the presider prays for God's blessing on the professed in the name of the assembly and praises God for this gift to the church (RPW 69,70). Nuptial imagery is woven into the text of the prayer as God is praised and thanked for the ancient covenant by which the human family was made "your bride radiant with your own likeness" (RPW 72). Then the new covenant in Christ is recalled and imaged in and through the church, which was formed "into his bride [and loved by him] with so great a love that he gave himself up for it" (RPW 72). The prayer concludes with an acknowledgment of God's loving wisdom: You have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy Church shines with their rich variety, Review for Religious a bride adorned with jewels, a queen adorned in grace, a mother rejoicing in her children. Then the presider prays for the professed that they always be one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only Bridegroom . May they not fear him as their judge, but hear the voice of their Bridegroom lovingly inviting them to the wedding feast of heaven. (RPW 72) The words are followed by gestures and symbols that illuminate the invisible-to-the-eyes consecration. Depending on local custom, the professed are presented with a ring as "insignia of profession" (RPW 73). In Western cultures the wedding ring stands for this radical realization of the bap-tismal bond. As the ring is presented, the presider says: Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal King; keep faith with your Bridegroom so that you may come to the Wedding feast of eternal joy. (RPW 73) Nuptial imagery is reinforced as the choir and people respond singing: I am betrothed to the Son of the eternal Father, to him who was born of the Virgin Mother to be savior of the entire world. (RPW 75) Similarly, the "Rite of Temporary Profession" retains the ancient practice of the Presentation of the Veil to symbolize the new state of life conferred by the act of profession (RPW 34).4 The presider entrusts the newly professed with the veil, saying, "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the Church" (RPW 34).s Meanwhile the choir and people intone the refrain from the Song of Songs (3:3), "I have sought the Lord whom I love with all my heart" (RPV¢ 35, 36). The assembly echoes in song what is affirmed by the candidate and con-firmed by official representative of the religious congrega-tion. Distinct from the order of Christian virgins in the 4O9 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cbrist" 410 early Church, this new and unique consecration is lived in community life, not in the privacy of a family home. Clearly, every element of the rite is "theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated." Gestures and symbols act as visible signs of the invisible reality of interior consecration. The liturgy conveys the meaning of an ineffable experience "in such a way that it becomes accessible to thought." As already mentioned, by the 4th century the veil.(flammeura) had been brought into the liturgy from Roman wedding ceremonies. The velatio (veiling) of virgins signifies that the virgin's body is "conse-crated by the divine Spirit," "dedicated to the Lord," "con-secrated to God," "consecrated at God's altars.''6 The rite signifies a new relationship of the Christian woman with Christ and with the Christian community, mediated by the bishop, as 'representative of the local church. The new sta-tus of the Christian woman virgin, bride, and disciple of Christ always stood out in the ecclesial community.7 Thus, the chastity and the meaning of "bride of Christ" coincide in this rite's blend of baptismal conse-cration and radical discipleship. Lex orandi informs lex credendi and transforms lex vivendi. Our catechesis on the meaning of the "bride of Christ" has relied on the lit-urgy to illuminate the meaning hidden in shadows. The Christian woman religious is both bride and disciple.~ In the crisis of symbolism in Western cultures, the symbolic value of the veil, ring, or any distinctive form of dress fares badly. We

Issue 60.6 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; ° R-eview for Re!igio~s b~lps people re~pon~ and befaithful to.God's, universal ~ail to holiness' ' " by making; available tO them the sl~irituai legades - " tb~t flow-~om the, charisms of Catbolicconsecrated life~ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address chafiges 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 Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the pers6nal 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. vi,ew 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 TracT Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 6 contents 566 a wider mission The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There Mary C. Boys SNJM probes aspects of religious life in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship and provides a testimony that emboldens her continued commitment to this lifeform. 581 'Unsuspected Mission A. Paul Dominic SJ identifies the mission of spiritual conversation as the basic apostolic work of Jesus and of all who are his followers. 594 spiritual directions On the Seventh Day God Rested Marie Beha OSC suggests ways of understanding and making more creative use of Sabbaths in our life. 602 Where Your Heart Is Donald Macdonald SMM sees in Jesus' journey to Jerusalem (in Luke) an ardor and constancy that our bonding with him through Sc~ipture's strong and burning words can accomplish also in us. Review for Religious evaluations 614 628 Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ Marie Brinkman SCL looks at the lives lived by sisters in the past as the foundation that must validate today's discernment criteria for the needed changes. Missionary or Mercenary Patrick Sean Moffett CFC offers a perspective on changes in membership, changes in collaboration, and changes in corporate commitment in order to stimulate discussion on community apostolates. 640 647 divine initiatives What Only God Can Make Ann Marie Paul SCC imaginatively ponders religious community pictured as a tree, with the trunk representing chastity, the branches poverty, and the leaves obedience. God's Will: Where Desires Commingle Denis Donoghue SJ ruminates on the seeking out of God's will and illustrates some principles of discernment in a personal'example. departments . 564 Prisms 655 Canonical Counsel: Readmission to a Religious Institute 661 Book Reviews 667 Indexes to Volume 60 November-Dece~nber 2001 prisms All of us have to be born and have to die. These "have to's" sound like some activity we must do, when both are rather something that happens to us. "Being born" and "being dying" are the leveling events that bookend all human life. What fills the space in between seems to spell out nothing but all the hills and valleys, rolling vineyards and desert wastelands, that represent the inequalities of human living. Some people are born into wealth, and they will never know want. Others are only fortunate enough at birth to have a mother healthy enough to give them mother's milk, but they will go through life malnour-ished and disease-prone. Some are born highly gifted and fail ever to develop their talents. Others struggle through life with a minimum of human endowments, but successfully act with a perennial zest. Some will spend their life in steel and glass skyscrapers, and others will know only the simplest of grass or plywood huts. Some will travel the world; others will know only their village. Except for "being born" and "being dying," we human beings seem to spend lifetimes of greatly unequal value. There seems to be no level playing field for all people to encounter each other on. God engages the inequalities of human life in the incarnation and birth of his Son. In the familiar hymn quoted in St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, our atti-tude must be "that of Christ: Though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediendy accepting even death, death on a cross" (Ph 2: 5-9). Paul reflects that God takes on a true inequality. In becoming human, Christ goes from the fullness of divin- Review for Religious i'ty to the emptiness of humanity. Theologically, humanity is empty because everything that each of us has is gift, as Jesus reminds us in saying that all his words and his works are not his, but come from the Father. So in faith we know an inequality that is real between God and the human. But, then, in God's becoming human in Jesus, we come to know God's definitive action in breaking down all the appearances of inequality that divide us humans. Jesus entered into the leveling experience of all humans by "being born" and by "being dying." Through all the in-between time, he lived his life as an example and .taught by word and para-ble that the leveling process permeated the whole of human living. While friendly with rich and poor alike, with learned and unlearned, Jesus seems to violate our sense of leveling by his iden-tifying with the poor, with servants and slaves, with the marginal-ized. He reaches out to them in his care; he tells stories about them for our instruction. Jesus asks us to be like him--one who serves. In the Last Supper washing of the feet, Jesus stresses that he has given us an example. Jesus transfigures the language and meaning of slavery, ser-vice, and ministry. All these words now describe valued human interaction from a divine perspective. We all are meant to be helpers--in Scripture, sometimes called slaves, sometimes servants, sometimes minis-ters-- to one another in life. Helpers and those being helped are on the same level. One is not superior as a human being in either being the helper or minister or being the one being helped or ministered to. Jesus gave us an unforgettable image by answering "Who is my neighbor?" with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Th~ second half of the one commandment stresses that we love our neighbor as ourselves. Our love goes out to whomever, persons always on a level no different from ourselves. We neither reach down in helping nor reach up; we only reach across. By entering into our human level, God broke through all the specious levels that seem to divide humankind. By our entering into the divine experience of Jesus, we see and act as sons and daughters of a heav-enly Father. Every Christmas, we challenge ourselves anew about the Christian leveling of human life. By our faith we live life on the same level--the level has been forever divinely clarified because of the birth of Jesus. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 2001 a wider mission MARY C. BOYS The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There A great value of ecumenical and interreligious exchange is that it sheds light on one's own tradition. Seeing oneself through the eyes of others expands one's reflections, provokes absorbing questions, and clarifies values and modes of thought. While my roots in the religiously variegated Pacific Northwest mean I have long been in Protestant company, and my interest in Judaism dates back to my college years, it was only upon moving to New York City seven years ago that I staked my tent on ecumenical and inte~religious terrain. Teaching at the historically Protestant Union Theological Seminary and working in Christian-Jewish dialogue beyond Union's quadrangle afford new understandings not only of the religiously "other," but of Catholicism as well. And, by providing a flesh viewpoint on religious life, my situation exercises a profound personal effect) SandraSchneiders has observed that women religious seem able to work beyond the boundaries of Christianity while remaining deeply affiliated with it; we Mary C. Boys SNJM is the Skinner and McAlpin Professor of Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and the author of Has God Only One Blessing? Judaism as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding. Her address is Union Theological Seminary; 3041 Broadway; New York, N.Y. 10027. Review for Religious "are at once very deeply involved in institutional Catholicism and often widely and deeply involved in the experiences of spirituality beyond its denominational boundaries.''2 Yet, in exploring the topic of religious life and interreligious dialogue, she turns her gaze more to the East, to dialogue among monastics. By exploring the implications of interaction with Jews and Judaism, I hope to highlight a distinctive interreligious conversation that Schneiders touches on only tangentially, and thereby to add another layer to, and engage in occasional argument with, her outstanding scholarly study. Probing religious life, a topic on which I have never published, in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship, on which I have published, challenges me to hold together two vital parts of my life. This essay, then, revolving around four "scenes," is deeply per-sonal, but I hope not solipsistic, for I intend it as a stimulus for conversation. I. London, June 2000, a Catholic-Jewish conference on "The Theology of Partnership." This conference involved participants principally from the United Kingdom and the United States, along with a few European and Israeli scholars and a Vatican delegation. Although the large number of participants hindered the flow of discussion, our exchange was for the most part candid and stimulating. In the latter part of the conference, one of the Catholics, a priest, launched into a romanticized mini-sermon about Mary as virgin and mother. Its traditionalist theology and tangential relation to the point under discussion elicited considerable skepticism, if one might judge by the body language of rolled eyes and heads held in hands. Many sought recognition by the chair to respond (including all the Catholic women), but I have less recollection of the rejoinders than I do of the comment by the woman next to me. A Reform rabbi from the United Kingdom, she wrote furiously on her notepad: "Mary. Virgin. Why don't they talk about real women?" Liminal. Marginal. Such terms, used by Schneiders (among others) to describe religious life strike a chord. Insofar as this lifeform has a prophetic character rather than a hierarchical status, religious life is indeed lived on the "thresholds where realities meet, dash, and merge.''3 Nonetheless, such terms are sometimes far too academic to describe moments of feeling just how odd and anomalous we religious are. While on one level I suspect I November-December 2001 Boy~ * The lnterreli¢ous Worm To be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. understand what my table companion was objecting to, the starkness of her opposition of "virgin" and "real women" hit hard. In reflecting later, I realize I never use terminology about virginity to describe celibacy; not only does it connote a naive innocence, but it speaks only to the dimension of abstention from genital sexual intimacy. Without question, this self-chosen abstention---or, better, an abstention that is part of our being called to a distinctive way of life--has its ascetic aspects. Nevertheless, the term virginity seems to suggest that we have repressed our sexuality, thereby ceasing to be "real" women. Whether or not the Jungian-grounded theory of the "virgin archetype" or a similar perspective can overcome the cultural stereotypes of virginity is a real question, but this dimension of Finding the Treasure offers a compelling description of the inner autonomy celibacy can offer. In the halls of Union, being a nun (in the imprecise use of the term) is sometimes seen as a "weird" way of life. Yet consecrated celibacy is not unknown in Protestantism. Students of Hinduism and Buddhism, moreover, know about celibacy in those traditions. It, is, however, completely uncharacteristic of rabbinic Judaism, which places intense emphasis on family life and home-based ritual.4 So to be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. While this experience can be jarring, as it was at that conference June 2000, in general it has increased my sensitivity to the peculiarities of religious life, a sensitivity that can be dulled by remaining in the more homogeneous company of one's religious congregation.5 At the same time, it makes the God question more prominent. Jews typically are more reticent in speaking about God, a healthy corrective to the overfamiliarity with which many Christians ~peak about the Holy One.6 The presence, however, of persons for whom the "God quest" is the principal explanation for their liminal way of life raises questions, at least implicitly, about the divine-human relationship. Perhaps, to balance the incident with which I began this section, I should report that recently, at the conclusion of a Review for Religious weekend spent as a scholar-in-residence at a synagogue, an elderly man came up to thank me. His eyes welling with tears, he said, "You answered God's call many years ago, and now you are able to be among us." II. November 2000, a gathering of Holocaust survivors in the New York metropolitan area. While giving a series of lectures in a Catholic parish on New York's East Side the previous September, I met Lewis Weinstein, a businessman who had just published a novel on the Spanish Inquisition, The Heretic. A few weeks later he phoned to ask if I would share the podium with him at an event sponsored by the New York area Holocaust survivors. They had invited him to speak about his book, and he in turn thought it would be good if I would speak about developments in the Catholic Church's relations with Jews. His historical novel portrays a grim time. The Inquisition bears witness to the ways in which the legacy of anti-Judaism became a justification for greed and intolerance and persecution. His selections mirrored the bleakness. For example, one of the principal characters, Friar Ricardo Perez, copies texts from the New Testament and early church writers such as Chrysostom in order to justify his hatred of Jews. Lew's final excerpt was from John Chrysostom, whose vitriol toward Jews is well known: "These Jews are gathering choruses of effeminates and a great rubbish heap of harlots. Their synagogues are brothels and theaters, dens of robbers and lodgings for wild beasts. Jews know but one thing: to fill their bellies and be drunk. Their condition is no better than that of pigs and goats. Refusing to accept Christ, they have made themselves fit for s!aughter. The synagogue is a dwelling of demons, and the Jews who pray there themselves are demons. If the Jews are acting against God, must they not be serving demons? For they did sacrifice their sons and daughters to demons. Jewish mother~ ate their own children, and the hands of Jewish women boiled their own children. Their synagogues are fortresses of the devil, and the pit of all perdition. The devil is a murderer, and the Jew demons who serve him are murderers, tOO.''7 The air hung heavy in the room. Then the chair introduced me in her heavily accented English. "Mr. Weinstein wanted this Sister Mary to come. I'm not sure why. I did not have such a good experience of nuns in Poland. Anyway, here's Sister Mary Boys." " "Oy ray," I thought on the way to the podium. "How did I get myself into this one--and what now?" November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm There was enormous anger in that room, much of it directed at the Catholic Church, which I represented to them. Their anger was not simply the church's failure to live the gospel during the Shoah (Holocaust), but also their experience as children. These were men and women who had been taunted, even beaten, as "Christ-killers," who feared--with good reason--walking by a church, who were terrified to go out in the streets on "Good" Friday. I had with me the 1997 "Declaration of Repentance" by the French bishops. Its words came to life before my eyes: In the judgment of historians, it is a well-proven fact that for centuries, up until Vatican Council II, an anti-Jewish traditibn stamped its mark in differing ways on Christian doctrine and teaching, in theology, apologetics, preaching, and in the liturgy. It was on such ground that the venomous plant of hatred for the Jews was able to flourish. Hence the heavy inheritance we still bear in our century, with all its consequences which are so difficult to wipe out. Hence our still open wounds? To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. For this reason, the Catholic-Jewish encounter is sui generis in the interreligious sphere, a point Schneiders overlooks in saying that the interreligious encounter differs "in virtually every way from the ecumenical one. It involves an encounter not between separated siblings, but between virtually total strangers.''9 We Catholics and Jews are indeed separated siblings, and that separation has been bitter, violent, and tragic. We are not strangers; we have been enemies--and to work for reconciliation is an obligation of justice. It is difficult enough for us as Catholic women to deal with church structures that mute our voices. It is even more disillusioning to study the long history of Christian contempt for Jews, the tradition of adversus Judaeos: how rivalry hardened into contempt, and contempt fostered disputation, and disputation developed into demonization, and demonization fertilized this "venomous plant of h~tred for the Jews." Like all of history's stories, the church's relationship with Jews and Judaism is a complicated tale--with significant contextual factors in every age, occasions of amity and respect and of prophets with a different vision. Nonetheless, it is largely a story of moral blindness, imperialism, and violence. While I am not personally complicit, it is Revie~v for Religious a story of which I am deeply ashamed--and one that demands I examine my complicity in other betrayals of the gospel. I am grateful for the privilege, difficult though it is, of facing those whom our history has hurt. Meeting survivors and knowing children of survivors (and, for that matter, knowing any Jews at all, for who among them has not been touched in some way by the Shoah?) means not only reading this history with deepened sensitivity, but also being emboldened to act differendy so that "the spoiled seeds of anti-Semitism should never again take root in the human heart."1° Nevertheless, confronting this history causes anguish and compounds my problems as a feminist with the institutional church. The "open wound" of which the French bishops spoke festers even as I struggle with my Catholic identity in a church that treats women as second-class citizens. I live, too, with the irony that the official church seems more committed to dialogue with Jews than with their own women. The confrontation with history, moreover, triggers another crisis, a dark night of the soul. If "the most acutely painful point of intersection between the postmodern sensibility and religious faith is the God-image,'' 11 then the Shoah is the starkest event in this intersection. It brings one face-to-face with the "abusing God," requiring us to ponder unbearable questions about the One to whom we pray22 As grateful as I am for all I have learned (and continue to learn) about prayer from my sisters, we seem reluctant to address these searing questions in our common prayer. Indeed, I cannot recall any occasion in which the Shoah and its challenges to our understanding of God have been raised to the conscious level in the communal prayer of my own congregation, the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. This leads me to wonder whether any congregation, with the exception of the Sisters of Sion, confronts "God issues" that swirl around the Shoah23 The way that many Jews, especially in this post-Holocaust period, address God in a challenging manner has much to teach us. Elie Wiesel says that those who stand within the covenant have the To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. Nbvember-December 2001 Boys * The Interreh~ious Worm right to say anything to God--even blasphemy.~4 In the concluding section of his profound meditation on God and abuse (including the Shoah, but also sexual abuse), David Blumenthal composes darifig prayers for use in Jewish liturgical services. He cautions that prayers of this type require preparation: One must have a deep commitment to God, a deep desire to want to be with God, to want to have a relationship with God. It must be important, indeed a matter of spiritual life and death, to be able to address God. One must have, too, deep and abiding faith in the covenant, in our ability to address God no matter what the circumstances and no matter how severe our prayer may be; and in God's desire to hear us and to help us address God. One must also have a sense of proportion about our relationship to God. We are creatures, not Creator. We are innocent, as victims of abuse; but we are sinners, in many other matters. We are accusers, yet we are children. This creates a tension in our images of ourselves, of God, and of the proper relationship between us; yet we must live, think, and pray within this tension.~s Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. I~I. Friday nights: a guest at the dinner table for Sbabbat. Passover: a guest at the Seder. I feel deeply privileged to join jewish friends for Shabbat or for the Seder. I have learned more than I can say from the lively conversations and observing the ways in which they su'ive to lead lives of integrity in fidelity to Torah. Without idealizing the tradition, I find much cause for "holy envy": its depth of prayer mirrored in the Siddur and in the cycle of festivals, the intellectual vitality (especially the value placed on study), the prizing of family, and home-based religious practices. My relationships leave me no doubt that Judaism fosters a holy way of life and that the ways of Torah are salvific for those committed to walking in its ways. The privilege accorded me in coming to know the power of another religious tradition finds little reflection in the recent Vatican declaration Dominus Iesus (D1).16 My experience provides a different vantage point from which to view other religious traditions. Even as DI recognizes that the dialogue between Christianity and other religions raises new questions that should be "addressed through pursuing new paths of research, advancing proposals, and Review for Religious suggesting ways of acting that call for attentive discernment" (§3), it reiterates traditional formulations of faith in arguing against pluralism. It condemns the mentality of indifferentism "characterized by a religious relativism which leads to the belief that 'one religion is as good as another'" (§22). The declaration refutes those who regard the Catholic Church as merely "one way of salvation alongside those constituted by the other religions" (§21). Rather, "Jesus Christ is the mediator and universal redeemer" (§11). Further, "one can and must say that Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute. Jesus is, in fact, the Word of God made man for the salvation of all" (§15). According to the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), one may still speak of equality in interreligious dialogue, but only in reference to the "equal personal dignity of the parties in dialogue, not to doctrinal content nor even less to the position of Jesus Christ . Thus, the certainty of the universal salvific will of God does not diminish but rather increases the duty and urgency of the proclamation of salvation and of conversion to the Lord Jesus Christ" (§22). Without entering into detailed theological analysis of Dominus Iesus, I simply want to call attention here to one of its primary deficiencies. The declaration has no sense of the relational, no feel for human interchange. Other religions are an abstraction, a category, an it. DI pays no attention to these religions as they exist in the lives of real people; it shows no sensitivity to the "thick" texture of other traditions. The writers, rather, claim objectivity: "Objectively speaking, they [other religions] are in a gravely deficient situation." Such a judgment ignores theologies of pluralism that allow one to privilege his or her own convictions while taking account of the reasonability of others' beliefs.~7 In judging dialogue from a position of omniscience, the declaration bears no indication of what we might learn from the religious other. Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. Noventber-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Into'religious Worm On the explicit level, DI says little about the church's relationship with Judaism.~ DI refers to Jews just once (§13): "The first Christians encountered the Jewish people, showing them the fulfillment of salvation that went beyond the Law," thus implicitly porraying Judaism as legalistic. DI then falls silent about Judaism. Nonetheless, its judgment~ seem to encompass Judaism, because DI notes no exceptions. It works only with three categories: Roman Catholicism, other Christian churches (distinguishing between those with apostolic succession and a valid Eucharist and "ecclesiastical communities which have not preserved the valid episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the eucharistic mystery [and therefore] are not churches in the proper sense" §17), and non-Christian religions. In view of such a sweeping scope, readers may reasonably infer that the CDF includes Judaism within the rubric of non-Christian religions. Jews, therefore, seem also to be subject to the claim that, because "Jesus Christ is the . . . universal mediator" (§11), "one can and must say" that his significance and value for "the human race and its history., are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute., for the salvation of all" (§ 15). For Catholics this means being "committed to proclaiming tq all people the truth definitively revealed by the Lord and to announcing the necessity of conversion to Jesus Christ and of adherence to the church through baptism and the other sacraments in order to participate fully in communion with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" (§22). Such a view stands in tension with my own experience.~9 As one privileged to be a frequent guest in Jewish homes, to learn from Jewish scholars, to experience something of the profundity of Jewish liturgy and prayer, and, above all, to have close Jewish friends, I have an abiding respect, even awe, for the depth of Judaism. The way of Torah certainly seems to me salvific for those who walk in it. I cannot.in conscience seek the conversion of a Jew. This is not a matter of indifferentism, but rather a glimpse of the incomprehensible God whose ways transcend our under-standing. IV. Three items: Item: "Jesus' relations with women seem to have been remarkably free, given the reserve that Jewish custom in his day required."2° Item: "At the historical moment when Jesus was born Review for Religious into the world, the stares of Jewish women had never been lower . By the time of Jesus' birth, many decades of rabbinic commentary and custom had surrounded Old Testament literature. And these rabbinic traditions considerably lowered the status of women.'m Item: "Palestinian Hebrew women were among the poorest in the world in Jesus' day. This was probably because they had no inheritance rights and could be divorced for the flimsiest of reasons. Hebrew men could divorce their wives for anything from burning the dinner (Hillel) to adultery (Shammat). Yet Hebrew women were not allowed to divorce their husbands .A. Hebrew woman had minimal to no property rights A. .child was held to be Jewish only if the mother was Jewish. Most Jewish girls were betrothed by their fathers at a young age. Jewish women were held to be unclean while menstruating. If she inadvertently touched a man while having her menses, he was obliged to undergo a week-long purification ritual before worshiping at the Temple . In early Judaism women did proclaim and prophesy, but in Jesus' day they weren't permitted to proclaim Torah at synagogue because of their periodic 'uncleanness.' As a rule, only the rabbis' wives were so educated. Women were not accepted as witnesses in Jewish law, nor could they teach the law. Women had no official religious or leadership roles in first-century Judaism. Jesus' behavior toward women, even viewed through the androcentric lens of the gospel texts, is remarkable.''2z I could multiply such examples; they seem ubiquitous in feminist writing, both scholarly (less now, though more common among feminist authors from the third world and the East) and pastoral. These perspectives are communicated widely among women's communities and beyond them. My encounter with Judaism helps me look at such claims critically, especially those related to the Second Temple period and the early church. I am sympathetic to the desire to understand Jesus as one who liberated his followers--including (perhaps especially) women--from the oppressive structures of religious authorities. (Yes, many of us consider some religious authorities oppressive in our time.) Nonetheless, I have come to agree with Mary Rose D'Angelo that portraying Jesus as the one "who saves women from Judaism" bothoversimplifies and distorts the situation of Jewish women in lst-century Palestine23 It does indeed seem that, in many feminist and liberationist circles, "no plot is complete witho.uLt a-575- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm reference to the 'Jewish patriarchal system,' although very rare are comments on the similarly patriarchal pagan cultures of antiquity.''24 Sadly, I have come to see that many who do theology under the rubric of feminism have drunk all too deeply from the wells of anti-Judaism. Despite the rich literature on the Pharisees, most notably that of Anthony Saldarini,25 in many liberal and feminist circles they function as the symbol of precisely what is wrong with religious authorities. (For example: "[The Pharisees and their colleagues the scribes] tried to keep control over people's access to God through control of the Law. Jesus denounced this pretension and returned to the people the true means of access to God: love and com-passion." 26) In many feminist writings, moreover, the laws of ritual purity, which the Pharisees are portrayed as championing, serve as the source of the clearest contrast between oppressive Judaism and the liberating Jesus. We are instructed about the "dehumanizing situation in which the women of the time were enslaved." We learn how menstruating women were "discriminated against, degraded, and dehumanized,m7 In short, some feminist writers contrast Jewish women of the Second Temple period with New Testament narratives to support their claims that, "at its inception, pristine Christianity and Jesus himself were free of any misogyny or gender bias." Thereby they implicitly buttress the argument of Christian superiority over Judaism.28 Thus I differ with Sandra Schneiders's portrayal of Jesus vis-a-vis his Jewish contemporaries. While I appreciate--and agree wholeheartedly with--her larger argument about the way in which the prophetic character of religious life places communities in tension with ecclesiastical authorities, I disagree with claims such as "Jesus was rejected by official Judaism" and the more subtle assertion that, "like Jesus, who taught both respect for ecclesiastical leaders insofar as they legitimately hold office and resistance to ecclesiastical oppression, religious must stand with and for the disempowered in the church (cf. Mt 23:2-5 [the scathing denunciation of the scribes and Pharisees]).''z9 The Pharisees, despite their depiction in the Gospels, cannot historically be regarded as representatives of "official" Judaism (there was no such official body), and we should not use them as symbols of clericalism, however useful that might be to feminist causes. They were not the equivalent of ecclesiastical leaders. We would do well to listen to Jewish feminists--such as Paula Review for Religious Fredriksen's observations about the purity laws,3° Ross Kraemer's critique of rabbinic prooftexting,3~ and Rabbi Elyse Goldstein's wrestling with the meaning of the purity rules for her own life.32 To recognize that "Jewish hopes of a new and transformed world made the movement begun by Jesus and his companions and early Christian communities forums for participation and leadership for women" necessitates refining our argument, but in no way diminishes it.33 To acknowledge the complexity of patriarchy in antiquity as well as in early Christianity entails facing the arrogance of our own limited perspectives. In sum, my encounter with Jews and Judaism has brought deepened appreciation for the distinctiveness of religious life in the Catholic tradition. It has challenged me to face the long shadow of our history and to grapple with many questions about God in light of the Shoah. It shapes my theological vantage point on Dominus Iesus as well as various feminist writings. Above all, my encounter inspires hope. For all that lies unresolved within our church in regard to relations with Jews, what has happened between Christians and Jews in our time testifies to the power of the Spirit to bring healing and new life--a testimony that emboldens my own commitment to religious life. Notes ~ This is an edited version of a paper presented at the conference on "The Nun in the Postmodern World," sponsored by the Suenens Foundation in Leuven, Belgium, 31 May--4 June 2001. My thanks to Dr. Doris Donnelly, director of the Suenens Foundation and to Mariana Murphy SNJM, to whom I dedicated it on the occasion of her 70th anniversary of religious profession. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context, Vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 348. 3 Schneiders, Finding, p. 330. 4 Celibacy seems to have been characteristic only of the Therapeutae, a lst-centuryJewish ascetic group near Alexandria, Egypt. Scholars debate whether the covenanters at Qumran were celibate and, if so, whether that was a permanent or temporary state. See Lawrence Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 127-143, and Joseph Fitzmyer, Responses to 101 Questions on the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 66. s Schneiders speaks of religious life as "nonnatural" insofar as it involves bypassing the most fundamental natural mediations of the God- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious World human engagement. She distinguishes "nonnatural" from unnatural or antinatural "because nothing is mote fundamental to our humanity than the quest for God." She also notes that this path is fraught with danger, including "ascetical extremism, rigidity, misanthropy, false mysticism, gnosticism and esotericism, elitism" (Finding, pp. 131-132). 6 For an analysis of this reticence, including its problematical character, see Steven M. Cohen and Arnold M. Eisen, The Jew 14/Tthin: Self, Family, and Community in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000), esp. chap. 6, "God and the Synagogue," pp. 155-180. 7 Lewis Weinstein, The Heretic (New York: goodnewfiction.com, 2000), p. 158. Later Weinstein has Perez use Chrysostom in a sermon at the cathedral (see pp. 242-244). s Quoted in Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs, Catholics Remember the Holocaust (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1998), p. 32. 9 Finding, p. 336. 10 This is the conclusion of the 1998 Vatican document We Remember: A Reflection on the Shoab; see Catholics Remember the Holocaust. The United States Conference of Catholi~ Bishops (USCCB) has now published a companion volume, Catholic Teaching on the Shoah: Implementing the Holy See's "We Remember" (2001). II Schneiders, Finding, p. 195. 12 I take the phrase "abusing God" from the work of David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993). 13 On the Sisters of Sion, see my Has God Only One Blessing?Judaimt as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 17-22. 14 "The questions man poses to God may be the same God poses to man. Nevertheless, it is man who must live--and formulate--it. In so doing, he challenges God, which is perm. issible, indeed required. He who says no to God is not necessarily a renegade. Everything depends on the way he says it, and why. One can say anything as long as it is for man, not against him, as long as one remains inside the covenant; only if you repudiate and judge your people from the outside will you become a renegade." Elie Wiesel, One Generation AJ~er (New York: Avon, 1972), p. 216. ,s Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God, pp. 284-285. 16 "'Dominus Iesus': On the Unicity and. Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church," Origins 30, no. 14 (14 September 2000). It is dated 6 August 2000 and was issued on 5 September 2001--ironically, the same week as Jewish scholars released Dabru Emet, an eight-point statement responding to Christian attempts to come to terms with anti- Judaism. (For Dabru Emet, see www.jcrelations.net or www.icjs.org; also Tikva Frymer-Kensky, David Novak, Peter Ochs, David Fox Sandmel, ReviewforReligious and Michael Signer, Christianity in Jewish Terms (Boulder: Westview Press, 2000). ,7 See, e.g., Michael Barnes, Christian Identity and Religious Pluralism: Religions in Conversation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1989), and S. Mark Heim, Salvations: Truth and Difference in Religion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). ~8 See my "Dominus Iesus and Judaism," forthcoming in Richard Sparks, ed., Proceedings of the Fi~h-sixth Annual Convention of the Catholic Theological Society of America. 19 For an account of something of what I have learned from Jews, see my Jewish Christian Dialogue: One Woman's Experience (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1997). 20 Monique Alexandre, "Early Christian Women," in/t History of Women in the West, Vol. 1, From Ancient Goddesses to Christian Saints, ed. Pauline Schmitt Pantel (Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1992), pp. 407-444 (citation, p. 420). 21 Cited in Judith Plaskow, "Feminist Anti-Judaism and the Christian God," Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 7, no. 2 (Fall 1991): 104-107; in Helen P. Fry, Christian-Jewish Dialogue: A Reader (Exeter, U.K.: University of Exeter Press, 1996), p. 233. 22 Christine Schenk CSJ, "Celebrating the Inclusive Jesus," Celebration: An Ecumenical Worship Resource (February 2000): 80-84 (citation, 81-82). 23 Mary Rose D'Angelo, "Gender in the Origins of Christianity: Jewish Hopes and Imperial Exigencies," in Joseph Martos and Pierre Hegy, eds., Equal at the Creation: Sexism, Society, and Christian Thought (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998), pp. 25-48 (citation, p. 25). 24 Amy-Jill Levine, "Lilies of the Field and Wandering Jews: Biblical Scholarship, Women's Roles, and Social Location," in Ingrid Rosa Kitzberger, ed., Transformative Encounters: Jesus and Women Re-Viewed (Leiden: Brill, 1999): pp. 330-352 (citation, p. 332). 2s See Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees in Palestinian Society (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988); also his "Pharisees," in David Noel Freedman et al., eds., The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 5 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 289-303. 26 Tereza Cavalcanti, "Jesus, the Penitent Woman, and the Pharisee," Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology 2, no. 1 (1994): 28-40 (citation, 40). 27 H. Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark: A Japanese Feminist Perspective (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994), pp. 12, 27. 28 See Ross S. Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Christian Women: Some Caveats," in Kraemer and Mary Rose D'Angelo, eds., Women and Christian Origins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 35-49 (citation, p. 36). 29 Schneiders, Finding, pp. 334 and 255, respectively. I am also uncomfortable with her section on Jesus as a prophetic model in her otherwise superb 2000 Madeleva Lecture, With Oil in Their Lamps: Faith, Feminism, and the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 97-108. In my November-December 2001 Boys ¯ Tbe lnterreligious Worm judgment, greater sensitivity to the heterogeneity of lst-century Judaism (arguments about Sabbath observance and the Temple [see pp. 100-101] were part of this heterogeneity), recognition that the Roman prefect controlled appointment of the high priest ("Nevertheless Jesus was executed by the Romans on the charge brought against him by the official of Judaism," p. 100), and contextualizing of phrases such as the "narrowness that had marred religion from long before his birth in the exclusivity of the Jews" would provide a more nuanced context for her claims. 30 Paula Fredriksen, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1999), esp. pp. 197-207. 3, Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Chrisfan Origins, pp. 37-39. 32 Elyse Goldstein, ReVisions: Seeing Torah through a Feminist Lens (Woodstock, Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1998), esp. pp. 94-114. 33 D'Angelo, "Gender Hopes," p. 25. Mary at the Window Tawdry as any plastic trinket outshopped To some Asian source, and mass-produced In garish glass-like gold and blue To catch the sun, Mary Most Holy is reduced To a window ornament, turning to face out, Turning on filaments again for facing in On household disorder, dissension, kitchenwork, Children at play on the floor, where a thin Shaft of shining blue light circles one Dazzled child looking up: Mary catches a son. Nancy G. Westerfield R~vie~v for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Unsuspected Mission MeisSion, which is much more talked about than put into xecution by talkers, is at bottom a very simple human experience of sharing with others our living faith in God. As such it is accessible to all of us anywhere, if only we are interested in it. It can begin whenever we meet others and spontaneously converse with them. It seems that not enough has been said or even thought about these ordinary human encounters, without which no mission can be started or sustained, whereas perhaps too much has been said about progressive modes of mission. Genesis of a New Mission With the founding of the Society of Jesus, St. Ignatius Loyola surely initiated a whole new saga of mission in the world of his time. The saga, however, may not be or even seem new any more. In fact, since Vatican Council II, there has been quite a legitimate revision of his ideas about promoting and defending the faith. But one exercise of that old mission has still not lost its newness; it is relevant today, but without making a splash. That exercise is simply, to quote St. Ignatius's own words, "to be profitable to individuals by spiritual conversation.''~ Accordingly, unlike the monasteries in mountain solitudes from the time of St. Benedict in the 6th century or the hermitages erected in earlier times in the desert far away from the evil world, the Jesuit residences came to be situated near the centers of towns and cities, where people would gather and A. Paul Dominic sJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. intermingle. Only then would the Jesuits be able to meet the people naturally enough, have normal dealings with them, and, as occasions arose, converse with them spiritually. That was an unassuming exercise of mission with an enduring validity, for there can be no time when personal mission, that is, reaching out to specific individuals wherever we are and keeping them company, will be out of tune with the times. The movement of new mission, which in God's providence the Society of Jesus came to be and even stand for, was itself a product of person-to-person missions that Ignatius himself exercised. Having sensed the working of God in himself, he could not keep the experience to himself, but felt an urge to share it with others. He would have certainly loved the angel Raphael's words: "It is good to conceal the secret of a king, but to acknowledge and reveal the works of God, and with fitting honor to acknowledge him" (Tb 12:7, NRSV unless otherwise indicated), Sharing with others his treasured experience of God gradually became a mode of life for him. He came to see it as a matter of course for him: to glorify God and at the same time be of help to others within his reach. Whereas his first contacts were the women whom he chanced upon at his usual haunts of the chapel or hospital, his fame)us beneficiaries were Pierre Favre (now a blessed) and Francis Xavier (now a saint) and a few others at the University in Paris, who with him came to form the Society of Jesus. It is no wonder that people who experienced the charm of his spiritual conversation tried to. be like him. It seems that the early Jesuits' fecundity in mission was in no small way owing to their exercise of spiritual conversation. Xavier, who blazed the trail of mission for the nascent Jesuit order and for the church of his day, was known for his extraordinary expertise in spiritual conversation. Not only companions of his like Peter Canisius (now a saint) witnessed to itfl but also the people of Bologna, who could say twenty years after his short stay with them: "He spoke little, but with great persuasivene.ss. He talked of divine things with great Review for Religious ¯ devotion, and his words penetrated into the hearts of his hearers and held them fast.''3 Itis a pity that those who have criticized Xavier's mission outreach with their post-Vatican II historical hindsight have failed woefully the postmodern mission by their ignorance of the practical skill in which Xavier excelled, namely, conversational mission--which, to be sure, will be out of date when humans cease speaking and being sociable. The Makeup of Conversational Mission Though the expression "conversational mission" used just now, and the equivalent expressions used earlier, are self-explanatory enough, there is nothing like getting full information straight from the horse's mouth. What did Ignatius himself say when he spoke to his little band of friends regarding their kind of preaching. We get some idea from his answer to a Dominican authority's peremptory question "Whatever do you preach?" Ignatius answered: "We do not preach but do speak familiarly of spiritual things with people, as one does after dinner, with those who invite us." In this brief and frank response--which, however, his interlocutor considered equivocal--one may discern and recognize three elements of the conversational mission: (1) conversation itself, (2) a veering to spiritual matters, and (3) a pleasant, familiar tone of voice. Notice that this Ignatian anecdote itself demonstrates spiritual conversation. A contrasting example may clarify the matter. Gregory of Nyssa had observed Christians in the marketplace of Constantinople. He reported: Constantinople is full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians, preaching in the shops and the streets. If you want a man to change a piece of silver, he informs you wherein the Son differs from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told by way of reply that the Son is inferior to the Father; and, if you inquire whether the bath is ready, the answer is that the Son is made out of nothing,s This is certainly not true spiritual conversation, having only a specious similarity to it. Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. It is that first and foremost, with no agenda except being present to others and getting acquainted.6 One talks with a November-December 2001 Dominic * Unsuspected Mission single individual or a small cluster, not a crowd. Such a conversation happens when we adopt towards people a welcoming attitude, perhaps forgoing for the time being our own business or preoccupation. It unfolds when we are truly ourselves, without putting on airs or having an ax to grind. It is engaging by its very nature, as we respond sensitively to the personal and situational stimuli around, now by word, now by silence, and all through by our bearing. Such a conversation does not follow any pattern except that of people letting one another's personalities freely rise to the occasion according to the twists and turns of the talk and the topics. If there is any way of programming it from beginning to end, it is by eager and attentive listening. Such conversing is like the breath of wind whose coming and going is beyond our reckoning, but which refreshes us and gives us pleasure. It is as natural and spirited as that. Engaging in it, we take others' measure and strive to bring out the best in them, thereby improving and testing ourselves (Si 9:14; 27:5). When people open the homes of their hearts in this hospitable way, Abha-God cannot be far away (1 Jn 4:12). If the art of dealing and conversing with people is, obviously enough, a natural human talent or acquirement, it is also, according to the mind of Ignatius, a grace.7 Perhaps such an understanding may be read between the lines of Paul's "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Col 4:6, NIV). Surely any conversation done ¯ in the reverent awareness of the Lord Jesus (Col 3:17; 1 P 3:15) will enable us to be at our best, natural or supernatural. Thinking along this line, perhaps, Kahlil Gibran could counsel: "When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the marketplace, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.''8 Those who make sense of this and make spa~e for the Spirit will come to know how the~ are led, even in the face of the unfriendly, to talk without anxious forethought and yet reveal a truth that they themselves are not directly aware of (Mr 10:17-20). Besides such inspired moments, however, there are bound to be routine occasions or chance meetings when they will have to exercise their grace of conversation on a more deliberate, reflective level. At the appropriate time they will speak on spiritual affairs, as Sirach counseled long ago: "Let your conversation be with intelligent people, and let all your discussion be about the law of the Most High. Let the. righteous be your dinner companions, and let your glory be in the fear of the Lord" (Si 9:15-16). And the more Review for Religious they speak from the abundance of their heart, the better (Mt 12:34), following Paul's declaration "we believe, and so we speak" (2 Co 4:13). They will not resort to spiritual generalities, but will offer a specifically personal spiritual word of witness arising from whatever God has produced in the recesses of their heart and the externals of their life, as St. Paul does often (2 Co 1:4). In general, such conversational talk of God will be directed to what the partners in conversation require (Col 4:6). Far from anything bordering on evil, it will be "only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that [our] words may give grace to those who hear" (Ep 4:29), furthering their interior progress and stimulating their power for good in a society that hungers for more than small mercies: namely, justice, freedom, good faith, neighborliness, equality, and, not least, economic sufficiency, the proof of all the above? This conversational mission is to be carried on, for all its spiritual vision, in pleasant, discreet, and wholesome familiarity, the kind that may be witnessed (as Ignatius remarks) between the glad host and the happy guest who take time after a good meal to share what is in their hearts. Familiarity is the climate in which the conversational seeds of the spirit are best sown and harvested. Familiarity, however, is of different levels. The greater the familiarity, the better the opportunity for spiritual conversation. And so it is worthwhile to work discreedy towards deepening the familiarity. Familiarity or intimacy being the opposite of imposition, no conversational mission can be attempted if people make us aware that they would rather be left alone. Avoiding the least intrusion into their privacy, then, we must gendy gain their favor by our genuine respect for them, our interest in them as individuals with unique endowments, and our concern for any particular needs they may have. It is a matter of sincere accommodation, becoming all things to all people (I Co 9:22), all the while being sensitive to their ideals, their finer spiritual instincts. This is neighborliness towards them, without which no mission for their spiritual welfare can ever be thought of. So, even if they are not well disposed towards us, we deal with them pro-actively and seek to win them over, as God does. It is our familiarity with God that should overflow in our relation with others and make them feel at home with us. If we ever succeeded in this way of living, we would perhaps never meet anyone, however far gone in error, without effecting a change for the better. Blessed Pierre Favre was known precisely for such surprisingly wonderful encounters as November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsus~ected Mission he spoke about God without boring or annoying anyone, and so was lauded by Ignatius himself as one who could draw the water of grace from hardened souls. For those who would learn from him, here is a little precious lesson that he confided in a letter to a friend: In the first place., anyone who desires to be serviceable to heretics of the present age should hold them in great affection, . . . putting out of his heart all thoughts and feelings that tend to their discredit. The next thing he must do is win their goodwill and love by friendly dealings and converse on matters about which there is no difference between us, taking care to avoid all controversial subjects that lead to bickering and mutual recriminations. The things that unite us ought to be the first ground of our approach, not the things that keep us apart?~ Scriptural Suggestiveness Speaking about his spiritual discipleship, Ignatius confided that he was taught by God as a child by his master. In sharing his spiritual knowledge with others, however, he used theological and scriptural ideas and language, as in evident in his Spiritual Exercises. The question arises, then, whether there are scriptural indications behind his idea of conversational mission? Rescued by Jesus for Abba-God, Ignatius bums with desire to follow suit: looking for ways to edify and help his neighbors, he discovers that spiritual conversation significantly serves that purpose. Advocating this practice expressly and officially in the Jesuit Constitutions, he advances this reason: "The Lord has given care of his neighbor to everyone."~2 There seems to be reference to Sirach 17:12 or 17:14b and Luke 10:25-37, and certain other passages have a bearing on his divinely favored understanding of the mission of conversation. One is: "Proclaim the message; be persistent when the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching" (2 Tm 4:2). Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? Proclaiming is the activity which is described by the Greek verb kerussein here in 2 Timothy. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the " leprous man and the demoniac who were healed by Jesus, and the friends who witnessed Jesus' healing of the deaf and dumb man, are later "proclaiming" the blessing they received. Obviously, their proclaiming cannot be anything other than simply and Review for Religious enthusiastically telling people everywhere about their good fortune (Mk 1:45; 5:20; 7:36). This would have been conversation, involving relatively few people here and there--particularly impressive ahd contagious conversation, to be sure, but conversation nonetheless. Does the same sense hold when kerussein is used to denote the proclaiming activity of Jesus?13 Does kerussein have the same connotation of conversation here too? It does, for the following reason. Jesus himself presents his characteristic way of mission in terms of eating and drinking, while contrasting himself with his predecessor (Mt 11:19). In so doing he does not simply distinguish his way as the path of enjoyment or pleasure as opposed to the other's ascetical approach; but rather reveals himself in his mission as one who welcomes and enjoys and also extends fellowship with people, not of a class, but of all classes, brushing aside all prevalent social and religious taboos. So as he honors meal invitations--whether from Pharisees like Simon, tax collectors like Levi, friends like Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, or the hosts of wedding celebrations as at Cana, he in ~rn welcomes and plays host not only to his disciples but also--something that escapes people's attention--to public sinners and to social outcasts like the poor, the crippled, and the blind. If table companionship, being a guest or a kind of host, is characteristic of his ministry, it is not, as the Pharisees judge, by way of being a glutton and a drunkard, but of doing what goes with moderate eating and drinking, that is, having a conversation. C.S. Lewis remark, "The table is from time immemorial the place for talk." 14 This was particularly the case at feasts or parties that Jesus went to, with people reclining at table and engaging in prolonged conversation, valuing it more than food and drink.Is And, if a rabbi like Jesus is the chief guest, he has an excellent opportunity to cast his pearls26 Jesus makes use of such occasions to meet and converse with people at leisure and at length about what they miss and long for in life.17 When Jesus sends his disciples on their mission, he wants them to do no more than what they have seen him doing (Mk 3:14; 6:12). He bids them stay in the houses where they are welcome, in accordance with the sacred duty of hospitality in the East; there, during mealtime and at other times, they are sure to find Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission opportunities for spiritual conversation. No matter how variously mission was carried on in the early church, kerussein in the sense explained above was surely part of the picture. It is interesting and revealing that, like his Master, Peter was accused of eating with those outside his Jewish fold. He was doing what he had seen Jesus doing, namely, conversing with those at table, sharing with them the word of God, and bringing them graces of the kingdom of Abba-God. And Paul too, despite the popular impression of him as addressing small and large crowds, no doubt employed the conversational mode of mission, especially towards the end during his two years of semicaptivity at Rome, as Luke's use of the word kerussein at the conclusion of Acts seems to suggest. The Practice of Unobtrusive Missioners The conversational mission, as traced above, is not something apart from life, but is very much part of it. One may find this confirmed in St. Paul's general exhortation: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom" (Col 3:16). Though Ignatius specialized in the art of the conversational word and trained his Jesuit companions in it, one should not consider it something only for initiates.~s There can be no doubt that ordinary Christians in all times and climes have, like Ignatius in the first flush of his conversion, taken spontaneously to the conversational mission, and with tangible results. Their names have not come down to us, but they are in the company of the little Hebrew servant girl whose brief remark led Naaman the Syrian to find the true, unseen God (2 K 5:1-19). Describing the (Protestant Christian) mission that flourished in the mid 19th century among the Telugus in Andhra, South India, Rajaiah D. Paul can say: "From the very beginning of the movement., the work of evangelization was carried on by the infant native church itself, commencing with one individual and then extending, by natural and inevitable growth, like that of a living tree . The people followed much their own impulses . The quiet conversation when visiting friends and relations, the zealous defense of the truth when Christianity was assailed by others, the simple enunciation of belief when a reason for the hope that is in them was demanded; these, accompanied by a life consistent with the demands of the new religion, were what Review for Religious produced fruit in fresh accessions to Christianity." ~9 Reflecting on such experience of mission, which is perhaps more common than many suspect, one may discern an interplay of Christian fecundity and mission. The word fecundity, incidentally, may not be in common parlance now; but, as Henri Nouwen said, "it is a word worth reclaiming, for it can put us in touch with our deepest human potential to bring forth life"2° even in the ordinary circumstances of life. He tells a story of a bereaved South American mother. After celebrating Mass in memory of her young son killed in a tragic accident, he tried to condole with her. Caught up, however, with his own sorrow for her, he was not looking at her and not listening to her invitation to come home and have a meal with the family. Sensing this, the woman went closer to him and spoke to him gently, looking into his eyes: "Don't be so depressed, Father. Don't you know that God loves our Antonio, that God gave him to us for a few years and now wants to bring him to heaven? We are grateful that he was with us and we are grateful too that he can now be with God forever. We are grateful to you also. God loves us all and cares for us all.''21 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim. The Wise Choice of Celebrated Missioners Besides these anonymous but locally fecund missioners, there are celebrities in the international scene, like Frank Buchman (1879-1961), who made the most of spiritual conversation. For instance, along with swaying groups and governments by his moral authority as founder of the then quite active movement called Moral Re-Armament, Buchman also converted and gave life to all sorts of religious or secular-minded people by his individual conversations and dealings with them, and he inspired them to do likewise. A story is told of his stay at a hotel in Milan a few months before he died: "There were three barmen at the hotel. Frank Buchman did not buy drink from them. He went into their bar and gave them the bread of life. They and their families all found November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission something new from their friendship with him. One of then said of him, 'Dr. Buchman is different from most of the people I see. We have cleaned things up here since he came. Most of the leaders of Italy come to this bar sooner or later. The Foreign Minister was here the other day. He was so interested in what we told him about Buchman that he almost forgot his drink.'''22 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim (1908-1981). Not a Christian, she described herself as a religions woman with a vision of peace for the world. Keeping to her self-chosen double-barreled name, she committed herself to walking prayerfully as a pilgrim among people, eager to meet them and talk to them about the chances for peace. For this purpose she sported a short tunic with "Peace Pilgrim" in front and "25,000 Miles on Foot for Peace" on the back; she succeeded in drawing people into engaging conversations on the possibilities of peace in the modern world. To her pleasant surprise, she found the general response positive, with either a lively curiosity or a genuine interest in peace efforts. Her humble mission, basically human and Christian, touched people's hearts and even became a media phenomenon. This is how she recalls its beginning: "The birthplace of the pilgrimage was at the Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena, California. I walked ahead along the line of the march, talking to people and handing out peace messages, and noticing that the holiday spirit did not lessen the genuine interest in peace. When I had gone about halfway, a policeman put his hand on my shoulder and I thought he was going to tell me to get off the line of the march. Instead he said, 'What we need is thousands like you.'''23 Her personal encounters soon became media events spreading her message of peace. What began fruitfully on 1 January 1953 continued with greater and greater effectiveness till her death in 1981 during her seventh talking pilgrimage. The Like Choice in India Ignatius, too, began his mission as an obscure pilgrim on the move. Thinking, as an Indian, of the pilgrim Ignatius and others before and after him in the Christian world, I cannot but admire the sureness of their spiritual instinct, which many Indians have as well. India, too, is an ancient land of pilgrims going on regular Review for Religious pilgrimages, besides, of course, the lifelong pilgrims who keep moving across the length and breadth of the country or stay put in a monastery (math) or in a forest area. It is pleasant to recall that, as Peace Pilgrim was exercising her newfound permanent mission in the American world, two (Catholic) Christians--Joseph Thambi in Andhra Pradesh and Peter Reddy (a convert from Hinduism through Lutheranism) ir~ Tamil Nadu--were living in India a life much like that of the sannyasis, going about and sharing their spiritual pleasure and treasure with others who came their way. Even before them Sadhu Sunder Singh of Punjab, a Sikh-turned-(Anglican) Christian, had blazed a sannyasi kind of mission trail as early as 1908.24 Part of "Vie Voyag~re" However unusual and surprising their vocation may have been, the personalities mentioned above knew how to exercise their mission in ways not only unusual but most ordinary. They used the ordinary human capacity of conversation to excite and evoke spiritual awareness in people. Such spiritual talk, being part of normal sofiial intercourse, can and ought to thrive among Christians anywhere; all they need is a good measure of the Christian spirit of people on pilgrimage (Heb 3:12-4:11; 11:8-16). This was the sure but unforeseen way by which even the risen Jesus, making his return pilgrimage to his Abba-Father, reached out to his lost or fallen disciples and sent them on their new mission. Who has not enjoyed the narratives of his accosting them, drawing them to speak to him from their heart, and then with inspiriting w~rds arousing their drooping spirits for mission? It is up to us, partners in a holy heavenly calling, to keep our eyes on Jesus and, thus encouraged, to encourage one another day after day on our mission journey, a journey at once inward and heavenward (Heb 3:1, 13). Such was characteristically the vie voyagkre or missionary life of Mary, too, whom Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700), the foundress of the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal, contemplated as the model of conversation with others. After composing my own article, I learned this from Mary Anne Foley's recent article.25 Because of the reported affinity of her spirituality with the lgnatian variety, I suspect that the Sisters of Notre-Dame may well have more to say about Marguerite's conversational mission, adding to what I, have said about Ignatius's. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Notes t St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesns, trans. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 283, no. [648]. 2 See Thomas H. Clancy SJ, The Conversational Word of God (Anand, India: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1978), pp. 59, 63. 3 So Schurhammer, Francis Xavier, Vol. 1, as in Clancy, The Conversational Word of God, p. 11. ~ See Clancy, Conversational Word, p. 9. 5 William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1990), p. 127. 6 In an exhortation Jer6nimo Nadal shares what he has learned about this from Ignatius. See Clancy, Conversational Word,~pp. 53-54. 7 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 277, 332-333, nos. [624d] and [814]. s Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 72. 9 See St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 113,283, nos. [115] and [650]. l0 See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 53, 65. I I See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 20-21. 12 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, p. 113, no. [115]. ~3 See Lucien Legrand, Mission in the Bible (Pune, India: Ishvani Publication, 1992), p. 60. ~4 C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves (Glasgow: Collins Fount Paperbacks, 1977), p. 91. t5 See Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (London: Darton, LongTnan, and Todd, 1977), p. 38. t6 See William Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Bangalore, India: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 94. ~7 The objection that Jesus' table talk does not qualify to be kerussein since it lacks the usual fanfare of publicity of the kerux or royal herald can be met by remarking that Jesus, being the herald of the compassionate God, does not carry himself like the heralds of proud earthly rulers. 's See William Barclay, The Letters to Pbilippians. Colossians, and Thessalonians (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 126. ~9 Cecil Hargreaves, Asian Christian Thinking (Delhi: ISPCK, 1979), p. 97. 20 Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the House of the Lord (London: Darton, Longrnan, and Todd, 1986), p. 33. 2~ Nouwen, House, p. 49. 22 Peter Howard, Frank Buchman's Secret (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1962), p. 2. Review for Religious 23 Peace Pilgrim, compiled by some of her friends (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Ocean Tree Books, 1994), p. 27. 24 See P.A. Augustine, "On a Pilgrimage to Rampur," Vidyajyoti Journal, March 2001, pp. 205-213. ~s See Mary Anne Foley CND, "Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition," Review for Religious 60, no. 1 (lanuary-February 2001): 53-57. Straggler Because he was youngest, his gift ranked least among the others, last of the lambing. But somewhere between the start of his journey and its final stretch he'd lost the creature, himself lost as well. Then he followed the star, as told, so stumbled upon the stable by accident, or design, call it what you will. Afraid, empty-handed, embarrassed, yet drawn to the manger, he knelt, close as a whisper. "I lost my gift." The Babe's mother, softly, "No, child, yours is best of all." Leonard Cochran OP November-December 2001 MARIE BEHA On the Seventh Day God Rested spiritual directions Maybe God rested (Gn 2:3), but we cannot. God could afford to rest; after all, creation was finished and "it was very good," but we rarely experience the luxury of seeing our work completed or of feeling satisfied with it. So we find Sabbath observance hard, whether it is the day of rest at the end of our work week or those mini- Sabbaths that occur naturally in our lives. Our tendency to fill all these times makes them anything but restful, even though it seems that resting should be at the heart of Sabbath observance, our own as well as God's. Sabbath Fillers Mmost any "thing" will do to fill up Sabbath time and minimize rest: work left over from the previous week, or getting ahead on the week to come. Fun and games can keep us busy. "Good works," everything from returning phone calls (or catching up with email, as though that were possible) to a frantic round of visiting sick relatives or neighbors, fill in the hours. Even an overload of required worship can make Sabbath more a burden than a rest. Marie Beha OSC writes from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Revie'w for Religious So, you ask, what is a person to do? The problem with all of the above is not with the what but with the why and bow of our doing. The need for accomplishment that motivates us is revealed in the satisfied but weary sigh that accompanies our Sunday evening summation: "I really got a lot done this weekend" or the equally tired but dissatisfied confession "My to-do list is as long as ever." Why are we so driven to do? Too often we fill our days, including our Sundays, to fill ourselves. No wonder there are never enough hours in the week. "Resting" risks having to face the reveal-ing silence, the emptiness inside. So we hurry on, stuffing every day, including the Sabbath, with self-satisfying work. Even our worship can be performance oriented. What does "We had such a good liturgy this morning!" really mean? Are our criteria the spirited music, the well-delivered homily, and the smooth flow of the service--or being moved to heartfelt prayer and challenged to genuine interior conversion? Hopefully, the music and the homily prepare the way for "worship in spirit and truth" On 4:24), but they may simply leave us entertained and content. Worship can become crowded as though more equals better. When that is the case, we can hardly expect to "rest secure" (Ps 16:9). Nor can we if haste to have it finished clocks our obser-vance. Shortening periods of silence in order to get through our quota of prayers is anything but worshipful. The pace of our performance, in liturgy or elsewhere, may also keep us "worried and distracted by many things" (Lk 10:41). We are still meeting deadlines, even when being together is itself the goal. Family time has to be scheduled with the precision of airport takeoffs and land-ings, surface activity substituting for person.al relationships. Though we are together, we do not allow ourselves opportunity to really enjoy each other, much less become intimate. Scheduling every moment, hurrying through one activity to begin the next before the first is really completed, all adds up to workday pressure. Though we are weary, it seems we cannot stop or slow down. Our attempts at relaxation only add more stress. Even our sleeping late is restless. So we come to the end of our Sabbath lacking any sense of re-creation. The motivation for such crowding and overscheduling of even leisure time has a lot to do with our self-image, Which stems from our deeply felt need to see ourselves as creative achievers. God has no such need and so can rest, and asks us to begin to do the same. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Rested Becoming a Sabbath People But you say, "I know all this, know it too well. What I don't understand is howto keep the Sabbath holy" (Dr 5:12). Rather than insisting on utterly severe limitations of activity on the Sabbath, as some Pharisees in the Gospels seem to have done, our recent Catechism (§2185) says nothing about "servile work"; it simply says we should "refrain from . . . work or activities that hinder the worship owed to God, the joy proper to the Lord's Day, the performance of the works of mercy, and the appropriate relax-ation of mind and body." Especially for the many of us who do almost no manual (or "servile") work on weekdays, spading in the garden may be a wonderful thing to do on Sundays. Churchgoing is not supposed to be the only activity that makes the seventh day special, though some neglect even this. For those who do partic-ipate in Sunday worship, however, it may become just one more item packed into a hectic weekend schedule. After it, we may feel permitted to spend the remainder of the day on ourselves--and then squander it on hecticness that neither praises God nor refreshes us. And that is precisely the problem with much of our Sabbath observance. This is God's day. Like God, we are to work most days at cre-ating this world, making a garden of it, if you will. But also, like God, we are to rest from our labor one day and so gain something of the divine perspective. Work is meant to predominate since this is the way our world takes form and shape--and we ourselves are likewise formed by that very shaping. Through work we become what we are meant to be: responsible cocreators of this beautiful world of ours. Made from this earth, we are called to care for it, to be nourished by it, and in the end to return to it. But there is more to our human vocation than this. Though made from the earth, of the earth, we are ultimately from and for God. Sabbath observance rhythmically registers this reality of human existence in our lives. Between this week's labor and the next, we stop and look up. Like God, we rest. Although our Sabbath observance is brief and limited, it is there to prevent our being worn down by the activity needed to work out our salvation. Sabbath prepares us for an eternal rest when our work will be complete and our being-with-God just begun. The original commandment, "Keep holy the Sabbath," is the third commandment, after those forbidding worship of false gods and taking God's name in vain, All three put us in the context of Review for Religious God's original covenant with his chosen people. Observing these commandments is our covenantal response. More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. Since we are God's people, we need to be holy as God is holy, working and resting as God does. Observing the Sabbath forms us into the divine image, helping us realize our identity as individuals and as a people. Why did God rest on the seventh day? To enjoy the goodness of that wondrous creation. We do the same. Enjoyment, part of our human capacity for contemplation, moves us beyond the every-day criteria of use and usefulness. All too often, when we experience something new, our question "What's this?" is followed at once by "What's it good for?" Sabbath offers us a respite from such a utilitarian viewpoint; it gives us an opportunity to affirm reality as good in itself. We receive it as a divine gift, even before we discover whether if fits into our schema of things. We appreciate its beauty, even if it is not to our taste. We accept its truth without need to compre-hend, much less control, its mystery. Besides deepening our capacity for appreciation, Sabbath leisure forms us into a free people. Originally a way for the Jewish people to celebrate their liberation from Egypt's oppres-sion, it can open us to similar possibilities. We are not meant to be slave laborers, nor to enslave others to relentless productivity. Stepping back from what we do six days a week enables us to see where we are oppressed, where we may be oppressors. In the leisure that this seventh day provides, we are free to ask ourselves what we would like to do if we had the time. What would re-create us? No matter if our answers would require more demanding activity than our everyday work; perhaps that is what we would find renewing. After being tied all week to a desk, we may really enjoy discovering and using our bodies at least one day a week. Professionals may relax in an activity that allows them the leisure to be rank amateurs, while people whose everyday is dull or dreary discover their potential as "professional" chefs or musicians. Seeing each other in more creative ways keeps us open to the surprises that lie untapped in the hearts of us all. Someone who lacks both time and talent for learning to play music well can still More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Re, ted enjoy the creativity of a less-than-professional performance. Attempting portrait painting may not produce a recognizable like-ness, much less something that can be sold, yet it can fill someone's need for self-expression. Sabbath Free Time The Sabbath also provides us with "free time," allowing us to "waste" some of it. For productive Americans the mere phrase "wasting time" sounds vaguely immoral, even though time is a giJ~. We cannot earn even a single additional day of life, nor are we billed for the ones we have received. Sabbath observance opens us to the possibility of"doing nothing." Even a brief period given over to deliberate inactivity can, if nothing else, show us how enslaved we have become to filling time. When not doing some-thing useful, we feel threatened by nonexistence: what are we good for? Doing nothing translates readily into being nothing; that is why it is painful, at least at first. But, with patient practice and a willingness to go below surface unease, we can discover a deepening quiet underneath all our activity. As with a swiftly moving river, there is a silence inside that is full of life and awaits the exploration of our doing nothing. Enjoying what is, being free to do something nonproductive that in fact re-creates us, can be forms of Sabbath worship for us creatures as we learn who we are and why we were made. Personal relationships require a certain spaciousness, and this is true of our friendship with God. On the Sabbath we and God spend time together. Sometimes we talk or argue, sometimes we are simply together in comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but we are together. That is what matters. That is the heart of any obser-vance of the Sabbath. And those observances are multiple. Seventh-day observance is paradigmatic but not exhaustive. We can expand one day to a week of R and R: rest, recuperation, or retreat. Or, and this is more common, we can compress Sabbath-like observances to take advantage of moments of free time that open up in any day or that we build into it. The former include snippets of time we often vainly fret away: when the elevator takes forever to arrive, when the answering machine advises us to "hold" until the "next available operator" responds, or when the receptionist explains that "the doctor is running l~te today." Also, we can choose to sit quietly Review for Religious on the side of our bed when we first awaken, we can stretch quietly during a long morning at the computer, we can take a breath of morning air as we walk to the car. All of these can be pieces of Sabbath rest. They can break into our everydayness, much as seventh days interrupt the steady pace of work weeks. They can refresh us. Or they can be uneasy gaps we hasten to fill with nervous activity. How else explain doodling on telephone pads, tapping our feet, consulting our watch at fifteen-second intervals, or rushing our moments of transition. Using Sabbath Leisure Well Taking advantage of all the Sabbath times in our lives requires creative discipline. One suggestion: that we follow the traffic direc-tive "Be prepared to stop." Be ready to allow the seventh day--and the small intervals that force themselves into our best-planned days-- to evoke in us a willingness to surrender to something, to Someone, beyond our own self-interest. Willingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. The capacity for such transcendence demands life-long discipline, a way of living that includes. Sabbath observance. Preparation for Sunday's resting in the Lord begins when Saturday makes some change in our everyday routine. Though the day itself may well be packed full, it can hold its own refreshment, the peace and joy of taking care of things we had to put off earlier in the week. The danger is that "things to do" can take on a life of their own and invade our Sabbath time. Setting some time limits and then prioritizing what most needs to be done is one way of extending Sabbath observance to the vigil. Another is to include in this day of preparation something we like to do, something we look forward to doing: perhaps a special supper menu, a phone visit with a friend, a more leisurely bath, some quiet time before going to bed. The endless possibilities need only be tailored to our own preference. Fruitful observance of the Sabbath itself, like the great com-mandments of loving God, neighbor, and self, revolves around worship, reaching out to others, and re-creative leisure. As we Wil,tingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. November-December 2001 Beba * On the Seventh Da~ God Rested know only too well, these will not happen unless we are prepared to make them happen. Time for worship is probably the easiest of these to schedule, but we still need careful planning lest we end up in such a rush that we spend most of the service becoming quiet enough to worship. Of course, if some truly unforeseen great need comes into our life, we worship by responding to that need. But on most weekends we can prepare for worship at least as carefully as we would for any other important appointment. If a scheduled meeting with an employer requires some attention to appearance and promptness and some thought preparation, worship of our God surely merits the same. Once the time for communal worship has been determined, the rest of the day can revolve around it. How begin our Sabbath day in such a way as to open our heart more fully to God? A slower start, a long shower, a more leisurely breakfast, not only make this day special but also quiet our restlessness, enabling us to be more present in worship. Getting outside for some early morning exercise can do the same, while some silent reflection may help others to change pace and be ready for prayer. Getting to church in ample time seems a necessity if weekday patterns are to be converted into Sabbath stillness. Letting the drivenness, competition, and workday worry fall away prepares our heads as well as our hearts to "hear the word of the Lord" (Is 1:10). Even an unsuccessful effort to attain inner peace and quiet is a form of worship. We are trying to give God's time back to God. Coming into God's presence along with others reminds us that all our worship is communal. We join with others, not only those with whom we immediately share sacred space this week, but all the people of God gathered for worship, observing their Sabbaths on Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Sons and daughters of God, we are all children of Abraham as well, our core unity greater than our all too apparent diversity. Gathering in a common worship space lets us take these theological realities and translate them into practical charity. What begins with the community of worship can flow out to a much wider world or can be focused on care of a family member or a needy neighbor next door. Because we do this together, our charity becomes expansive and yet not abstract. We are reminded of needs that we ourselves may never have experienced or been exposed to, and we are challenged not to forget the small service Review for Religious that has no glamour and wins no notice. In both cases we are stretched beyond ourselves, an attitude basic to any true worship. A third element in our Sabbath observance is leisure, some rest, an opportunity to be made new in re-creation. Unless given some thought, all our Sabbath time can disappear in the more evi-dent good works of prayer and care for others. But a leisure that renews us is basic to true love of God and of others. Something we really enjoy needs to be included in our Sabbath observance if we are to be faithful to a Creator God who first saw that everything was good and then rested in that joy. So Sabbath observance includes time to just be, to play in the world, to enjoy the good-ness that God has made. Our rest is worshipful because it is filled with the truth that this is God's world wrapped in God's care. Sabbath beyond the Sabbath Other Sabbaths beyond seventh-day observance are three-day weekends, full weeks of retreat, and full sabbaticals every seventh year. Smaller Sabbaths can occur at intervals on ordinary days. All of these can contribute to forming us into people of the Sabbath, people who are free and not slaves to what we do. We are wor-shipers in what we do for God, for others, and even for ourselves. Our day can begin with a personal offering of our day to God along with our getting out of bed. It can end with a night prayer that is part of our stretching out in bed and getting comfortable for sleep. What is important is a habit of praying that, over time, becomes worshipful living. Willingness to expose ourselves to worldwide concerns is part of our everyday Sabbath observance. Ordinary caring for others on ordinary days opens our hearts, making more room for God in our life as we do on our Sundays. Sabbath observance is not a narrowing of our lives. It is a grand and glorious expansion that is an image of eternity. -50! November-December 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Where Your Heart Is Adrug pusher in prison said that he well understood the evil effects of drugs, but if he left prison tomorrow the temptation to go back to drugs would be irresistible. He knew of no other way where so much money could be made so easily. He had neith'er the skills nor the connections to obtain a similar lifestyle any other way. A young merchant seaman on shore leave in his home port said that, each rime he d6cked and met his friends, he noticed that their lifestyles had progressed to levels.he could never hope to reach, no matter how hard he worked. They too dealt in drugs. For these and others, the attraction of a lifestyle for self and family funded by illicit drugs almost overwhelmed the power of reason, community feeling, or the gospel to offer something better. Famine of God's Word Many people growing up in our postmodern climate assume that there is no such thing as objective truth; that, even if there is, it is beyond our reach. There was a time when people assumed that reason ruled, or at least could provide us with a guide to life for the benefit of all. Two world wars later, the cruelty of various civil wars and the unavoidable evidence of global human suffering have shown that confidence in reason alone is misplaced. Even the rocketing progress of technology, with its potential for Donald Macdonald SMM writes again from Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious good, has a number of self-destruct buttons, one or other of which someone is sure to press. The many forms of the media offer access to much that is good, but may also expose us to what is bad or sadly deficient. Western Christians, for example, are aware that a good many writers and producers of television seem to hold that any reverent mention of God is nonsense, and that it is open season for attack-ing the Catholic Church. There are many occasions for people, especially young people, to be misled or bewildered. If this assess-ment is accurate, that does not mean that people cannot avoid being hypnotized or depressed by it all. There is a blunt alterna-tive in the invitation to accept the challenge to "repent and to believe in the gospel" (Mk 1:15). It is crucial that those blessed with the gift of faith understand this as a viable alternative or, better, that, with the confidence of the early church, they give themselves to it as "The Way." ¯ Otherwise, time and energy will be wasted in a possibly dispirited response to what are judged to be the ills of society. To react forever and not initiate risks clouding Ourselves in perpetual negativity. The seemingly omnipotent secular battalions set the agenda, and Christians hurry to set some defenses up, almost breathless in a sadly polluted atmosphere. "Repent".has a 19th-century ring to it and, on that assump-tion, may be dismissed by those who thoroughly accept contem-porary culture. It is, in fact, a call to change our minds, to turn from being self-centered, to open ourselves to the will and guidance of God. It is a dynamic challenge, not a static ruefulness, and it offers a new perspective on life. It may so take hold of us that we become "a living sacrifice," giving ourselves completely to God in response to the wonder of God giving himself to us in Christ (see Rm 12:1-2). Whether it be "us" or "them," Christian tradition recognizes the seed of sin in everyone. It is not the whole picture, but it has its effect on human behavior. Cardinal Newman found "the being of God [to be] as certain to me as the certainty of my own existence." Regarding the society of his day, he said, "There I see a sight which fills me with unspeakable distress., the defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental anguish, the preva-lence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the corrup-tions, the dreary hopeless irreligion . [All of this] inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound mystery, which is absolutely November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is beyond human solution . Either there is no Creator, or this living society., is in a true sense discarded from his presence." 1 Each category he mentions can be documented today--and perhaps the personal distress, too. Newman famously concluded that, "if there be a God, since there is a God, the human race is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity. It is out of joint with the purposes of its Creator.''2 The call to "repent and to believe" is the way out of this morass. "Bad religion" will not do it, and numbers of people have been hurt by it. But before so much hurt and "the dreary hopeless irreligion," with its miasmic presence stunting so much growth, the authentic way of Jesus Christ can guide us. This is the path religious walk on the jour-ney to God. The challenge is as insistent today as it was for the 1st or the 19th century; our century, like earlier ones, needs to hear the Good News. Pope John Paul said recently: "Even in countries evan-gelized many centuries ago, the reality of a 'Christian society' which . . . measured itself explicitly on gospel values is now gone. Today we must courageously face a situation which is becoming increasingly diversified and demanding" (§40).3 The church und.erstandably tries to come to terms with chang-ing structures in the contemporary world. Religious are often sad-dled with plant and too few personnel. Time and energy go into dismantling the structures, with pain to people and religious who have grown up seeing them as part of themselves. For many, this appears a sunset with nothing but darkness ahead to bury a once lively hope. But what if it indicates sunrise and the possibility of a graced opportunity to walk in newness of life, alive to God in Christ Jesus? Approach the Word To be open to thatl "we must rekindle in ourselves the impetus of the beginnings and allow ourselves to be filled with the ardor of the apostolic preaching" (§40). The zeal forming the church in the beginning came from the experienced presence of the Spirit of our risen Loi-d. To view the contemporary from within that perspective is to find ourselves with Someone who faced all that life could do to him, including crucifixion in his mother's presence, and who is alive with us today. Faced by contemporary relativism in a consequently fragmented society, Christians and Review for Religious especially religious would have so much more to offer, and so much more for themselves to believe in, if they realized that "holiness, a message that convinces without need for words, is the living reflection of the face of Christ" (§7). Familiarity with the authen-tic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively, as our faith is rekindled by who we see in the Gospel. It may then be impossible not to want to share what we have seen and heard. A glance at the Lukan Jerusalem journey (Lk 9:51-19:28) may help us glimpse something of the world of the early church, where the odds against Christians con-tin- uing to exist and influence society were immeasurably greater than anything we face. St. Luke's account begins with a thrice-repeated warning to consider where accompa-nying Jesus may lead, since "[Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem" and Samaritan villagers refused him hospitality "because his face was set toward Jerusalem" (9:51, 53). This is serious, not a day trip to the beach. The ostensibly encouraging "I will follow you wherever you go" (9:57) was not met with open arms by Jesus, but by a sharp warning to the individual to examine every syllable and consider what he meant. Does he really intend to volunteer for the same insecurity as his Leader, "the Son of Man [with] nowhere to lay his head" (9:58)? To come with Jesus may mean finding himself left like a leaf in a gutter--does he really want that? Another was bluntly told that commitment to Jesus comes before all family obligations: "Let the dead bury their own dead. ¯ . . You go and proclaim the kingdom of God" (9:60). Another would-be follower said he Would come, "but let me first say farewell to those at my home" (9:61). Jesus would leave by the time he came back, he was told; come now or not at all. The call is for mature persons who, once they have put hand to the 'plow, never look back. The humane pastoral concern of the Lukan Gospel is evident here in view of what happened at journey's end. No doubt this pattern was repeated time and again in the early years of the church. St. Luke's experience led him to believe that, while attrac-tion to Jesus is wonderful, it must include a realistic appraisal of what this means. We need to face ourselves as we face Christ; we Fami!iarity with the authentic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is must engage in true discernment. If Jesus himself "set his face," steeling himself to stay at one with his Father's will, would-be fol- ¯ lowers can do no less on the journey, unless they come as specta-tors and not companions. Fidelity to God's will as the guide to life is a daily and life-long challenge: "I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside Jerusalem" (13:33). Jesus had to face his greatest challenge, one that would cost him his life. He did so after thoughtful reflec-tion, not as a witless victim. In the light of experience, he honestly asks no less of us. Later on the journey, at a time when "large crowds were traveling with him" (14:25), the message is reinforced as Jesus asks them why they are there: "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father arid mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (14:25-26). Even while noting that Hebrew has no word for prefer, we get the point. Every natural and rational tie must take second place to the gift of myself to Christ. This is not meant to put people off. It asks us to consider seriously what we undertake if we accompany Jesus. We will always have Jesus, but perhaps at the cost of losing much else and, as it may appear, Jesus as we would want him to be. How much are we prepared to pay for that? We are asked to really consider this as we look to give ourselves to the gospel challenge. Our attraction to Jesus has to be constant and compelling if we are to genuinely repent and believe in him. Realistic Lukan pastoral care has Jesus ask yet again for mature thought about what it means to accompany him through life: "Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise . . . not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him" (14:28-29). A second parable suggests pondering the consequences of going to war with ten thousand against an oppo-nent who has twenty thousand (14:3 i). This reflects the almost unbearable concern of Jesus and the evangelist, who have journeyed together and know the implica-tions of accepting the invitation to come with them. The verses . immediately before and after these challenging parables tell us why: "whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple . . . so, therefore, none of you can be my Review for Religious disciple if you do not give up all your possessions" (14:27, 33). The rest is surely silence, with mature prayer, reflection, and advice to help us see where we go from here.4 The Power of the Word Bearing one's cross is both a superb challenge and practical advice in view of the implications of accompanying Jesus. Even at first reading, we pick up the implied heroism, the need for great courage and strength. Yet, on gospel evidence, Jesus' closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. There is, then, something attainable here. We should not put the challenge on the shelf as an impossible ideal. There is never a suggestion that it is a mistake to accompany Jesus. There must be something superlatively attractive in the per-son of Jesus that enables his disciples to hear such a challenge and actually take it up. The desire to understand how that enablement works is reason for opening our-selves to God's Word in Scripture. This is what was done at the beginning of monastic and reli-gious life. The desert fathers and mothers wanted to know from experience what it meant to leave all for Jesus, to accept the Sermon on the Mount's challenge to live without cares in the freedom promised by the gospel. Scripture helped them make the attempt and persevere. They and their contemporaries saw how Scripture's power could form them into people who have nothing as the world would understand it, yet were themselves rich in the currency of the gospel and able to make others similarly rich. They were truly influential people. The gospel, finding lodging in individual hearts, made for intimacy with God and love for others. As subsequent centuries learned, time given to Scripture, and to the Spirit of our risen Lord found therein, can make abounding love for others available to us too. Disciplined daily reading--allowing the words to register with us, and gently persuading us that we are hearing them for the first time--can transfigure us too. We need such transfiguring to approach a Lukan conclusion: "So, therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple" (14:33). Jesus" closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ [~here Your Heart Is Nearer our time, that challenge was taken up by Charles de Foucauld, and his life is yet another proof of the transforming power of the word. He took the challenge of the Jerusalem jour-ney to heart. A religious, photocopying his "self-offering," offered me copies to send to friends. The gothic lettering was beautiful, but as I read it I wondered whether I had the courage to keep a copy beside me, much less send one to others. It reads in part: "Father, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me what-you will. Whatever you may do, I 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, O Lord. to surrender myself into your hands without reserve, and with confidence beyond all question-ing, because you are my Father." Here are the terms of acceptance for accompanying Jesus on the journey through life. To invoke the prayer and patronage of such a man in Christ and, if I dare, to keep his self-dedication where I can see it--these things can help me join others on the Jerusalem journey. They can lead me to the sources that fed him. They are necessary in a world where so much competes for my self. Jesus on the Jerusalem journey points out that the heart may not be left empty. Even when all that is evil is forced from the heart, evil may return with immense power and bring "seven other spirits more evil than itself.and the last state of that person is worse thanthe first" (11:26). The evangelists, ~e fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and others can only encourage us to open our hearts to the power that made them mirrors of the gospel. With this shared enthusiasm for God in Christ continually fed by what we see in them, we in turn become faithful members of the company of Jesus. This is not for everyone, but it may be for us. Among the obstacles to accompanying Jesus as sketched in the Jerusalem journey is the risk of having a divided heart. Pressure to back away, to be close but not too close to Jesus, is always .there in one form or another. While it helps to steep ourselves in the gospel and invite the influence of those who clearly live for God alone in Christ, we must also try to live simply and so nourish detachment from everything but God's will. The less clutter around us, the freer are we to give ourselves to what w~ are asked. Often, tO want something is to get it. We get into a car, pick up a phone, write a check, press a key, or ask for it--and presently we have it. This is not true for vast tracts of the world, but it is true for much of it; and, given the chance, most people on every con- Review for Religious tinent seem to want to live like that. Religious professedly "poor in fact and spirit" share that same humanity. Because of this human tendency to acquire, they need constant vigilance, personal disci-pline, and continually renewed motivation in order to accompany Jesus on his gospel journey. Our circumstances need to reflect the authentic gospel challenge. Otherwise, despite our intent the cri-teria offered by the Lukan Jerusalem journey will seem an impos-sible ideal--the sort of ideal someone had in mind when saying archly that, with the Ten Commandments, "as in any examina-tion, only five need be attempted." Without the insight of faith, our postmodern environmental circumstances are likely to keep sug-gesting a "more reasonable" way of life, and we are likely to accept it unthinkingly. The chapel of a religious community, open on Sunday for Mass to a hundred or so people, presented a stark picture during Lent. The crucifix and statues were covered. A large swathe of purple material across the front of the altar ended in a symbolically overturned chalice. The lecterns from where Scripture was read and the gospel preached were engulfed in purple. The branches of a leafless tree reached up and out from its purpled-wrapped trunk. To the visitor it said that for this community Lent really meant something. Something has happened here. For the people wor-shiping here on Sunday, if the words spoken were at one with the setting, they could scarcely be less than disturbing. If, however, the religious community's life were at one with those words and those symbols, people attending would receive sufficient support and encouragement. The chapel inside the house, however, where the community prayed and worshiped with a few people during the week, was rather differe.nt. There was no suggestion of purple, aridity, or stark challenge in the folksy, chatty chapel. It was, in a word, domestic. There was no provision, no place, for a moment of pri-vacy in which individuals might face themselves before God; the chairs around the orange carpet formed a square with the altar, and people spoke and laughed easily across the space. A visitor asked how the community could issue so sharp a statement to people coming on Sunday from the pressures of their postmodern environment, and yet offer so little challenge in the chapel where they themselves were at home. They may have spent the night in prayer, dined on bread and water, and been selfless in serving the poor, but the climate they chose for themselves for November-December 2001 Macdonald * Where Your Heart Is addressed and told to consider whether we can leave everything, even life itself, to accompany Jesus. worship and prayer did not suggest that. The Sunday chapel may have been a liturgical or catechetical visual-aid for others; but, if they were to accompany their Lord to Jerusalem's summit, much more than a public gesture was necessary. It might be a good idea to have a framed copy of Charles de Foucauld's "dedication" in both chapels, but, for us and others to glimpse the simplicity of what he saw, we need to recognize that environment and appro-priate symbols matter, that we must make special efforts to free ourselves from many assumptions of contemporary society. Unless we do this, an easy acceptance of what we see around us in matters of lifestyle, furnishings, and aspirations will inevitably lead us into a certain secularity. Earlier history and the evidence of the last thirty years surely make that point incontrovertible. There can be no objective and globally acceptable standard here, but, for people who think of accepting the blunt challenge of the Jerusalem journey, surroundings do matter. One by one we are addressed and told to consider whether we can leave every-thing, even life itself, to accompany OFle by oFle we are Jesus. As ever, the situation is made plain in the Lukan approach: "Go on your way. I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no. purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. What-ever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house'" (10:3-5). Our sole security lies in being with Jesus, but, for such security to be ours, we must leave much else on which people around us reasonably rely. To behave differently we must see other than they do. In our dedication to the gospel, we scarcely have time for normal civilities, and yet we frequently offer the gift of peace and expect our words to have effect. We must accompany our risen Lord closely to function like that. Even if we sometimes see bringing some peace as a short-term mission, the effort may still be a weighty burden, and one that is clearly related to the rest of the Jerusalem journey. If our following of Jesus occurs in "the real world" (where being a lamb among wolves argues no future and scarcely any pre-sent), temptations to go through a gap in the hedge for a respite from the effort of keeping close to Jesus will inevitably occur. Lukan pastoral care admits as much: "Whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God" (12:8-9). On arriv-ing in Jerusalem, the disciples collapsed under the pressure and did deny Jesus. In a postmodern world, we too are frail human beings, and the pressure to distance ourselves from him, not least by a more "reasonable" lifestyle, will always be there. To prevent this, we need to know where our real wealth is. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (12:34). Jesus' answer to the rich young man's question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" left him sad, "for he had great possessions" (18:18, 22) and his heart was not as close to Jesus as he had sup-posed. "Jesus looking at him said, 'How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God. For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle" (18:24-25). Money and the power it brings opens most doors here on earth, but Jesus makes it unmistakably plain that it cannot buy anyone's way into his company. But for the grace of God, it would perhaps be an insuperable obstacle. Delight in the Word Inviting and challenging, Jesus looks at us too. He wants our company so much that he has risen from a grave to enable us to enter into his kingdom. There is a personal.relationship here. Intimacy with God and living at one with God's will, these are what living life to the full means. Here is human purpose, and our purpose. "Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants . All things have been handed over to me by my .Father" (10:21-22). These words are spoken after the disciples' excited return from venturing out among the people supported only by trust in Jesus' word. Now they know from experience something of the possibilities and power of his message. Many others who seem better placed than they to understand do not know what the disciples know. Jesus is ecstatic. "Thrilled with joy in the Holy Spirit," he looks in wonder at these "infants" who were coming to know him and his Father. On our journey you and I ake in the company of our risen Lord; we. are not isolated strangers at a bus stop waiting for something to turn up. We should be full of wonder at who we are November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is and what we have in Christ, and never take our identity primarily from people lacking the insight of faith. In Christ, who has "given you authority., over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will hurt you" (10:19), Satanic power can be successfully challenged. "Then, turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them privately, 'Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! . . . many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it'" (10:2,3-24). Like John the Baptist, these people, for all their insight, could only prepare for or point to what the disciples were enjoying from within the company of Jesus. To those outside that company, his parables and teaching might be helpful stories to take or leave; but, for the "infants" around Jesus; these words reached both mind and heart and helped form their consciences as guides to life. There is much more for us to see if we "infants" develop genuine receptivity to and then realization of the gift of God in the risen Christ. Insofar as the wonder of that gift is ours, we will have the "stick-to-itive-ness," courage, and conviction to share .it with others on the jour-ney. We know that We are treasured by our risen Lord, and so we come to treasure him. He is where our heart is! For perhaps significant numbers of religious and would-be religious, it is asking too much to make more that a notional con-nection between words then and work now. The biblical word is respected, but even in generally literate societies words do not always communicate in depth, often because there are just too many of them to hold our attention. Yet, to this day in the his-tory of the church and consecrated life, Scripture has had an intrin-sic power which people have felt and which has energized for God some of the greatest evangelical witnesses. A contemporary vade mecum of consecrated life--P~'ta conse-crata-- points to Scripture as "the first source of all Christian spir-ituality." There is undoubtedly a wider awareness of this in recent .decades, but we may have some way to go before all of us have the view that "the primacy of holiness and prayer is inconceivable without a renewed listening to the word of God, . . . a life-giving encounter., which draws from the biblical text the living word which questions, directs, and shapes our lives" (§39). Only some-one like the Holy Father, speaking from experience of that back-ground and also very aware of the contemporary challenge to the gospel, could be convinced that, while "we do not know what the new millennium has in store for us,., we are certain that it is safe Revie't.v for Religious in the hands of Christ." (§35). The Lukan Jerusalem journey, approached from within that mindset, would produce a like conviction. Pope John Paul saw the pilgrims in Rome for Jubilee 2000 as representative of so many others, each individual reflecting "the story of someone whom Christ had met, and who in dialogue with him was setting out again on a journey of hope" (§8). As an older brother, perhaps, on the journey, he has learned from experience that, "if Christ is presented to young people as he really is, they experience him as an answer that is convincing and they can accept his message, even when it is demanding and bears the mark of the cross" (§9). This is why he does not hesitate to challenge and call on them "to make a radical choice of faith and life., a stupen-dous task; to become 'morning watchmen' (Is 21:11-12) at the dawn of the new millennium" (§9). Consecrated people, glimpsing Christ "as he really is" from the Gospel pages, might feel called to respond to that same challenge as they journey together, eager to share their delight in their risen Lord. "Remaining firmly anchored in Scripture, we open ourselves to the action of the Spirit" (§17), and who can say where that may lead us? Notes t John Henry Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua (Longmans Green, 1890), p. 241. 2 Newman, Apologia, p. 242. 3 John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Novo Millennio Ineunte, Rome, 6 January 2001. Numbers here and subsequently refer to paragraphs. 4 Walter J. Ciszek sJ, He Leadeth Me, repays rereading for an appre-ciation of faith today. through/be ~do~n! ~nd Cbri~tmo~ t~ b/~6~ing~ of ~oat'~ ~nt~dng into $ia creation in November-December 2001 church and MARIE BRINKMAN Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ ministry To search in the past for signs of a viable future for reli-gious women's communities is to reverse the usual order of things, but that is what I intend. I offer a rationale for searching there. I seek, however, not criteria for esti-mating outcomes of change, but rather the foundation made up of sisters' lives which itself takes the measure of other criteria and thus provides the framework for wise discernment. The dawn of a new millennium suggests radical change, much of it underway, yet brings from some quarters hints of probable demise. We know that, for the authors of the many articles and books on the present situation of religious men and women, the good of God's people is the primary concern. And we well know that, if religious communities are to survive, they will do so in response to that people's need and in fidelity to the gospel, particularly its radical counsels. These are any century's religious foundations and the basis for all reform and renewal. But, in the life of religious communities of women, what in particular urges their Marie Brinkman SCL presented this paper at the History of Women Religious Conference at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in June 2001. She is a professor at Saint Mary College; 4100 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 6604-8. Review for Religious continuance? What characteristics should serve as norms for appropriate change, in the face of diminishing numbers, advancing median ages, and increasing opportunities for minis-tering to God's people in lay and secular life? In her hopeful assessment of a third-millennial future for women religious, Jo Ann Kay McNamara observes that sisters from the "young" African and Asian churches "are already in the process of changing their worlds as their foremothers in the West did for so many centuries." And she foresees "a larger global sisterhood" in which religious women of the West will revise their institutions and women of all cultures will devise new forms of rule, commu-nity, and ministry (pp. 643-644). Ways of envisioning and shaping such inevitabilities are what we must seek. In this regard Joel Giallanza csc asserts that "the quality and integrity of religious life as a sign of unity in the church for the future is direcdy related to the quality and integrity which religious life embodies today" (pp. 468-469). That quality and integrity must inform any criteria for discerning constructive change in community and ministry. When communities, particularly apostolic ones, revisit their charism (as Vatican documents on religious life have urged) and when they engage laypersons as associates (communal or profes-sional) in the realization of that charism, even in these charted waters they run risks described by Francis W. Danella OSFS. While believing that "efforts to recapture the spirit of the foundation have been the singularly most hopeful development in religious life since the council" (p. 266), Danella cites a major risk, that of failure to integrate individual needs and community priorities, personal growth and the common good. We might well add that it is a risk rooted in human nature that has become greater in the last three decades. It takes subtle forms that only habitual and rigorous spiritual discernment at every level of decision making and leadership can recognize. Mary Anne Foley CND, in her careful critique of two widely read works of the past decade, Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis and Quifionez and Turner's Transformation of ,4merican Catholic Sisters, asks for continuing dialogue between the polarized constituencies studied by these authors (pp. 342-357). She acknowledges serious inadequacies attending the documentation of their views, but is convinced that nonetheless the Spirit speaks to us through one another, within our diverse limitations. Her most significant obser- November-December 2001 Brinkman ¯ Criteria for Chan~e The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether personal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future. vation, I think, follows a statement that Christian men and women have for centuries linked their lives to God by means of vows. She adds: "They have done this not., primarily as a witness to oth-ers, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to themselves, they structure their lives around their rela-tionship to God" (my emphasis; pp. 351,356). She credits Edward Vacek sJ for the latter concept. Here we draw close to the source of continuity over two thousand years of religious commu-nity life, regardless of what reforms or renewals have attended it. The same source or cause will guarantee its contin-uance throughout another millennium. Michael Himes would call the source a radical poverty, an ultimate dependency that he says is "the key value in the vows" (p. 21). Joan Chittister would call it the ultimate commitment and radical atten-tiveness to the presence of God in every aspect of a vowed life. It is my contention, hardly'unique, that this centrality of God, this fact of personal relationship to God, realized and grasped as the origin and end of all resolve and purpose, and of all consequent rela-tionship and mission, is the efficacious cause of continuing life in religious com-munity. All change and adaptation, all forms of communal living and ministry that may develop, will be tested and must be evaluated by this criterion. But spiritual reality must take sensible form if it is to become a human measure of worth. As adaptations and innovations multiply, so do reports and projections. More significant are potentially prophetic voices that try to discern the Spirit in radical change and the reactions it pro-vokes. Few--scholars and prophets included--would presume to forecast the future with confidence. Some contemplate the end of our life as we have known it, or its evolution into confederations, syneisactic (Greek syneisdgein, to. bring in together) communities of mixed genders and terms of commitment, new monastic/apos- Review for Religious tolic arrangements, or vowed ministry within a church defined in nonhierarchical terms. The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether per-sonal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future--directions, in fact, so clear as to suggest qualities essential to the continuance and integrity of these women's communities. The limitation of aca-d

Issue 60.1 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Renewal Vocation Spiritual Legacy Empowerment JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 Review for Religious'helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness' ' ° by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow-from the cbarisms of Catbolic consecrated 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 ° V~reb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI 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. view 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 Elizfibeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adriafi Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bish6p Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 contents 6 renewal Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees A. Paul Dominic SJ relates the biblical notion of jubilee to the teaching of Jesus and the practice of the early church in order to point to ways that we might live the spirit of jubilee in our Christian life today. 20 A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia'~ James H. Kroeger MM shares the optimism and gratitude that pervade the apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia as he summarizes and evaluates its various chapters. 30 40 vocation Who Is a Brother? Philip Armstrong CSC traces the church reality of brothers through history to the present-day challenges. Vocational Being Donald Macdonald SMM stresses that, if we Christians need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then Scripture provides the practical means to make our own this perspective of faith. 2j Review for Religious 48 spiritual legacy Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition Mary Ann Foley CND traces the originality of the missionary spirituality of Marguerite Bourgeoys, drawing upon a varity of sources including the Ignatian tradition. 62 The 350th Anniversary of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ gives evidence that Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises are the inspiration and source of Jean-Pierre Mddaille's Maxims of Perfection, which contain the entire spirit of the foundational documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. 76 empowerment Till the End of My Days Agnes Cunningham SSCM identifies five factors that have proved helpful in her actively pursuing retirement. 80 Power Made Perfect in Weakness: Ministering to the Dying and Bereaved Laurel M. O'Neal offers a correction to our common misconceptions of death, its relation to sin, and especially the relation of God to death. departments 4 Prisms 99 Canonical Counsel: Conclusion of the Novitiate 105 Book Reviews January-February 2001 prisms Review for Religious cele-brates its sixtieth year of publication. Sixty years is not the milestone of the younger fifty or the more dra-matic one hundred. Of course, it is not in the same league as a millennium. But a sixty-year anniversary does present the occasion for a pause--a time for assess-ment, for evaluation, for celebration, for gratitude. We have so many of these "pauses" built into our ordinary life that we can forget how important their place is for the healthy living of life, including the spir-itual. The changing seasons of the year, with their cycles of growth and dormancy, present one rhythmic pattern observed in religious practices of people through the centuries. As we quantify the rhythm of a day into our minutes and hours and then measure fur-ther into days of a week and weeks of a month and months of a year, we are struck at how we humanly have built in so many pauses into ordinary living. As a matter of fact, we humans are not meant to be "energ-erizer bunnies" (as in a famous TV ad about a brand of battery) that just keep going and going, always doing more of the same. No, we are people who have waking and sleeping patterns, who enjoy times of work and of recreation, who seek out periods of solitude and of social interaction, who are marked by successes and failures and those many "gray-area" projects whose value remains unclear. We are meant to pause, to be a Review for Religious reflective people, because we are formed by the Bible--that very reflectively written account of God's dealings with his people. We have just been celebrating the biblical jubilee year as a divinely inspired pause. We Christians are a people who appre-ciate the flow of a liturgical year, with its celebratory pauses that bring home in ever new ways the key moments of our faith-life with God. Though there are these many natural and ecclesial pauses in our life, we seem to be unwilling to choose such a rhythm in our personal daily living. Both in our personal life and in our parish or community projects, we often do not take time to set and identify some intermediate goals. We rush on, instead of reflecting on what we have done up to this point, on what changes might be desirable, on how much gratitude we should have and express for all the cooperation we have received, and perhaps on what mistakes we have made and whose feelings we may have bruised. We Christians need to make time to reflect, to assess and celebrate and apologize, as our way of working with God. We need to choose to build this kind of pause into our day (like the Ignatian daily awareness examen) and into the works and projects we are busy on in concert with others. In commu-nity we need to choose to build in these pauses so that commu-nity life and community projects can make wise choices and avoid sad crises. If we choose to make "anniversary-like pauses" ordinary and so build them into our daily life, we will discover a power source that makes for a physically, psychologically, and spiritually healthy life. We have had our new year's celebration, pausing to ring out the millennium year of 2000 and to welcome the year of 2001. As we enter into this new year, perhaps we all need to look for timely occasions when we .can pause--to celebrate, to assess, to correct, to revitalize for the continuing effort. By such choices, we grow into being the reflective Christians God's word calls us to be. We meet God, in his gift of time to us, by pausing to appreciate it and use it well. David L. Fleming SJ Janualsv-February 2001 renewa A. PAUL DOMINIC Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees The celebration of any jubilee is necessarily public. It cannot be thought of except in social terms. Even in per-sonal jubilees, which are different from institutional jubilees, individual jubilarians do not make their jubilee a private affair; they invite their relations and friends to a celebration. In so doing almost all follow the unwrit-ten bourgeois rule of making their celebration an exclu-sive affair of their particular class and so upholding the social scale. When such segregated festivities are arranged by the rich (and not the poor, who anyway have nothing to celebrate because they have nothing to cele-brate with), they hurt even the rich, not just some other people, because they bring the burden of keeping up with the Joneses. The same thing happens, mutatis mutandis, in institutions and nations, with subtle but real harm to humanity. This is not a modern phenomenon but an old, unfortunate human one. Jesus saw it rampant among his people and ~ought to save them from bringing harm in this way to themselves and others. And so he did not think it unbecoming to tell his host during the meal to imagine another pattern of invitations, one that would break the tradition of inviting select persons or rich ones A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religious or relatives and instead invite particularly the poor and the hand-icapped (Lk 14:12-14). When he was thus breaking new ground in the matter of celebration, was he not inspired by the good news of jubilee that he had learned as a Jew from the Hebrew Scriptures in the bosom of his Hebrew family? Going Back to the Source of Jubilee The very word jubilee is biblical, with a specific religious con-notation of joy. Though it has come into secular parlance, all those who celebrate "jubilees," personal or institutional, would do well to be aware of the term's centuries-old wealth of meaning. The joy that is now associated with jubilees in the secular or religious worlds looks back on achievements of excellence, but the jubilee joy in biblical times looked forward to achievements still to come; also, it involved the whole of Hebrew society, without excluding any class. While all celebrated the jubilee, both the haves and the have-nots, they participated in it differently. The former were behind the whole celebration, promoting it, while the latter benefited from it. The promoters were concerned with building a promising future, not so much for themselves as for others, who unlike them had had a harrowing past of financial reverses. Who on earth could have had this joyful interest in others rather than themselves except God and God's faithful people? Hearing the cry of people who, perhaps even through their own fault, had lost their ancestral holdings and consequently their own rights of freedom and dignity, God would have the losers gain back their lost land and their very persons. As all land and all peo-ple belonged primarily to God, God would ordain a time of grace once every fifty years, when good, law-abiding persons would come forward and voluntarily restore to the unfortunates whatever the latter had lost to them even by way of fair deals. The very idea of people responding to God's call to selfless joy on behalf of the deprived will be effective only to the extent that it is appreciated for its inspire~t and sensible holiness. People will be most joyful in their jubilee only when they thoroughly accept that it is a holy thing for them and declare so (Lv 25:10 and 12). The biblical jubilee is all joy only when it is all holy. It is first and foremost holy and, as such, it cannot but be joyful. It is the holi-ness of the God of joy that makes for the joy of all his people, who are to be holy like him. January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond yubilee and Jublilees This causal link of holiness to joy in the celebration of jubilees cannot be emphasized too much. The joyous celebra-tion of jubilee enjoined in Leviticus 25:8-17 and 23-55 forms part of the Law of Holiness in Leviticus 17-27. The dynamics of jubilee should be understood in the light of the most important piece in the Law of Holiness: "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lv 19:2b). How is this orthodoxy of holiness to become, the orthopraxis of joy? This is a highly practical question even though there remains the theoretical question of how it is possible that our human nature can share in the nature of God, namely, holiness. Leviticus and the rest of the Bible have no use for such questions, but hand down in God's name ways of living that are pleasing to the very God of holiness and joy. With the stunning command to human beings to be holy, there came from God clear directions about how they were to deal with one another. He wanted his people to associate with each other in ways that included practi-cal concern for the poor and the weak and the handicapped so that they would not feel left out: When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. (Lv 19:9-10, emphasis added) This was a practical minimum test of the maximum law he enjoined on them of cultivating a loving disposition towards one another, abjuring grudges and hate (Lv 19:18-19). If people had lived in this original spirit of divinely ordained love, shown in personal dealings and shaped in concrete societal action, there would have been no urgency for such an institution as the jubilee. From the beginning, people did not abide by, but slid from, this ideal. To stem this slide and to set a minimum for the people to reach, God brought about the program of the sabbatical year (Lv 25:2-7). Its enactment, going back to the wake of the Exodus reads thus: For six years you shall sow your land and gather in its yield; but the seventh year you shall let it rest and lie fallow, so that the poor of your people may eat . (Ex 23:10-11, emphasis added) . Though no definite information is found in the Bible's his- Review for Religious torical books about how and how long the sabbatical law was observed,~ there is no denying that it was (see Ne 10:32 and 1 M 6:49-53), though not always (see 2 Ch 36:21). And that is why one may dare say--in this field there are as many opinions as scholars-- that the law was further developed to include remission of debts in favor of the poor and, what is more, to be generous to them. Aiming at abolishing poverty, the new law unambiguously said: If there is among you anyone in need . . do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, "The seventh year, the year of remission, is near," and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing . Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so. (Dt 15:7-10, emphasis added) Who could better this law? For all its beauty (if law can be said to be beautiful), who would want this kind of beauty for them-selves? Who would observe this beautiful law? Indeed, there may be people now who would question its very place in a legal corpus. Though this was presumably not the case then, still, given human nature, it would not be surprising if it was practiced in its violation rather than observance. For this reason, and with a view to getting people to observe the high ideal of the law, it was drastically changed with regard to the time of its enforcement. The new law, unlike the old, would come into force not every seven years as before, but every fifty years, heralding what came to be known as the jubilee year, called so after the instrument used for the announcement, namely, yobe! (Hebrew for trumpet). Though the sabbatical law was thus made less burdensome (one would not have had to observe it more than once in one's lifetime, given the biblical lifespan of eighty even for the. strong), still the jubilee law retained the essential burden of the previous laws, namely, reversing the trend of the rich becoming richer and the poor poorer. Its complete formulation specified four things. (1) People must allow all land to lie fallow, must live on what it pro-duces by itself and has been stored, and must share with others. (2) In selling and buying, the rich should not cheat and oppress the poor, taking advantage of their plight. (3) Those who have grown richer by buying other~' properties should freely restore them to their former owners. (4) Those who own Israelites as slaves January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond g~ubilee and j~ublilees (because in their poverty they sold themselves) have to honorably release them and their families. Was the mitigated law observed? While some scholars say that it does not seem it was ever observed,z others opine cautiously that the possibility of its having been observed in the beginning of the settlement in the Holy Land cannot be ruled OUt.3 Relying on the two applications of the jubilee law to specific situations (Lv 27:16-25 and Nm 36:1-12), we may presume that there indeed was a time when the law was in force and not a dead letter. Also, ¯ from the fact that the Greek Alexander and the Roman Julius Caesar exempted their Jewish domain of Judaea from the annual tribute during the sabbatical year,4 may we not infer that the jubilee directives were at that time not out of vogue in the life of the peo-ple? It would be interesting, then, to know how they could have been carried out generation after generation. But unfortunately no historical observance of the jubilee was recorded in either the Old Testament or the New. Anyway, from the kind of juridical Judaism found in the New Testament, we have no compelling rea-son to believe that the jubilee still prevailed in practice, leaving us to wonder what ever happened to Judaism that God founded as a contrast communitys with its liberative laws, such as jubilee. Retrieving the Jubilee after Jesus Where does this le~d us? An answer may spring up from sens-ing how Jesus responded to the moribund custom of jubilee in his time. Though the word jubilee does not occur in the Gospels, the way he looked at some issues may point to his thinking on jubilee. He was surely positive in his attitude to the Law, and so we hear the puzzling logion: "Do not think that I have come to abol-ish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to ful-fill" (Mt 5:17). In so taking his stand, he was calling for right obedience to the Law: hearing the voice of God in the word of the Law, understanding God's genuine purpose, and acting on it. If he often invited attacks by those who were on the side of reli-gion, it was to challenge them to read the L~w aright according to the mind of the Lawgiver. He pointed out, too, that in the course of history the Law was sometimes mitigated or even distorted, as in the case of divorce, because of human hardness of heart. In order to accomplish the Law, he would advocate first and fore-most a return to its origin in the heart of God and a discernment Revie~v for Religious of its true relevance for the day, guided by the signs of the times, the ongoing surprise revelations of God's ways. Inspired by such a vision of the Law, Jesus would have insisted that jubilees were not occasions to be observed merely twice in a century, whether by omission or halfheartedly or even whole-heartedly. In this spirit he would have spoken searchingly: "If it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should return to the owner the land he had sold to you in his penury, I ask you, 'Why buy at all in the first place from a needy person?' Again, if it was said of old that you should not, during the jubilee, claim your money lent to the poor, I ask you, 'Why lend at all to the poor with a view to getting it back? Rather, give to anyone who asks you and, if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.' Again, if it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should free your slaves, I ask you, 'How dare you .ever buy out your brothers or sisters and enslave them even if they sold themselves to you in their dire need? For you are all slaves of God, and among yourselves you are brothers and sisters.'" Further, he would have told any challengers to search the Scriptures and realize how God had freed their forebears from slavery and settled them in a new land, a land that was not theirs but his, so that they might know the holy joy of living together in rich fellowship and surrounded by the blessings of Providence. Finally, in Ezekiel's fashion (Ezk 20:4-24), he would even have made them face their Roman subjugation and answer whether it was not due to their forsaking the jubilee of God and ceasing to be truly subject to the God of jubilee. It would have been with such silent thoughts that he went beyond the old jubilee and initiated a new era, calling it the year of the Lord's favor (Lk 4:19) and heralding the longed-for liberty, fulfilling Ezekiel's prophecy6 and climaxing John's preaching.7 God's own aspiration was ever to create a people witnessing to his blessing. Going Forth in the Spirit of Jubilee In picking up such possible thoughts of Jesus, what is our own jubilee aspiration and how are we to realize it? We do so by becom-ing the community of God's people and striving to do away with poverty. God's own aspi.ration was ever to create a people wit- January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees nessing to his blessing. When Jesus came on the scene, he pro-claimed that constant purpose of God. When he announced God's kingdom emerging in the world, he heralded equivalendy the com-munity of God's people. Further, in imitation of his Father, he was re-creating it visibly out of the remnant that was left of the old community.8 The new community, though very much in the world, was not of it. It was fashioned to be an alternative society in the spirit of jubilee. It had its own charter, promising and promoting the fulfillment of individuals and groups in society and thus the whole society (Mt 5:3-10). Its foremost beneficiaries were the poor of all sorts, that is, those who had been all along without name, voice, or standing, like children and women, the ritually and socially outcast, and, of course, the economically awkward. Though made up of different classes, the new community would not have the distinction and segregation of the high and the low; rather, the so-called high would serve the so-called low. If such terms as highest and lowest were to be used at all, then the highest in the community would be those who, bending over for the sake of others, made themsel+es little and served them-- even washing their feet. Their insignia would not be the tradi-tional one of selfish power, privilege, and possession, but the downward mobility of service and healthy promotion of others, avoiding all competition. Their royal rule would be: "In every-thing do to others as you would have thdm do to you" (Mt 7:12). Perhaps the one incident in which almost all the above distinctive qualities of the new community came into play was Jesus' feeding the multitude and satisfying them all with the little supply of bread and fish made available by a little boy. Living in this spirit of permanent jubilee, apart from which there is no jubilee worth talking about, we dare dream of becom-ing a contrast .community of Christians, renovating the structures of the age-old world in many details and so creating places where individual and social well-being can exist. Jubilee Praxis at the Start of the First Millennium How on earth can this become part of the realm of reality? Though we may find ourselves overwhelmed by forces against true community, did Jesus not envisage such a community of the future right at the start of his ministry when he declared that the era of universal liberation was beginning there and then with him- Review for Religious self (Lk 4:21)? Did he not confirm it as he went about forming one flock On 10:16)? And, at the very end, was he not intent on drawing all to himself and forming one community (Jn 12:32)? Did he fail in all that? The pristine community of the church witnessed that he certainly did not. Indeed, it acquired early an identity of its own, distinguishing it from the surrounding com-munity and marking its way of living together. Their identity was not so much their theoretical acceptance of the gospel, but prac-tical allegiance to it with consequences in social behavior. Luke named it koinonia, meaning fellowship or communion, which "con-notes the bond of responsibility to one another enjoined on believ-ers by their assent to the gospel."9 His firsthand report of this unique phenomenon reads thus: All who believed were together and had all things in com-mon; they would sell their possessions and goods and dis-tribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of the people. (Ac 2:44-47) Perhaps to emphasize the veracity of his report, he drew another such picture: Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apos-tles' feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. (Ac 4:32-35, emphasis added) The kernel of koinonia was thus communism in its best sense, namely, the community of goods which expressed, proved, and strengthened the community of spirit.1° The trial of koinonia even brought about the institution of diaconia or service (Ac 6:1-6) to oversee the practicalities of koinonia. Nothing like it had happened before in the Mosaic period, but it did not come out of the blue. It had its clear precedents as the law~ of the sabbatical and jubilee year show. The sharing of the rich with the poor envisaged by such laws did not merely look to the temporary or intermittent allevia-tion of the hardship of the.poor. Rather, it aimed at the divine ideal of annihilating poverty altogether according to the hopeful com-mand: "There shall be no poor among you" (Dt 15:4).~ January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond j-~ubilee and 3~ublilees Inspired by Jesus, the early church learned well, translating the above command into action and initiating jubilee living. The later church, as far as the 3rd century or so, followed suit in such a striking manner that the historian Pliny thought of Christians as tertia gens, a third group of people besides Romans and barbarians. Still the ideal had to be nurtured from the beginning against natural human hesitations, weaknesses, and failures. So Paul bade the Corinthians regarding help for the famine-stricken commu-nity in Jerusalem: Strive for equality; at present give from your abundance what they are short of, and some day they will repay in abundance what you lack. Then you will be equal and what Scripture says shall come true: "To him who had much, nothing was in excess; to him who had little, nothing was lacking." (2 Co 8:13-15, Christian Community Bible) The equality of everyone in the community, whether rich or poor, will remain no more than an illusion as long as .economic inequality remains. That is a warning implicitly given by James, when he confronted Christian assemblies with their old unequal dealings with the rich and poor: For, if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say "Have a seat here, please" while to the one who is poor you say "Stand there" or "Sit at my feet," have you not made distinctions among yourselves? (Jm 2:2-4) On the contrary, where the rich willingly forgo some of their riches in order to raise the condition of the poor, there is equal joy for both; and so James could say, "Let the believer who is lowly boast in being raised up, and the rich in being brought low" (Jm 1:9-10). Jubilee Praxis as the Third Millennium Starts With such precedents, are we going to achieve community of equals? Yes, if we enter upon unambiguous, if taxing, praxis. The first practice would seem to be self-awareness of our "chronic" failure in shaping human communities. If even now we let the societal laws considered above provoke not offense (pace Paul, Rm 3:20) but repentance, convicting us of our share of humanity's sin in this matter, we would be on the right track. Review for Religious Part of this initial practice is to realize how we, like the rest of humanity, have cultivated the pleasing or even cozy practice of good intention rather than a.ction, of fine words rather than deeds. James had reason to ask bluntly: If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them "Go in peace, keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? (]m 2:15-16) Is this challenge any less relevant now for the church community, and in particular the talking (even if not pontificating) theological fraternity, despite two millennia of Christianity? This is, however, no time for despair, but a time for immediate, earnest, and con-sistent praxis based on the twin nature of human beings as spiri-tual and economic. The second practice could well be conscientization for both the rich and the poor. The former may not even realize what being poor actually means. I, for one, was surprised to hear a city dweller say not very long ago that he missed Sunday Mass because he had no clean clothes to wear. Situations like this must be brought to the notice 6f the well-dressed community at Sunday Mass, among whom might be found some, like a Chicago priest I heard about, for whom a shirt worn once is too soiled to be worn again on the same day. In a school run by a group of sisters, a poor child went to class in slippers instead of shoes; for punishment her teacher, a former nun, made her wear them round her neck with her belt. Such unbe-lievable things occur and need to be made known, through chan-nels such as pastoral councils, to the rest of the community. For their part, the poor must be transformed by becoming conscious of what they deserve but are denied by society, includ-ing the church. St. Vincent de Paul Societies may serve this crit-ical cause, first learning themselves and then teaching poor people their rights enshrined in Canon Law. What a revelation to hear: There are canons that can be said to promote the ~velfare of the poor and speak fibout the defense of their rights. There are canons that promote the participation of the poor in church life, facilitate their access to the sacraments, uphold the right to receive help from the temporal goods of the church, require norms on legal aid for the poor, and so forth?~ If such conscientization is to become reality, much depends on a third practice, ecclesial leadership, which at least in India rests Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees largely with the bishops and then the clergy. Who is to tell them what their praxis should or could be? That, though, is what the Servant Leadership school in Washington, D.C., has dared, train-ing leaders in community living that is intimately associated with the life of the poor.13 It is heartening to hear of a bold Indian bishop who would not oblige his priests' clamor for his support of projects for the poor unless they committed themselves to conscientiously spend-ing for the target group all the money received. Not many, how-ever, are like him, intent on being levelers, mindful of benefiting the poor wholly and so bringing all people to a level of equality. So we hear stories of bishop~ who are not loath to receive a purse on the occasion of their jubilees celebrations, in clear violation of the spirit of the biblical jubilee. Vv'hat are we to think when a bishop, to please his family, tries to dissuade a young man from becoming a brother to serve the poor and even offers to make him a priest in his diocese? Does he have a ghost of an idea, let alone a chance, to build a true community where the poor will find their due, equal place of honor and feel blessed? Would that the unworthy bishops acted on the proposal, made by themselves or their confreres at the Synod of Bishops on Justice, to "under-take an examination of the modes of acting and of the posses-sions and lifestyle found within the church itself'U4--even though they seem not to take seriously the anticlerical strictures of Christ himself. Whatever the praxis of the leadership may be, the rest of the community may aid it indirectly by their own related praxis. And this may express itself in at least three ways. The first one is com-ing to know the likes of the locally famous Indian Jesuit Bishop Saupin (who, reportedly, would, in the style of the populace, travel in a rickshaw, clad in kurta and pajamas and smoking his beedi) or the globally famous Archbishop Romero. The second is pray-ing conscientiously and hopefully, while mentioning the ordinary's name at Mass, for the metanoia and metamorphosis of bishops so that they may know the importance of serving their community ¯ (which itself exists for serving one another in charity) by witness-ing to the incompatibility of chronic poverty with the visible king-dom of God. And the third (which is difficult but must be done) is humbly calling ecclesiastical high-ups to account, even against their resistance, in forums such as the parish and diocesan coun-cils enjoined by Vatican Council II. Review for Religious The fourth practice concerns the religious who have their own sphere of leadership for good and bad. While those in the limelight engage righdy or wrongly in discussion on the religious life of the future, there are a small number, like the Little Sisters and Brothers of Jesus, whose life itself is mostly.their practice of naturally and not optionally'5 accompanying the poor by their.presence among them in their living place, by their solidarity with them in the workplace, by their adoption of the lifestyle of their poor peers, and by their hospitality to the poor and rich which makes both groups feel equal and at ease. In the economy of communion practiced b~" Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sharing and, of course, socializing with those expe-riencing poverty, misery, and humiliation. Their way has attracted the attention even of gov-ernments. A year ago, for example, a Brazilian parlia-mentary commission made an official visit to their cen-ter in order to learn prac-tices that could help solve poverty problems in their country. Hearing the expe-riences of the Focolare entrepreneurs, they marveled at the con-crete achievements of the economy of communion, achievements that seemed impossible in the current economic context. One of them said: "The economy of communion is an already proven and revolu-tionary alternative. It is a new concept of economy, a new con-cept of wealth."16 The two groups mentioned above do not have any "apostolate" whatever as other congrggations understand the term. While other groups may benefit from the innovative experience of the these two groups, still, to develop their own praxis of involving them-selves in the lives of the poor, there would be no better way than going back to their original sources.~7 For, as a~le, religious con-gregation have always been founded with real bonds with the poor. Another thing that may help various religious congregations is the zealous search for ways to adapt present missions "for the ben- In the economy of communion practiced by Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sha~ing and, of course, socializing with those experiencing poverty,, misery, and humiliation. January-February 2001 Dominic * " Beyond J'ubilee and Jublilees efit of the poor and for a more just and fraternal world."~s A sure test of this will be making sure that, whatever work they begin, it benefits the poor most, as was surprisingly advocated by Gandhi to the members of his congress party striving for India's freedom. Another thing that may promote right praxis among them is to go back, in the spirit of what Paul and James advocate (1 Co 2:26 and Jm 2:5), to their own personal origins and find how poor indeed they were. For one may wager that most of us hail from families that are middle class, but commonly are lower than mid-dle class or indeed poor, even very poor, not unlike the apostles. There is no better way of concluding all this than what Jesus said to his disciples so poignandy at the Last Supper: "If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them!" (Jn 13:17). Notes t See Rui de Menezes, "The Biblical Jubilee Year," Vidyajyoti Journal 61 (1997): 653. [See also Robert G. North, Biblical Jubilee, after Fifty Years (Rome: Editrice Pontificio Biblico, 2000), a revised edition of his Sociology of the Biblical Jubilee, 1954.--ED.] 2 See The New Jerusalem Bible (NyB) (New York: Doubleday, 1985), note Lv 25a, p. 167. 3 See The New Jerome Biblical Commentary (N'JBC), ed. R.E. Brown et al. (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1991), n. 4:53, p. 78. 4 See Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 667, for the reference in Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible. s See T. Malipurathu, "Contrast Community: Its Meaning and Relevance for our Times," Vidyajyoti Journal 62 (1.998): 606-623, esp. 610-613. 6 It is striking that Ezk 46:7 uses the expression the Year of Liberty to refer to the Year of Jubilee. 7 See the relevant notes on Lk 3:3-14 in Christian Community Bible (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1990), p. 123. s See the note Mt 16g in NJB, p.1637, and the note on Ac 2:46 in NyBC, n. 44:28, pp. 734-735. 9 NyBC, n. 44:28, p. 734. ,0 See note Ac 2ffin NyB, p. 1803. n For the translation in the style of the Decalogue, see Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 654. 12 Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest in the Code of Canon Law, I," Vidyajyoti Journal 63 (1999): 924. ~3 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1989), p. xii. Review for Religious 14 AS in Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 930. t5 Fausto Gomez suggests that the preferential option for the poor is not simply optional but obligatory. See Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 927. 16 Mariapolis (Focolare newsletter), December 1999, p. 14. ~7 See, for example, Decrees of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1995, and St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995), §288. ,s Decrees, §289. The Sun The sun rose At 7:02 a.m.', standard time, the paper told me. The changing silhouettes of peaked boxes transformed into houses sided in pale pink and grays and browns proved it. But no explosion of color ¯ announced the moment, no silent fireworks to wake the sky. Only the quiet finger of God'~ tracing day-gold across the horizon. Suzanne Mayer IHM January-Februaly 2001 JAMES H. KROEGER A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia" "T he church in Asia sings the praises of the 'God of salvation' (Ps 68:20).-" These opening words set the tone of Ecclesia in Asia (hereafter EA), the postsynodal apostolic exhortation promulgated in November 1999: Clearly, themes of gratitude, celebration, and optimism characterize this document. The church sings God's praises for "choosing to initiate his saving plan on Asian soil," for sending "his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ the Savior, who took flesh as an Asian!" The church sees the "marvel of God's plan in Asia" and exults "in the goodness of the continent's peoples, cultures, and religious vitality" (§1). Pope John Paul II signed the document during his Asian pastoral visit to India (5-8.November 1999). The issuance of EA was the concluding moment of the special assembly for Asia of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as the Asian Synod. This four-year project of church reflection and renewal began with the publicafon of the Lineamenta (1996), continued with discussion on the Instrumentum Laboris (1998), reached its apex with the month-long synod sessions in Rome (19 April-14 May 1998), and culminated with the proclamation of the postsynodal Ecclesia in Asia James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll Missioner who has served in Asia since 1970 (Philippines and Bangladesh), is currently professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at Loyola School of Theology in Manila. His article was first published in Landas 13, no. 3 (journal of Loyola School of Theology). His address is Marvknoll; P.O. Box 285, Greenhills Post Office; Metro Manila, Philippine~ 1502. Review for Religqous (6 November 1999). Yes, "Asia-Church" rejoices and unceasingly proclaims God's enduring love! The Asian Synod was a multifaceted event on many levels. As EA notes, "it was indeed a moment of special grace" (§3). It was also "a celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). The synod event became "an ardent affirmation of faith in Jesus Christ the Savior" (§4), and, as the local churches of Asia gathered in Rome, "the synod fathers sought to discern the principal areas of mission for the church in Asia as she crosses the threshold of the new millennium" (§ 18). The synod's theme was much debated and carefully chosen: "Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in A~ia: 'That they may have Life and have it abundantly' On 10:10)." AS the pope writes, this particular formulation of the theme was to "illustrate and explain more fully that Christ is the one mediator between God and man and the sole redeemer of the world, to be clearly distinguished from the founders of other great religions" (§2). The theme manifests the chu[ch's faith in Jesus and his mission; he is Savior who serves and bestows abundant life; he is to be.joyfi4.11y proclaimed in Asia. Ecclesia in Asia, a rich, lengthy document, now becomes an important signpost of evangelization for the local churches in Asia in the new millennium. An analysis of EA reveals three major sections or underlying thematics: (I) Asian realities relevant to the church and her mission of evangelization (§§5-9); (2) theological-doctrinal aspects of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit (§§10-23); (3) The church's mission of love and service in Asia (§§24-49). The main body of EA is framed by an introduction which captures the highlights of the synod process (§§1-4) and a conclusion that expyesse~, the pope's gratitude and encouragement along with a final prayer to Mary, "Mother of Asia" (§§50-51).The entire document is focused on "seeking to discern the Spirit's word to the churches in Asia" (§51). Asian Context Ecclesia in Asia devotes its chapter 1 to the concrete situation of .contemporary ~sia--her r.eligious, cultural, economic, social, political, and historical realities (§§5-9). This inductive approach, characteristic ~)f current Asian theological reflection, mirrors the method and experience of the Federation of Asian Bishops' January-February 2001 Kroeger . A Continuing Pentecost Conferences (FABC). The Asian church accepts that "a critical awareness of the diverse and complex realities of Asia is essential if the people of God on the continent are to respond to God's will for them in the new evangelization" (§5). As EA notes, "Asia is the earth's largest continent and is home to nearly two-thirds of the world's population"; its various peoples are "heirs to ancient cultures, religions, and traditions." One is amazed "at the sheer size of Asia's population and at the intricate mosaic of its many cultures, languages, beliefs, and traditions." Asia is "the cradle of the world's major religions" and "the birthplace of many other spiritual traditions" (§6). Economically, socially, and politically, "situations on the Asian continent are very diverse, defying any simple classification" (§7). EA highlights various concrete pastoral concerns: rapid change, migration, nuclear power, tourism, population growth, poverty, women, and a host of additional challenges. In this complex situation the church's one ambition is to continue Christ's mission of service and love (see §50). Her approach is that of mutual exchange and enrichment; thus, EA confirms "the importance of dialogue as a characteristic mode of the church's life in Asia" (§3). Mother Teresa of Calcutta is proposed as "an icon of the service to life which the church is offering in Asia" because of "her loving and selfless care of the poorest of the poor" (§7). This "chosen" continent of Asia, with all its immensity, diversity, and complexity, holds special meaning for the church. God's only-begotten Son "took flesh as an Asian" (§I); "Behold, the Savior of the world is born to us, born in Asia" (§2). Yes, Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church" (§5). This church thanks God "for choosing Asia as the earthly dwelling place of his incarnate Son" (§50; see §§2, 9, 20). This unique gift implies a task; the church commits her energies to making Jesus, his gospel of life, and his community the church truly "at home" (inculturated) in Asia and her peoples (§§9, 20). Theological Foundations Three chapters of.EA, focusing on Jesus and the Spirit, describe a type of doctrinal orientation to the church's Asian mission. Yet the manner of presentation is decidedly pastoral; it blends theologies "from below" and "from above." It reads easily, the flow is smooth, and inclusive language is partially employed. Some insights even Review for Religious " enjoy poetic expression: "Contemplating Jesus in his human nature, the peoples of Asia find their deepest questions answered, their hopes fulfilled, their dignity uplifted, and their despair conquered" (§14). The thematic of girl is frequently found in these "theological" chapters. Jesus the Savior is a gift to Asia; this faith-gift is to be both appropriated and proclaimed. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (§10). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs ~n Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (§31; see §20). The church in Asia must ask itself a probing question: How do we "share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (§19)? Proclaiming the Christian faith-gift meets unique challenges, particularly in the "multiethnic, multireligious and multicultural situation of Asia" (§21). Asia has its indigenous religions, soteriologies, and savior figures (see §§14, 19, 20). This reality demands a humble, dialogical stance on the part of the church; "proclamation is prompted not by sectarian impulse nor the spirit of proselytism nor any sense of superiority" (§20; see §§4, 31, 46). And yet this genuine respect and reverence for the church's dialogue partners "does not eliminate the need for the explicit proclamation of the gospel in its fullness" (§20; see §31). By her very identity the church is "a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed" (§ 19). Affirming the relevance of Jesus for Asia (§§1, 9, 10, 18, 50) demands a particular approach to proclamation. The church "needs to follow a pedagogy which will introduce people step by step to the full appreciation of the mystery." She should employ "narrative methods akin to Asian cultural forms" and follow "an evocative pedagogy, using stories, parables, and symbols so characteristic of Asian methodology in teaching." In a word, the church must "evangelize in a way that appeals to the sensibilities of Asian peoples" (§20). Engaging Asian peoples, their cultures, and their religions (FABC's triple dialogue) demands genuine commitment to inculturation (§§20-23) and interreligious dialogue (§§29-31). Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church." January-February 2001 Kroeger * ,4 Continuing Pentecost EA asserts that Christology is necessarily integrated with pneumatology as well as Trinitarian faith. It is the "uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance" (§14); one cannot "separate the activity of the Holy Spirit from that of Jesus the Savior" (§.16). The Holy Spirit, "the prime agent of evangelization" (§17), is "an absolutely vital part of the mystery of Jesus and the salvation which he brings" (§15). Jesus and his Spirit are only adequately comprehended within,the "Trinity's plan of salvation" (§15); there are no two parallel economies of salvation. There are real, complex missiological questions, and the Asian Synod and Ecclesia in Asia attempted to face them. A Missionary Community The longest section of F~ (§§24-49) focuses on the church and her mission in the vast Asian continent. Four discernible themes emerge: church as communion for mission (§§24-28), dialogue (§§29-31), human promotion (§§32-41), and agents of evangelization (§§42-49). EA presents a vision as well as concrete approaches for mission; these emerge from a particular faith stance: "The question is not whether the church has something essential to say to the men and women of our time, but how she can say it clearly and convincingly" (§29). EA recognizes "the pressing need of the local churches in Asia to present the mystery of Christ to their peoples according to their cultural patterns and ways of thinking" (§20). "Communion ecclesiology" finds strong expression in EA. The church is a "privileged place of encounter" between God and people; her first purpose is "to be the sacrament of the inner union of the human person with God." She is also "the sacrament of the unity of the human race." This means that "communion and mission are inseparably connected [and] they interpenetrate and mutually imply each other." Communion is "both the source and fruit of mission." In short, "communion give~ rise to mission and mission is accomplished in communion" (§24). The church in Asia promotes internal communion and participation on many levels: with the successor of Peter, among various sister local churches, dioceses, basic ecclesial communities ("a positive feature Of the church's evangelizing.activity"), renewal movements, the Catholic Eastern churches,, and other. Christian churches (see §§25~2:7). Internal communion emanates outward Review for Religious ¯ toward other groups throughout Asia: the variety of peoples, cultures, and religions with whom the church shares life (§25), churches and peoples in mainland China, North Korea, and the ex- Soviet territories of Asia (§28). Regional and continental associations of bishops that foster communion (for example, FABC) are recognized and praised (§26), but their profound insights are never directly quoted. ¯ .An inherent demand of "communion ecclesiology" is dialogue. This "desire for dialogue . . . is not simply a strategy for peaceful coexistence among peoples; it is an essential part of the church's mission, ¯ . . a veritable vocation for the church" (§29). A particularly helpful section is devoted to interreligious dialogue (§31), seen as % part of the church's evangelizing mission, an expression of the mission adgentes." The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." Following the lead of Nostra aerate, "the Magna Carta of interreligious dialogue for our times," the church in Asia is called to a double fidelity: to affirm her "belief that the fullness of salvation comes from Christ alone" and to gladly acknowledge "whatever is true and holy in the religious traditions of Buddhism, Hinduism, and Islam as a reflection of that Truth which enlightens all people." Interreligious dialogu~ seeks "mutual advancement [and] the elimination of prejudice, intolerance, and misunderstandings" (§31). Dialogue demands will only increase with passing years. Persons must be formed to have "a mature and convinced Christian faith" that qualifies them "to engage in genuine interreligious dialogue." They need to be "deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ [and] happy in their faith community." The call to dialogue requires the church in Asia "to provide suitable models of interreligious dialogue." In the dialogue endeavor it is imperative "to revitalize prayer and contemplation" and to give witness to "the great Christian traditions of asceticism and mysticism" (§31). The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." January-Febr~ary 2001 Kroeger ¯ A Continuing Pentecost Chapter 6 treats human promotion and church social teaching. S~iving to build a "civilization of love," the church views all human development not only as a "technical or economic question; it is fundamentally a human and moral question" (§32). An integral, holistic approach to evangelization is employed, encompassing the areas of human dignity (§33), preferential love for the poor (§34), healthcare (§36), education (§37), peacemaking (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). In these diverse fields the church resists "the culture of death" in accord with her vision of"the gospel of life" (§35). Agents of Evangelization Chapter 7, titled "Witnesses to the Gospel," focuses on the church's missionary identity in Asia. The church strives to be a credible witness because "people today put more trust in witnesses than in teachers, in experience than in teaching, and in life and action than in theories"; in the Asian context "people are more persuaded by holiness of life than by intellectual argument" (§42). EA asserts that it is "a genuinely religious person [who] readily wins respect and a following in Asia" (§23). Gospel witness in Asia needs holy men and women who themselves are "on fire with the love of Christ and burning with zeal to make him known more widely, loved more deeply, and followed more closely." Why? "A fire can only be lit by something that is itself on fire"; Christian witnessing demands "a true missionary spirituality of prayer and contemplation" (§23). Asian peoples, especially the youth, manifest this "deep thirst for spiritual values" (§6). In a word, living Christian mission in Asia incorporates and, in fact, demands "contemplative action and active contemplation" (§23). EA addresses a v.ariety of gospel witnesses: pastors (§43), religious and missionaries (§44), theologians (§22), laypers6ns (§45), families (§46), young people (§47), and those whose apostolate is social communications, "the areopagus of the modern age" (§48). Striking insights are often presented: "People in Asia need to see the clergy not just as charity workers and institutional administrators, but as men whose minds and hearts are set on the deep things of the Spirit" (§43). "The synod fathers were most concerned that the church should be a participatory church in which no one feels excluded, and they judged the wider Review for Religious participation of women in the life and mission of the church in Asia to be an especially pressing need" (§45). The pope encourages and thanks missionaries (§§20, 42, 44, 50), urging "the church in Asia to send forth missionaries, even though she herself needs laborers in the vineyard" (§44). Mission is to be central to each local church; local "missionary societies of apostolic life, characterized by their special commitment to the mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam" are strongly encouraged (§44). EA calls upon "the great host of Asian martyrs, old and new,. ¯. to teach the church in Asia what it means to bear witness." (§49). Additional Emphases The Asian Synod surfaced crucial questions facing local churches in Asia; EA reflects several of these pastoral and missionary concerns. The question of Jesus' Asianness surfaces in various discussions¯ "Jesus is often perceived as foreign to Asia. It is paradoxical that most Asians tend to regard Jesus--born on Asian soil--as a Western rather than an Asian figure" (§20). "It is indeed a mystery why the Savior of the world, born in Asia, has until now remained largely unknown to the people of the continent" (§2). To address and overcome this reality, the church must open herself to "new and surprising ways in which the face of Jesus might be presented in Asia" (§20). How can Jesus be effectively proclaimed-- bearing an "Asian face"? The subject of religious freedom arises because in various places in Asia "Christians are not allowed to practice their faith freely" (§8); "explicit proclamation is forbidden, and religious freedom is denied or systematically restricted" (§23). Christians are forced "to live their faith in the midst of restrictions or even the total denial of freedom" (§28). Governments are enjoined to "guarantee religious freedom for all their citizens" (§28), assure "immunity from coercion" (§23) in religious matters, and recognize "the right to freedom of conscience and religion and the other basic human rights" (§34). Analysis and comparison between the content of EA and the decades of pastoral reflection by Asian bishops (FABC) reveals many similarities. 'Since 1974, in its document "Evangelization in Modern-Day Asia," the FABC has promoted the local church's triple dialogue with Asia's peoples, cultures, and religions; this vision is January-Februat.~ 2001 Kroeger * A Continuing Pentecost Inculturation received much attention during the synod. repeatedly found in F~ (see §§1, 15, 18,.20, 21, 24). Again, the FABC pastoral priorities enunciated over the years, particularly the focus on the family, women and the girl-child, youth, ecology, and the displaced (see FABC VI:lS) are also highlighted by ~ (§~34, 37, 41, 46, 47). FABC itself is mentioned (§§2, 3, 26, 31), though none of its fine work is directly quoted or even noted in the copious endnotes. The theme of inculturation received much attention during the synod, and certain particular areas were identified as requiring concentrated focus: "theological reflection, liturgy, the formation of priests and religious, eatechesis, and spirituality" (§21). Central to inculturating the faith is the biblical word, the message of salvation, the sacred text; Sacred Scripture is proposed as ."the basis for all missionary proclamation, catechesis, preaching, and styles of spirituality" (§22). One may inquire about criteria for authentic inculturation; ,EA notes: "The test of true inculturation is whether people become more committed to their Christian faith because they perceive it more clearly with the eyes of their own culture" (§22). The Christian virtue of compassion repeatedly surfaces in Ed (for example, §§11, 12, 14, 20, 45, 51). The apostolic exhortation is correct in expressing the church's mission.in terms of this appealing focus. Presenting Jesus as "the compassionate friend of the poor" (§20) will find a resonance and reception among Asians. In the ' church's mission of love and service, women evangelizers contribute greatly "to bringing the compassionate Jesus, the healer and reconciler, to Asian people, especially the poor and marginalized" (§45). Jesus, the God-man, was "close to the poor, the forgotten, and the lowly"; "he wept for a dead friend [and] welcomed children"; "divine compassion had never been so immediately accessible" (§11). As the church in Asia enters the new millennium, she faces some demanding challenges. EA highlights some importfint apostolates: women (§§7, 34, 45), you.th (§§6, 47.), nuclear power (§§7, 38), peace~naking and reconciliation (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). The authenticity of the church's "mission of service and love" (§50) will indeed be Review for Religious tested; will it produce "a great harvest of faith . in this vast and vital continent" (§1) of Asia? Gratitude and Optimism Ecclesia in Asia concludes as it began on a clear note of optimism and gratitude. "Blessed be God for the peoples of Asia, so rich in their diversity yet one in their yearning for peace and fullness of life" (§50). With committed faith, "the church in Asia joyfully makes her pilgrim way into the third millennium" (§50). "Mary, model of all disciples and I~right star of evangelization, . . . look tenderly upon the church of your Son planted on Asian soil. ¯ O Mary, mother of the New Creation and mother of Asia, pray for us, your children, now and always!" (§51). In this m6od of gratitude and optimism, the local churches of Asia accept the Holy Father's gift: Ecclesia in ~sia. Its contents are a mixture of the old and the new (see Mt 13:52), a summation of Asian.reflection and insights in the Vatican II era, a presentation of the missionoagenda for Asia's faith communities, a program for evangelization iri the new millennium. All in all, EA is a much-appreciated gift. Its treasures need opening in the coming years and decades; its dream for the church--God's holy people--beckons implementation; its theme--abundant life in Jesus the Savior-- requires contemplative action. Yes, Jesus' Asian disciples affirm that the Holy 'Spirit, who moved upon Asia in times past, "moves now among Asian Christians, strengthening the witness of their faith among the peoples, cultures, and religions of the continent" (§ 18). Contemplating God's salvific deeds and wonders during the Easter Vigil liturgy, the universal chh~ch proclaims in the Exsultet: "Rejoice, O Mother Church!" In similar fashion, th~ local churches in Asia' acclaim 'God's marvels in theirmidst; they joyfully affirm the Asian Synod event as a "celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). They pray that the proclarriation and subsequent internalization of Ecclesia in Asia will confirm the church in her servant mission to bring Christ's love and abundant life On 10:10) to Asia and her peoples. Rejoice, O Asia-Church! .~anua~y-February 2001 vocation PHILIP ARMSTRONG Who Is a Brother? I am not sure the title should ask who. Maybe it should ask: What is a brother? People have been trying to frame an unambiguous answer for ages, and in the meantime new applications of the word brother have compounded the issue. My interest is to define, as best I can, that rare creature in the Roman Catholic Church known as a religious brother. What does the ordinary word brother usually mean today? Looking at that may help us comprehend ,similarities and differences of the term as applied to men who, by the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, commit themselves to what is commonly called religious life. What Is a Brother? Male siblings of the same parents are called brothers. People's close friends who are male are' sometimes compared to a brother: "He's like a brother to me." Sometimes males call one another brother when they do not know the other's name but feel some affinity toward him. The Great Depression is characterized by one of its slogans, "Brother, can you spare a dime?" In some seminary programs a man is addressed as Philip Armstrong CSC, of the Brothers of Holy Cross, wrote on mission and the vows for our September 2000 issue. His address remains P.O. Box 460; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. Review for Religious Brother, or its Latin form Frater, when he has achieved a certain level of preparation for the ordained priesthood. This use of the term creates confusion over lay/clerical identity. Volunteer organizations may use the term brother in identifying a mentoring relationship between a man and a boy, as in "Big Brothers." African Americans use the term brother to identify males of their race, using the word to indicate the relationship existing by reason of their common African origin and the consequent bonds that solidify them in matters of importance: "One of the brothers sold his house and moved." Some small religious denominations, particularly the more evangelical or those built on sociocultural ties, refer to any male fellow believer as Brother. "Next Sunday Brother Anderson will pass the plate at our service." In the Bible, Jesus uses brother to signify equality among people: "If you are bringing a gift to the altar and remember that your brother has anything against you . " Peter asks, "How often must I forgive my brother?" The terms brother and sister are used generically by church-related personnel in addressing members of the congregation: "My brothers and sisters in Christ." The common thread through all these uses may help us understand, too, why some dedicated men within the Catholic Church are called brothers. There is interpersonal relationship and open trust not based on kinship. The others have the same values, have similar goals, and use the same general methods to achieve their goals. This intangible affinity among brothers (or sisters) does not rely on blood ties yet depends on that relationship to provide a name for this closeness. The substance of such a relationship is: "That man accepts me, confronts me, counsels me, helps me as if I were his own brother." The image of the Good Samaritan comes to mind. Jesus' way of relating with men and women, whether they were righteous or sinful, offers many examples of what it means to be a brother to someone. Simply put, a brother is a man who at all times acts ds a blood brother would act. The Brother in the Church How did the term brother for a vowed religious in the Roman Catholic Church originally surface? Quite likely it arose from relationships in blood families: father, mother, brother, sister. The picture.would include the fact that few were educated as we define education, with those who possessed some "book knowledge" being Janltary-Februaly 2001 Armstron~ ¯ Who Is a Brother? considered natural counselors and mediators. Those representing the people before God and using their knowledge to help them understand and practice their faith could reasonably be called Father, because providing for his family and counseling them are importan~ tasks of the father of a family. Those exercising positions of leadership in communities of vowed women could be called Mother. Those who followed the lead of these fathers or mothers, who assisted; who undertook to fulfill the tasks related to the group's ministries, were called sisters or brothers. Over the years men religious who did not feel called to priesthood, but who assisted clerics in their ministry of preaching, teaching, or sacramental service, were called brothers--like male siblings helping their father do the work of a family farm or business. Help.ers somewhat behind the scenes, they were generally less-educated men doing the more hidden or more mundane and practical tasks connected with the priests' mission of sacred mediation and of education. In time brothers became in people's minds the "hewers of wood and the drawers of water" whose silent and nearly invisible presence was invaluable, essential, though largely taken for granted by the clergy and laity alike. By rule these men remained politically sequestered within their congregations, ha~ing no voice in choosing their leaders and not eligible to become leaders themselves. They prayed much, often apart from their clerical confreres, who in cloister or corridor would pass them by like supportive, exemplary specters. After the social and cultural disruption of the French Revolution, many groups of nonordained but vowed men religious sprang up through the initiative of bishops and parish priests who were in a position to support the development: These apostolic religious were to educate the untutored youth being lost to the church. In contrast to earlier brothers, these men were at least minimally educated and were dedicated to a professional life similar to that of the ordained. For more than a century such groups were formed, and their members went wherever there was a cry for Catholic education, even beyond the borders of their native lands. These became more known to stciety" at large, if not muct~ more visible, by their focus on schools . A concurrent reality that did no favors to many groups of brothers was their unwitting and unplanned gravitation toward ~an identity more clerical than lay. Many brothers, whether as members of laycongregations or as an arm of a clerical community, dressed Review for Religious like clerics and carried out ministries supportive of clerical min-istries. These brothers, nearly indistinguishable from priests, were extended the rights and privileges that a Christian society accorded the priesthood. As a result, a mindset developed among the brothers out of which they identified themselves more with their clerical associate~ than with the laity. It was the laity, though, from a strictly ecclesial perspective, (o whom brothers in fact related more closely. True, they were indeed set apart from the laity by their vowed commitment within a particular congregation approved by Rome. But their external, visible ministries did nothing to project a specific image of brother as distinct from the clerical, patriarchal image they had lived With for so long. "The Terrible Twos" of a Century After World War II and Vatican Council II, both productive of cultural and social upheaval (in a way, the century's "terrible twos"), all vowed religious were challenged to reassess how faithfully their founding purpose and their ministries responded to the newly emerging needs of both church and society and to renew and adapt accordingly. As communities they were to open themselves to the "signs of the times" that hinted at potentially diverging directions in life and mission for vowed religious. Congregations of brothers and mixed congregations (clerics and significant numbers of brothers) found themselves affected by the momentous challenges put before them by the church. Many members departed, fewer young men joined the community, and those who remained grew older, began retiring, and soon were dying unreplaced. These realities were running parallel to the clear and urgent call issued by the Vatican Council to the laity to exert by right a more prominent and active role in the church. Education was one of the first areas affected. As the numbers of brothers declined at a pace impossible to retard, lay people began to fill their places in schools. Along with their declining numbers and increasing age, brothers were suddenly challenged on the level of their profession as teachers and administrators even while they and others were waking to the fact they are not clerics. For brothers the question of the day became: Well, then, who are we, and what is our proper role now in the church and the world? Answers have not come quickly or easily, and some would argue they have not yet come at all. [---3~3-~- January-Februa~. 2001 Armstrong * WlTo Is a Brother? Immense energy has been expended reflecting on, discussing, and determining the identity of the brother for the church today. Some of that energy may have seeped over into trying to determine the brother's role in church and society. In neither case, however, does there appear to be widespread satisfaction with the results, and many retain a confused and hazy notion of the brotherhood as a way of life in the church. It does not help that some of the least informed and articulate on the matter are found among bishops and priests. Worse yet, many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. The foundations have crumbled on which some based their sense of self-definition. What will it take to pour new and indestructible footings? A Beginning Perhaps a judicious mix of the old and the new is the best place to begin forming a relevant and appropriate definition of a brother in today's church and world. Retaining acknowledged and presumably nonnegotiable hallmarks of the brother's state of life, but blending and refining them in the crucible of postmodern experience, intuition, and prayerful discernment, one might descriptively define a brother somethii~g like this: A brother is a lay religious ¯ committed to living a common life ¯ and consecrated, by public profession of the vows of religion, ¯ to witnessing to the presence of God in his life and in the world. ¯ He reveals his identity more by example than explanation, ¯ more by doing than defining. ¯ In short, he relates and acts like a brother, ¯ to the exclusion of no one.¯ As an equal, ¯ and as supported by like-minded associates in community, ¯ he is free to respond in a variety of practical ways, ¯ living and working fraternally with others ¯ in promoting and preserving human dignity and justice ¯ through his prophetic stance ¯ and professional expertise. The nonnegotiables of this definition consist in identification more with the laity than w~th the clergy;living in community; publicly professing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; standing as prophetic witnesses to gospel vaiues; and reaching out in service to others. The postmodern experiential components are: more emphasis on a bold and perceptible expression of what being a brother means from the inside; a clear sense of reaching out to others in need as "brothering" them as a blood brother would; serving others out of a conviction of universal human equality under God; openness to the Review for Religious many forms of ministry to which brothers are free to respond by reason of being unrestrained by the ecclesiastical and cultural expectations imposed on ordained ministers; and, within community parameters, rightly seeking and achieving professional expertise in fields of interest and competence. Postmodern? Experiential? Is this more verbal gimmickry, or do these concepts add something substantial to the recipe for today's brother in the church and the world? I believe that both terms are appropriate and relevant. Postmodern is a term used by historians, sociologists, and anthropologists to refer generally to the period following the lengthy modern era that began in the 1500s and ended in the 1960s with the cultural revolution we in the United States tend to associate with events such as the Vietnam war and anti-establishment protests and also with Vatican II and its aftermath. There is no question that the events and the changed moods and understandings of the final four decades of the 20th century have had an immense impact on religious life, some of it distressingly disruptive, some creatively challenging. Experiential surely applies by reason of the mandate of Vatican II's document Perfectae caritatis and the Norms addressed to religious communities asking them to adapt and update their constitutions and rules as necessary, almost literally "refounding" their congregations. Experimentation through changing or discarding certain anomalous or anachronistic disciplinary elements in religious life was to be permitted for a reasonable time, normally eight to twelve years. The religious garb fell under this category, as did the daily schedule, areas and modes of accountability, the exercise of authority, forms and styles of prayer, and so forth. This experimentation was meant to contribute to a newly framed definition of each congregation's giftedness for today's church. Brothers who persevered in the religious life during these years had to respond creatively to the challenges of the day just to remain faithful to themselves as persons, let alone as religious in community. They were challenged to become more observant of evolving needs in the church and society and to search for w. ays to place their congregation's talents and resoui'ces at the disposal of Many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? the church. And they, some for the first time, had to go about this discernment out of a conscious acknowledgment that they were definitely not clerics. Still, if the brothers were not clerics, then who were they? Somewhat as the Christian adolescent needs at some point to confront the faith infused through infant baptism, the postmodern religious brother has had to deal with whatever motivated his entering religious life years ago. It has been a true moment of conversion for him, a fresh confirmation of the validity of his choice of a way of life. Without this process a new sense of identity leading to broader availability would have been impossible for him. Most religious have found this exercise challenging and regenerating, reminding them that they had in fact committed themselves first and foremost not to a structure, not to a profession, not to any particular members within the organization, but to God. Whatever permutations were introduced into the externals over the years, the substantial reality has remained immutably in place, and that is enough. But simply defining one's identity is not enough. Unless conviction and a comfortable acceptance of what it means to be a brother are internalized, there is little hope of either acquiring or cultivating the openness necessary for finding new and challenging directions in mission and ministry, for living community, or for attracting others to embrace the same way of life. What Will It Take? Let me personalize this conversion experience even further, because for each individual brother identity is a matter of deep concern. Unless I can perceive myself as a valid, needed, and effective player of a unique role among many roles in the church, I cannot muster and sustain the conviction that will provide the energy I require both to pursue my way of life and to face the exigencies it inevitably entails. As essential as this perception is, it alone cannot support my efforts. Unless the church, both in its hierarchy and in its wider membership, can be convinced that the brothers' way of life is important for the church and the world, I by myself will be able to do little except go about my daily ministry and life in community in the vague hope that the witness I give to the world is somehow being diffused like a healthy mist settling on persons, places, and Review for Religious events near or far. I could not do this alone. I need help from within the church. Yet, if appropriate authority at even the highest levels is struggling to understand the identity and role of the brother in the church today, from what source will the definition come? Who is the "credible authority" that will provide it? The answer is simple: the brother himself. Why not? We brothers may for the most part not be trained theologians or men steeped in the history and development of the church, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical discipline, but we have a lifetime of experience being brothers that should count for something. We have evolved together with our vocational call, responding to challenges along the way that have forced us to question our identity, or purpose, and our reason for remaining brothers. Our prayer life, presumably "alive and active over the years, has kept us in touch with the One to whose call we have responded daily, and the resulting relationship has, we would hope, matured to the point where we can be at ease with our interpretation not only of who we are as brothers, but of how each of us is personally a witness to the reign of God. why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift? We should--and until we do we will continue to mill about, lost, confused, an.d impotent, within vague definitions of prophetic witness and ministerial service in the church. Until we are perceived by others as relevant and competent and are accepted as equal players on the field of evangelization, we will constitute a "loose cannon" threat to the ecclesiastical bureaucracy and receive little support or affirmation, nor will young men be encouraged who may be considering the lay religious life as a desirable option for their own futures. Why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift ? A Corporate Effort Beyond the effort each brother must exert to clari~ for himself what it means today to be a brother and to fashion a revived sense of January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? mission based on renewed identity, there remains, I suggest, a need for a corporate endeavor among all brothers to invite, support, and help implement a new era, a "second coming," for men in the lay religious life. Even then it is not brothers alone who must feel responsible for resurrecting both awareness of and interest in the brotherhood. In the Vatican, in the hierarchy of bishops, priests, and deacons, and in the lay membership of the church, a fresh attempt must be made to bring about a renewed understanding of the vital role brothers play in the church as an institution and as the community known as the people of God. Because the truly authentic essence of brotherhood in religious life has to be articulated by brothers, it is they who must be the primary educators, as historically they have been in their numbers since the foundation of their congregations. Ready teachers, of course, must encounter willing students or the lesson will go unlearned and unappreciated, leaving the church and the world the poorer for it. And so brothers must seek and gain the confidence of church authority through their expertise in theologizing about and articulating the experiential essence of the lay religious life. This aim can be achieved through two practical steps. First, the theological reflection, even if informally undertaken, must unfold in a deliberate and orderly manner. Second, a path must be opened, a clear and smooth thoroughfare of effective communication between brothers and the rest of the church. To accomplish .this, good public relations will be required, for brothers have such a history of invisibility and silence that any change, if it attracts attention at all, will tend to create or exacerbate confusion in people, if not suspicion. Brothers must learn how to harness modern communication technologies and get assistance from the media, because the teachers will be implementing the most important lesson plan they have ever devised. Meanwhile. Meanwhile, brothers must continue preparing for their vocational parousia through personal effort at educating themselves to the point of absolute confidence and conviction. Nothing less will succeed in reeducating the church, let alone the world, as to the gift the lay religious life for men is now and can be to the whole of humankind. Out of what definition ought brothers to operate in the Review for Religion, s meantime? I suggest, once again, that the italic passage above on page 34 constitutes a solid working definition, one that incorporates both nonnegotiable expectations of male lay religious and elements that seem essential in a postmodern world. O~r own experience as brothers has confirmed the validity of the definition. Let us at the very least seize its substance and begin the task of refining and developing it. The task is immense and will require every bit of our faith and hope--and our perseverance. Were it not for the One who is author of our faith and our hope and who inspires us to persevere, we would find ourselves in the nearly untenable position of expecting to increase understanding of and enthusiasm for a kind of religious witness and ministry that relates directly to neither the clergy nor the laity. Happily, the God who created the world itself and made life increase and multiply can create new little worlds within it that can grow in understanding and age and grace. It is that possibility in which we place our greatest hope, and it is that God to whom we look for its realization. Postseason Christmas is dismantled again, syncopated lights from shaggy tree transported to basement. It's time to mine the darkness of these shrunken days for fire-feeding coal , and to scan the night skies, each quadrant strung with twinkling lights stretching Christmas hope across the long winter coming. Patricia Schaapp ~M .~anuary-February 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Vocational Being d note about the cleaning and restoration of Sandro Botticelli's Virgin Adoring the Sleeping Christ Child gives an account of the artist, his painting, and its restoration. "[Now we can see] Botticelli's purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject. It is this perfect union of means and meaning that makes the painting so powerful."' To speak of "this perfect union of means and meaning" is superlative praise. In most human endeavor there is a gap between means and. meaning. Achievement hardly ever matches the intention. Brush strokes on canvas, notes from a cello, lines on a page, the lie of a golf ball--rarely do means and meaning synchronize to a person's satisfacfon. Environment and Faith From the perspective of art appreciation, Botticelli is said to have done justice to his subject and himself to an incomparable degree. The power of his painting confirms this, If the union of means and meaning reached such perfection from the artist's view-point, what might be said of his achievement from the perspec-tive of a viewer's faith? What if I, the viewer, adore Christ now in our Lady's company, aware that to paint Christ and the kneeling Virgin does not just capture an abstract ideal, but real people, liv-ing still, to whom I can relate? With dynamic faith I the viewer can be drawn into (not just to) the scene as an integral part of a present Donald Macdonald SMM continues writing about aspects of the reli-gious vocation. His address is Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scodand, U.IC Revie~ for Religious reality. By faith I am at one with the meaning in a way I could never hope to be with just the painter's means. "The purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject" invites and challenges my faith to express itself in reflective ado-ration. The painting directs me to consider what is within me from the viewpoint of faith. The gap between means and meaning is then evident, but so is the inspiration to adore from the center of my being. The beauty of the picture has aesthetic appeal and more, showing what might be if I were fully alert to the wonder of an incarnational faith. I, too, can do what Mary does now, for I am one with her in Christ through baptism. A growing symmetry between means and meaning results in an integrated life. "The beauty of wonder caught in Botticelli's Adoration of the Virgin, reflects what is really there. It may have spectacular appeal to the imagination, but it is not imaginary. Glimpsing this wonder and trying to answer its challenge may suggest consecrated reli-gious life. Do I need to give myself radically, as did Mary, before its wonder compels adoration? Before I adore I must first see and be taken out of myself. This means that I should take note of the environment and any clutter which inhibits insight. Only then can I see what means I have at hand by which I can pursue meaning expressed in adoration. It is neither negative nor defeatist to see in the environment much that is harmful to a life of disciplined faith. The concern for God and neighbor through which authentic faith finds mean-ing lags behind other priorities. Where the current media do not ridicule or dismiss faith, they may actively oppose it whenever they feel threatened by a lived and living faith. There are then no Marquis of Queensberry Rules to govern the fight, and writers, editors, and producers know it. In its many forms--radio, film, TV, internet, print--the media cross continents. Cherished, prac-tical values are often trivialized, and the absence of reticence often coarsens what should be held in great respect. Skillful contempo-rary presentations and inveterate noise may deaden an individual's capacity to respond in wonder to the worldview seen in the Gospels and in Botticelli. Many media movers and shakers "dirty the flower with muddy hands" whenever spiritual or religious values appear on their horizons. A contemporary illustration of this is in a national newspaper correspondent's account of the presentation in London of the Sony Gold Awards for radio broadcasting. "IX] won the music presen- January-February 2001 Macdonald ¯ Vocational Being tation award . By the time he had finished his acceptance speech, he had made half the Great Room of the Grosvenor House long, if not for the grave, then at least for the cool embrace of silence. It wasn't just that he swore. Many people who stepped up that night to receive their awards displayed scan( knowledge of any noun or verb longer than four letters. The effing and blinding was ferocious, the badinage it embellished was desperate . I have sel-dom sat so long and celebrated so little."2 This is not from some drinking den after hours or some adolescent playground, but from a prestigious hotel in a capital city, sponsored by an international company. These are the winners, not the losers, evidendy cocooned in their pei'sonal world, free to pursue their own agendas regard-less of others' feelings. Obviously they succeed, with prizes to prove it. Such behavior coarsens whatever it gets near. The name Jesus Christ in that company is invariably an expletive or a joke. Many feed on that diet and develop a taste for it, and so lack the nour-ishment to grow in Christ. This is a major reason for lack of reli-gious practice generally and for the small number of persons willing to commit themselves to a life of religious consecration. Also, it is something I need to consider if I am to find the means to give myself in adoration through the perspective of faith. How much of this has a claim on me? The evidence of hearing, if I am blessed with it, is that contemporary care to be "politically correct" in speech goes hand in hand with a massive rise in offensive lan-guage, not least among the educated. The coarsening of sensibil-ity by elements of the media makes it harder to find and faithfully use the means to achieve mature meaning as the gospel would have us do. Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. I am not made.of stone--how much have I succumbed to this environment? Necessary Means Living in such an environment, I need something practical that can help me maintain a Christian perspective, both encour-aging me and challenging me. IfI have that "something," I have a means for pursuing meaning, the fullness of which, for religious liv-ing, is adoration that engages my whole being. Several practical suggestions could be made, but assimilating Scripture is one that can help, both in judging society and guiding Review for Religious me through it. Scripture, after all, is the accumulated experience of people trying to relate their society to God. More particularly, it was largely the original inspiration behind monastic and reli-gious life. Monastic life began as a statement about contemporary society and the primacy of God. It has been said that God is either 6f sole concern or of no concern. After hearing Scripture speak and then seeing that many contemporary values either opposed or limited the freedom of faith, many persons became aware that they had to cut the cable between themselves and society. Writing of the origin of monastic life in the 4th century, a commentator notes that "what is utterly clear., is the pulsing life the sacred texts give to the daily existence of the early monks. ¯ They serve as a basic frame of reference . In. memorization, rumination, and medita-tion of Scripture, words penetrated the deepest recesses of the soul and created ne~v possibilities and challenges.''3 The Spirit who so energized the word that it came ablaze with meaning and inspiration for those pioneers can do as much for me now if I do some "humble loving listening to him who speaks. It is in fact by the light and with the strength of the word of God that my own vocation can be discovered and understood, loved, and followed and my own mis-sion carried out. So true is this that the person's entire existence finds its unifying and radical meaning in being the terminus of God's word.''4 This is a colossal claim for Scripture, namely, that all strands of life can be brought together, and meaning can be recognized at the depth of my being, if only I am attuned to Scripture. The claim is for ontological meaning in my being's depths. This guar-antees a fusion of means and meaning. Scripture is a superb coun-terweight to much in current society which could keep me from God. As the light of the word slowly dawns, adoration may well be my being's basic response. Perhaps never before in the history of the church has Scripture been available to so many. The means of communication undoubt-edly facilitate this, but this does not mean that, with the media present everywhere, the Christian message is too. In my wide experience of monastic and religious life, home and abroad, for thirty years, I have yet to be convinced that this is so. To what Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. .~anuary-February 2001 MacdonhM ¯ Vocational Being 442 degree can we speak of "the pulsing life of the sacred texts" influ-encing consecrated.life generally? How many understand what it is to be "a terminus of the word of God"? I have never forgotten Protestant scholar Frederick C. Grant's comment in 1966 on Dei Verbum, the Vatican Council's Constitution on Divine Revelation: "Why not tell people what joyful discoveries lie before them in the Scriptures, what feasts of learning, what inspiration and encouragement, what sound teach-ing, what help in facing the problems and frustrations of life? As the prophet shouted, 'Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price'" (Is 55:1).s How many individually or collectively "shout" or reflect such enthusi-asm from personal conviction? Here is a superb means to assimi-late meaning, but how many habitually make it their own? Grant's approach may yet be rather new to us. It may take generations before Scripture is sufficiently bedded down among us to produce such results. Scholarship, excellent at the highest level, has perhaps not found a way of enlightening us. Source criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, reader-response, structural lin-guistics, and so forth make an ever lengthening list; and so people nibble among the commentators and do not get round to assimi-lating the text. In a sad comment on his university studies, a priest spoke of "the acid rain of biblical criticism" and its effect on him vis-a-vis our Lord. If I am hooked already on Scripture and well know what Grant experienced, then current biblical commentaries and journals can help me. Regrettably, though, many of these scholarly materials seem to lack the warmth that could come from a community's fervently.shared faith; they seem not to reflect the wondrous joy that our risen Lord brought to the early church. Has any English writer, for example, during the past twenty years or so, been so fascinated withSt. Paul (man and writer) as to claim failure to do him justice if Paul does not leap from his pages and invade the reader's imagination? This is Richard Holmes's purpose in a superb biography of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He wants Coleridge's voice to be heard and to domi-nate the book. (His own edition of Coleridge's poetry functioned as ~a controlling influence on the biography.) Holmes serves the poet far better than any Christian writer has served--unless I missed it--St. Paul. In the seminary, not uncommonly, Paul is approached as an Review for Religqous intellectual problem, and the student is made to jump hurdles, to no very clear purpose. Scholars give the impression of seeing Paul as a maverick, like an unconventional student the disapproving examiner never knows how to place: "He is here to be examined, and clearly is not quite one of us!" This is a pity. (Bonhoeffer believed, incidentally, that the Sermon on the Mount could never be lived in a university context.) Paul is, of course, larger than any one pen can capture, but, rooted in Christ and in people and in his own evident humanity, his experi-ence is a genuine way of fusing both means and meaning in an authentically consecrated life. No one seeking inspiration in Scripture need read a line of St. Paul. The Law, the Prophets, and the rest of the Old Testament spread a lavish table. In the Synoptics, the sharp observation to be found in a saying of Christ or in a parable can open up much to me, as can pondering the weight of wonder of a phrase of Christ in John's Gospel. One needs only to experience them to feel their power, to bring means and meaning together. Whatever the form of prayer, wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Adoration There can be no one way or best way 'of being a religious. There are presumably as many ways to God as there are human beings called to him. But, as I have suggested, if we need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then we have found meaning. Taken out of myself by what I glimpse in faith, I respond in adoration as well as I can with all that is in me. Much in contemporary society obscures this glimpse, but Scripture can be a countervailing practical means to realize meaning. The church and monastic and religious life have for centuries found their deep-est reality through the Gospels. To adore, I need only to see in faith; then, following the rhythm of my breathing, I give myself to God giving himself to me. This is true, whatever the situation or however I feel. I always return to, though actually I never leave, that center. My being is engaged. The insight is increasingly more simple. Whatever the form of prayer (sacramental, liturgical, community, or individual), ~anuary-Februa~. 2001 Macdonald * Vocational Being wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Whatever is said, sung, or signed expresses this. Far from making me a maverick on the edge of a group, adoration invites me to be at one with the church in the worship of Christ. If habitual adoration underlies all I do, I can give myself faith-fully to whatever the present moment asks of me, yet not be taken over by it, since my identity does not depend on what I do or where I am. There is always, in faith, another dimension to real-ity not limited to the frame of circumstance. I function at a sim-ple level, trying t6 be at one with God's will, which, of course, is the purpose of monastic or religious life. In attempting this, I approximate the purity of line and color by which the painter real-izes his meaning. Whatever I am engaged in and whoever is with me, insofar as I adore I can recognize the gift of God and who it is speaking to me. Then, as John's Gospel promises, I can tap into a rich stream. On the other hand, pastoral plans, catechetical pro-grams, and personal apostolates are channels that may be awash by turns with limpid idealism or murky disillusion. If I invest in them, my "salvation" depends on,their success or failure; but, if I give myself to them in the light of adoration, I will receive both pru-dence and courage to persevere faithfully far from the criterion of "what's in it for me." Risen Lord I can summarize these reflections, perhaps, with a comment from M.R. Vincent's preface to his Commentary on St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. More than one hundred years ago he indicated what might be found in a letter written from prison nineteen hun-dred years earlier. His words are relevant today: "While the char-acter of the epistle is ethical . . . it gives no countenance to resolving the gospel into a mere code of morals. The moral inspi-ration which it represents has its impelling center in a person and a life, not in a code. The personal Christ is its very heart. It exhibits Christ in Paul rather than before him. Christ is not a subject of controversy; he is not simply a pattern of conduct. He is the sum of Paul's life. Th~ view of the resurrection which this letter pre-sents is a standing rebuke to the superficial conception and loose grasp which the church too often brings to that truth. The resur-rection of the.Lord is to Paul a present informing energy and not only a recovery anda hope. He would know the power of the res- Review for Religious urrection now and here as well as hereafter. He not only lives according to Christ's life; he lives it I.n. Christ he is in the sphere of infinite possibilities.''6 Here surely is the fusion of means and meaning. As Paul keeps growing, by Christ's life, into Christ, he breaks out of prison in a letter of encouragement, alive with the light of his risen Lord. Not death itself, the ultimate in defeat and separation, can come between him and his risen Lord, who is for him "a present inform-ing energy and not only a recovery and a hope." The stance of adoration is not that of the self-made individual over against the universe, with a supporting cast of witless nobodies lost on the plains below. Life has "its impelling center in a person and a life" and therefore takes meaning from our once crucified and now risen Lord. In Christ I am lost in the wonder of it all, a new creation in view of whom I see and what I am given moment by moment from before time began. Literally, it beggars description. The silence of adoration, as it deepens, is eloquent though inadequate response. Held by the prese~nce of my risen Lord in every situation not excluding death, I too believe that in Christ I am in the sphere of infinite possibilities. He it is who gives meaning to life. Insofar as I allow him to make me his, I live to some purpose and try to express this in what I do. Assimilating Scripture is a superb means toward such maturity. Speechless adoration from the core of my being may become habitual, in view of the wondrousness of the One I am graced to see. I have not the means to ~:eplicate Botticelli's Adoring Virgin and Child on canvas, but from the per-spective of faith I am awash in that same wonder. Notes ~ National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh, 2000. 2 Gillian Reynolds, The Daily Telegraph, London, 9 May 2000. 3 Douglas Burton-Christie, The Word in the Desert: Scripture and the Quest for Holiness in Early Christian Monasticism (Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 298-299. 4 John Paul II, Pastores dabo ~obis (On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day), 25 March 1992, §47. s Walter M. Abbott SJ, ed., The Documents of Vatican H (Chapman, 1966), pp. 130-131. 6 M.R. Vincent, Critical and Exegetical CommentaTy on the Ep#tles to the Pbilippians and to Philemon (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1897). January-February 2001 MARY ANNE FOLEY Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and ¯the Ignatian Tradition spiritual legacy In the 16th century the Society of Jesus represented an innovation in consecrated life for men, differing in struc-ture and aim from both monastic and mendicant forms and supported by Ignatius's approach to contemplation and action. Ignatian spirituality appealed also to women seeking a life of service outside the cloister, and Jesuit influence is apparent in the formation of women's com-munities as varied as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Sisters of St. Joseph in the 17th century and the Religious of the Sacred Heart in the 19th. By contrast, when Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620- 1700) was founding the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal in the latter part of the 17th century, her closest collaborators were not Jesuits; they were Sulpicians, other diocesan priests, and women like Madame de Miramion who were forming similar com'- munities. As a result the congregation is usually seen as a product of the so-called French school of spirituality? Mary Anne Foley CND, who discussed women's commu-nities in our July-August 2000 issue, wrote this article.for the 300th anniversary of the death of Marguerite Bourgeoys. After translation by E Richer, it first appeared as "Spiritualitfi pour la mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys et la tradition ignatienne" in Cahiers de spiritualit~ ignatienne (April-June 2000, pp. 79-91). Her address is University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review for Religious The congregation's spirituality, however, as seen in the writings of its foundress, reveals considerable affinity with Ignatian spiri-tuality. We shall ~xplore those parallels, but first a word about the congregation's origins is in order. From Marguerite Bourgeoys's perspective, the congregation began in her own experience of transformation at the age of twenty, occasioned by her gazing at a statue of Mary. As a result of this "conversion," as she calls it, she joined a group of laywomen asso-ciated with the cloistered Congregation de Notre-Dame in her native Troyes and chose Antoine Jendret, the local pastor, as her spiritual advisor. From Jendret she learned to see the "vie voyagkre" (missionary life) of the Blessed Virgin as a model for uncloistered religious life for women. At the same time, the congregation sis-ters trained her to teach children who could not attend their monastery school and shared with her their enthusiasm for estab-lishing a monastery in New France. Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve, brother of the congregation's superior and governor of the new settlement ofVille-Marie (Montreal), recognized the impossibility of establishing a monastery there at that time. Instead, he requested a single lays. oman to serve as teacher, and Marguerite agreed to go in that capacity. When she arrived in 1653, Ville-Marie was a small settlement, precarious both geographically and financially. It had been estab-lished eleven years earlier by an association of pious men and women in France who hoped to incorporate French and native people into a Christian society, thus creating a spirited church in the New World. Among the associates was Jean-Jacques Olier, founder and first superior of the Sulpicians. Unable to go him-self, he sent four members of his society to Ville-Marie in 1657 to establish its first parish. As "filles de paroisse" (women of the parish) Marguerite and the women who would soon join her were thus greatly influenced by the Sulpicians of Ville-Marie. Moreover, from Paris the third superior of the Society, Louis Tronson, was actively involved in decisions concerning the congregation and proved one of their staunchest advocates) In 1659 four recruits came from France to share Marguerite's simple, mobile way of life and her educational commitment in imi-tation of Mary's vie voyag~re. Over the course of the century, more than fifty women--native, French, and native-born French--joined this new Congregation de Notre-Dame, extending its reach from Ville-Marie to Quebec and beyond. Marguerite served as supe- January-Febr~ary 2001 rior until 1693, providing spiritual as well as practical leadership. Among her relatively few extant writings are several prayers and numerous reflections on the nature of the congregation, most of which appear to be conference notes of varying lengths. Brief and fragmentary though these texts are, they provide interesting glimpses of the spirituality that informed the congregation she founded.3 Gathering Up the Drops of Christ's Blood A brief, isolated passage in Marguerite Bourgeoys's writings presents a forceful description of the source, characteristics, and aim of the sisters' missionary activity: Consider, dear, that when you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost. How happy a sister who is sent on mission will be if she considers that she goes there at God's command and in his company, if she considers that in this work she can and ought to show her gratitude to him from whom she has received all things. Oh, she will find nothing difficult or burdensome at all! She will, on the contrary, wish to be in want of every-thing, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in disgrace. (W'W!B, 78) This passage may well represent the words with which Marguerite Bourgeoys invited the sisters to go forth from the central house in Ville-Marie to missions all over New France. Her description of the congregation's aim as "gathering up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost" is strongly reminiscent of a phrase employed by Paul Le Jeune sJ, superior of the Jesuit mission in Canada. In a letter written to his superior in France in 1633 and later published and widely disseminated, he attempted to persuade wealthy women in France to support the creation of a school for native women in New France: If they applied part [of their income] to gather the drops of blood of the Son of God shed for so many souls that are lost every day for la~k of help, they would not blush with shame on the day they appear before God to render an account of the goods for which he has made them responsible.4 Two years later he renewed the request, exclaiming, "What glory in the sight of the angels, to have gathered the blood of the Son of God to apply it to these poor unbelievers! "s Review for Religious What is particularly striking is that for Le Jeune the "gather-ing" was to be accomplished by women who worked for the edu-cation of other women. Initially he suggested that the school be run by "some good courageous widow assisted by two brave young women."6 By 1635, however, numerous women in French monas-teries, "overcoming the fear natural to their sex," had offered to come to educate native women and girls. This led Le Jeune to alter his original plan and to ask that a French benefactor endow a monastery whose members would carry out the work of educa-tion: "Will not some brave lady be found to give these Amazons of the great God a passport, endow-ing them with a house in which to praise and serve His Divine Majesty in this other world?"7 Madame de la Peltrie responded to that request, and the Ursuline monastery was soon founded in Quebec as a result. Marguerite Bourgeoys's writ-ings never indicate that she read Paul Le Jeune's letters, but, given the sisters' interest in the Canadian missions, she very likely did so during her association with the Congregation de Notre-Dame in Troyes. Thus, his use of the image of gathering Christ's blood probably influenced her directly. Furthermore, although there were no Jesuits in Ville-Marie from 1657 until the end of the century, she may also have been influenced indirecdy by their approach to missionary activity through her continued con-tact with Jesuits in Quebec. Although Marguerite Bourgeoys may consciously or uncon-sciously have adopted Le Jeun~'s metaphor for mission, she mod-ified it in several ways. In the first place, she used the word ramasser, instead of recueillir, with respect to what was to be done with the drops of blood. There is a difference of nuance here. The former term suggests picking up scattered bits and pieces, and the latter suggests taking in a unified quantity (such as a harvest),s This difference in vocabulary may not be particularly significant in itself,9 but another passage from the Writings makes it clear that for her the mission of education did indeed involve gathering up the individual drops of Christ's blood: "When you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost." January-Febr~ary 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali.ty_for Mission It is work suited to draw down the graces of God if it is done with purity of intention, without distinction between the poor and the rich, between relatives and friends and strangers, between the pretty and the plain, the easy-going and the grumblers, looking upon them all as drops of our Lord's blood. (W'MB, 201) Where Le Jeune had used the imagery of gathering the blood to describe specifically the education of the native women and chil-dren, here it seems to refer to all the individuals taught by the sis-ters. (By the time these lines were written, in the 1590s, they were probably teaching few native children.) If all these individuals are the drops of Christ's blood, they must be treated as sacred objects. Teaching, then, becomes a holy activity, since it brings the sisters in close contact with those sacred objects. Second, Marguerite underlined the urgency of the sisters' mis-sion by the way she extended the metaphor of the drops of blood. Le Jeune remarks that the souls of "these poor unbelievers" for whom Christ's blood has been shed are being lost; Marguerite Bourgeoys suggests that the drops of Christ's blood themselves are being lost. So important is this to her understanding that we may interpret her as going beyond mere metaphor in her reference to the drops of blood. Since the writing of the first Letter to the Corinthians, Christian theologians have often spoken of the bap-tized as constituting the body of Christ in a real, though mystical sense. For Marguerite Bourgeoys, those who needed to learn of Christ's teachings were his blood in that same mystical sense,l° Rather than allow even one drop of that blood to be wasted, a sis-ter would travel anyw.here she was sent and endure whatever was necessary for the mission. Indeed, the act of teaching was both sacred and urgent. A prayer for the congregation written on 4July 1693, at the end of her extended service as the community superior, reveals the con-nection she saw between the sisters' mission and the passion of Christ. Declaring that her trust was not in her own powers, she tells God: "I base my trust on the merits of the precious blood given for my ransom, and with your grace I would rather give up life itself than fail to uphold the truth of your words" (W-M!~, 163). Her willingness to lose her life in order to make Christ's teachings known recalls the desire "to endure all sorts of suffering and even to die in disgrace," which she claimed was characteristic of the sis-ter who traveled on mission in God's company. Her belief that the Review for Religious missionary congregation sisters would desire to suffer in the course of their mission echoes a passage from the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola describing "the most perfect kind of humility" pos-sible for one who has decided to follow Christ: Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in real-ity more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me.~ As was true for Ignatius, Marguerite Bourgeoys believed the source of missionary activity for the congregation sister to be a call from the God "from whom she has received all things." Her missionary work is thus a grateful response to God's initiative: "She goes there at God's command." If the sister's mission comes from a divine invitation, then her going will be "in his company." The implication is that going on mission is a way for her to be present to God, a way of participating in God's activity, and hence a way of becoming holy. This is why she should be able to view any deprivation that she suffers in the course of her mission as a pos-itive advantage. "To be in want of everything, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in dis-grace" is to enter more profoundly into the way of Christ, whose mission was characterized by the shedding of his blood. Imitating Mary's Vie Voyag~re While the desire to gather up the drops of Christ's blood pro-vided motivation for the sisters' mission of education, Marguerite turned elsewhere for a way to depict their way of exercising that mission: the life Mary led on earth. The 17th century was remarkable for widespread and intense devotion to Mary, notably among the members of what has been called the French school of spirituality. In order to emphasize the greatness of God's working in her, they tended to focus on Mary's humility, dwelling on both the poverty of her origins and her hum-ble willingness to serve as the future mother of God. Furthermore, their insistence on the paradoxical juxtaposition of the "grandeurs" of Jesus in the midst of his humiliations led Cardinal de B~rulle and January-February 2001 Foley ¯ SpiritnalityforMission For Marguerite Bourgeoys the primary form of devotion to Mary was to honor her vie voyag re, her missionary life. his followers to reflect at length on the life of Jesus in Mary's womb. This is apparent in Olier's prayer "O Jesu vivens in Maria" and in their reflections on the Word's action in Mary's visitafon to Elizabeth. The visitation became central to Marguerite Bourgeoys's spirituality, as shall be seen; she shared as well the French school's emphasis on Mary's "littleness" which enabled her to become the instrument of God's power. While her version of the life of Mary reflects many of the the-ological concerns of her day, some of her contemporaries might have been puzzled by its omissions and even more by its focus. She refers very briefly to what most consider the two central moments in Mary's life, Jesus' nativity and his cru-cifixion. She merely notes that the circumstances of Christ's birth reveal Mary's love of poverty and the poor and that her presence at Calvary reveals her faithfulness, her accep-tance of God's plan of redempfon. In writings no longer available to us, she may have said more, but, given the detail she provides about other events in Mary's life, Marguerite's lack of attention to the nativity and crucifixion is at least suggestive. In contrast to B4rulle, for example, the brevity of her comments and the absence of sentimentality are quite striking. Even more striking is her focus on Mary's activity, rather than her passivity. Certainly she portrays Mary as the recipient of divine favor: God chose her, preserved her from sin, and made her Mother Of God and then Queen of heaven. But Marguerite pays far more attention to what Mary did. She shows her teaching and serving the other girls in the temple and making a vow of virginity. At the time of the annunciation, we see Mary imploring, preparing her-self, consenting, and offering herself to God. After that event she visits Elizabeth, gives birth to Jesus, receives shepherds and kings, and loses and. finds her child. Having witnessed Christ's teachings and keeping them in her heart, she teaches and encourages people during his public life, and afterwards she forms and reforms the members of the Christian community, even after her death, up to the present time. Review for Religious This focus on Mary's activity is in keeping with the advice Marguerite Bourgeoys gave her sisters: "To imitate our dear Foundress, we ought to go through her life and stop at what our Lord inspires us to do" (WMB, 52). In this emphasis she differed somewhat from the French school, for whom devotion took the form of reflecting on the eternal--and internal--"states" of Christ's and Mary's lives in order to enter those states oneself. Thus, even though he considered Mary a model of priestly and apostolic activ-ity, Jean-Jacques Olier still advocated above all a devotion to the "interior life" of Mary. The French school has in this respect been contrasted with Ignatius Loyola, whose Spiritual Exercises involve meditating on the words and particularly the actions of God, Christ, and the saints in order to imitate them.~2 While Marguerite Bourgeoys's random reflections are far different from the highly structured meditations of the Exercises, her focus on Mary's activity is more Ignatian than Berullian. Her approach to the life of Mary, however, was not that of many early-17th-century Jesuit writers, who cul-tivated a highly imaginative form of popular devotion that focused on the details of Mary's life. They were accused, not always unfairly, of promoting an exaggerated devotion to Mary that at times superseded the need for fidelity to the commandments.'3 For Marguerite Bourgeoys and for the congregation sisters, the primary form of devotion to Mary was honoring her vie voyag~re, her missionary life: M. Jendret told me one day that our Lord had left three call-ings for women to follow him and serve the church: that of St. [Mary] Magdalen was taken up by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of Saint Martha, by cloistered reli-gious who serve their neighbor; but the calling to the jour-neying life of the Virgin Mary, which needed to be honored, had not yet been taken up." (WMB, 142) Elsewhere she explains that because Mary was a teacher she incorporated the lives of both Martha and Mary Magdalen into her own: "The blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included every-thing in her own person to an eminent degree" (WMB, 77). This depiction of Mary's "mixed" active and contemplative life was not original to Jendret,14 but he may have been the first to apply that analogy to women's communities. Nor was it common to speak of her vie voyag?re. Ordinarily the phrase refers to Christians who are still living on earth, as opposed to those who ffanuary-Februa~y 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali~forMission have passed on to glory or purification--and sometimes to the public life of Jesus.~s For many 17th-century spiritual writers, this earthly, transitory, active aspect of Christ's or Mary's life was less inspiring and worthy of attention than their enduring states. By their attention to Mary's vie voyag~re, then, Antoine Jendret and Marguerite Bourgeoys presented an alternative approach to one of the central symbols of holiness in the Christian tradition. That approach had very concrete implications for the little congregation in Ville-Marie. In order to fulfill their educative mis-sion throughout New France, the sisters had to remain free to move wherever there was need. However, because holiness was most often identified with separation from "the world," and because of women's supposed fragility, ecclesiastical legislation during much of Christian history sought to protect consecrated women by insisting that they remain behind cloister walls. Indeed, the two first bishops of New France attempted to impose cloister on the congregation by urging their union with the Ursulines of Quebec. Marguerite Bourgeoys's response was to point to Mary: "The Blessed Virgin was never cloistered. She did indeed retire into an interior solitude, but she never excused herself from any journey on which there was some good to be done or some work of charity to be performed. We wish to follow her in some way" (WMB, 50). Without calling into question the value of life within a clois-ter, this .passage suggests that for Mary, and for those who wish to live her missionary way of life, love of neighbor can constitute a higher value. Clearly Marguerite shared the traditional view that this sort of uncloistered vie voyagkre could be dangerous, but she believed that those who imitated Mary's way of life would be pro-tected by an "interior solitude" and by their union with God in prayer. Dangerous or not, if Mary's work of building up the church by educating its women was to continue, then it was not only pos-sible but necessary for some women to follow her way of life. The Visitation Traditionally the sisters of the congregation renew their vows on the Feast of the Visitation. This suggests that for them Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-52) is paradigmatic of their desire to become holy by going forth as missionaries. During the 17th century, however, the visitation was not nec-essarily associated with women who remained free to move out in Review for Religious order to serve their neighbor. In a reflection first published in 1679, the Capuchin Louis-Francois d'Argentan interpreted Mary's going up into the hill country as a reference to her ascent to God through contemplation and her willingness to share in God's redemptive plan. In this presentation, Mary is essentially passive in the encounter with Elizabeth, simply allowing the Word within her to speak in her.voice. D'Argentan suggests that during the visit Mary manifests humility by helping with household tasks, ardent charity (which he does not discuss further), and the way to engage in holy conversation with the neighbor. For him the ulti-mate fruit of reflection on the visitation is making "powerful resolutions to love seclusion, silence, and solitude, scorning all the rest so as to be attentive only to what is necessary, that is to say, to God alone and to the great matter of our eternity.''6 Such an interpretation of the visitation was not foreign to Marguerite Bourgeoys's thought. She too was convinced that Mary loved and was a model of soli-tude- but also was a model of conversation with others--and that the most important aspect of her encounter with Elizabeth was God's action in sanctifying the unborn John the Baptist. Nonetheless, here as always, Marguerite Bourgeoys's attention remained focused on Mary's activity and its effects. Moreover, her interpretation of that activ-ity contrasts with that of d'Argentan and even Francis de Sales, cofou

Issue 59.4 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; )ULY: AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 to Gbd~s ,univerial call, to holiness by ~n~aking available :to tb~mJtbe~piritual legaHes }bat flow from tbe cbarism~ of Catbolic ~onse~ated 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: foppema@slu.edu 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 P.O. Box 29260; ~VVashington, D.C. 20017 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. ©2000 Re'biew for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (article~, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review 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 James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ ¯ Patricia Wittberg SC JULY AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 contents 342 women religious Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities Mary Anne Foley CND presents the renewal of women's communities as a work in progress which faces the challenge to move beyond .present viewpoints in order to see a fuller truth. 358 A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence Bernadine Pieper CHM shares her experience of being in leadership at the time of Vatican II changes. 368 finding God Einding God's WiII--A Maneuver W. Henry Kenney Sj describes a process for finding God's will by popping loaded questions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. 379 Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB guides us to the central core of ourselves where we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. Review for Religious religious vocations Tell Them, Tell the New Members. Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ proposes the need to share with younger members of congregations hints about what is most central to religious life: the mystery of divine intimacy. 396 Sister Moms: Something Old, Something New Louise Cababe OP reports on the contemporary phenomenon of women, having been married and having raised a family, bringing a new and beautiful experience to religious congregations. 399 Vocational Confidence Donald Macdonald SMM sketches out an environment of vocational confidence whei'e vocations are invited, expected, challenged, and supported. 410 prayer perspectives Praying through Sleep A. Paul Dominic SJ explores various relationships between our sleeping and our praying. 420 Toward a Spirituality of Weariness Michael D. Moga SJ considers some of the paths that lead to spiritual treasures hidden in the areas of our exhaustion and weariness. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Exceptions to Duration of the Canonical Novitiate 435 Book Reviews July-August 2000 prisms Te jubilee year we are cele-brating provides us a challenge to our observance of the Sabbath. Sabbath has always been identified with the seventh day--the day of the Lord's rest after the six days' work of creation as depicted in chapter one of.the Book of Genesis. The Christian tradition reidentified the Lord's day with the resurrection victory of Jesus, bringing to fullness the work of redemption. The idea of refraining from work has often received greater attention even though the church has always identified "making holy" the Lord's day--Sunday--by the twofold obligation of celebrating the Eucharist and doing no servile work. Of course, there h~s been a lot of moral casuistry applied to the meaning of servile work, so much, perhaps, that the focus on God slipped because of the overwhelming emphasis on human activity--what was right, what was wrong, how long or how drudging could the work be, and so On. Pe.rhaps this year of jubilee can be a call to us to mov~ beyond the casuistry and to recapture the spirit of the Sabbath. Sabbath means, above all, a chosen awareness of spending time with God. If we are to spend time with God, then we have to take time for ourselves--not just time filled up with more "doing," even .with passive sporting events or active participations in games, but time which we describe so well today in terms of just "being." Sabbath is meant to be a deeply humane time because then God can become more active in us. Sabbath points to the movement of the oft-quoted expression of St. Irenaeus: "God's glory is the human being come fully alive, and seeing God is what human life is." Review for Religqous Eucharist belongs to the Christian Sunday observance because we celebrate God's glory shining out in the victorious risen Jesus, the firstborn of the new creation. But what else for us belongs to our Sabbath observance? What enhances our relationship with God? In other words, how do we devote time to making ourselves more humane--loving, compassionate, wise, generous, available, shar-ing- so that God's glory does shine out now through us? When we truly observe the Sabbath, we are more and more like the sacra-ments of God that our Christian vocation calls us to be. Another viewpoint. In the northern hemisphere, vacation time is upon us. Vacation, being personal rest time, shares in the sabbath notion. We sometimes refer to spiritual retreats as "vacations with God." Retreats, of course, take their focus from considering our relation with God. But would we be acting more Christian if we viewed ordinary vacation time through a prism similar to our Sunday observance? Vacation time does not need to be spent "reli-giously," performing devotional prayers and acts. But would it not be appropriate for us Christians to spend our recuperative and relaxing time with a more spiritual focus? Vacation means a time of "emptying out" (of mental cobwebs and secular preoccupations) and a "leaving space" (for attention to an ever present and loving God) in the ordinariness of our life. "Keep holy the sabbath day," then, should draw our attention not to what is to be avoided, but to what enhances our relationship with God, with ourselves, with our neighbor, and with our world. Those relationships are meant to be observed together, as a whole, when we speak of "keeping holy." Keeping holy deals with all our relationships viewed in the light of God and Jesus Christ. 'When we keep holy, we move with the Spirit. We let ourselves be moved by the Spirit--with all those with whom we converse, in all things we do. Jubilee, sabbath, and our secular vacation all find their mean-ing in the one reality of celebrating God in our life. This millen-nium year is the opportunity to remember thht jubilees, sabbaths, and vacations come to us not by some kind of law or right, but by gift--the gift of God. These time periods remind us to take stock and enjoy the God-with-us now so that we take from these "moments" the realized promise and consolation of our lifetime with God forever. ¯David L. Fleming SJ 37uly-August 2000 women MARY ANNE FOLEY Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities religious Last year I spent much of Holy Week working my way through Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities.l The book's reviews did not make me anxious to read it, but I felt obliged to do so. For some years most of my research has focused on the history of religious communities of women, and my concerns about initiating new members have forced me to confront questions about the future of this way of life. Moreover, having lived through the tumultuous past three decades of change in women's communities, I have wanted and needed to gain some perspective on the experience) Although not planned, the timing of my reading proved to be both appropriate and helpful. I felt pain and anger at seeing the women who were most instru-mental in leading the changes characterized as deliber-ately manipulative, bent on revenge, unfaithful, and heretical, and those who moved with the changes they advocated, as naive, foolish, or incapable of under-standing what was taking place. At another time I might have been inclined simply to dismiss Carey's work, but reading it in the shadow of the cross enabled me to lis- Mary Anne Foley CND, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, is an associate professor of the-ology at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review fir Religious ten to what was being said under and through the words, and hence to become vulnerable to it. It was somewhat like the expe-rience of reading The Autobiography ofMakolm X. I knew I was not the "white devil" he came to loathe while in prison, but I began to see why he viewed me in that way and then to recognize my own complicity in his hellish situation. Carey's stated intention is simply to document the significant changes that have taken place within Catholic communities of women in the United States over the last forty years. She does so as a journalist, relying not on her own experience but on personal conversations and extensive archival research. The book's subtitle, however, reveals the perspective from which she writes. She is convinced that the changes have been an aberration, leading these groups away from genuine religious life. Carey belieyes that the sis-ters most disaffected as a result of the changes are afraid to speak for themselves, and so shehas chosen to speak for them. While always naming the "change-oriented" sisters she cites, she often identifies her sources among "traditional" sisters only by the name of their congregation or as Sister S., for example) One of these anonymous sources insists that many older religious are experi-encing "a time of martyrdom" as they risk being "cut off, threat-ened, and persecuted" if they challenge the directions their communities have taken (Crisis, 309). Whether or not this sister represents the views of many others, and even whether or not the threat she describes is real, it is important that she be heard, and Carey challenges the reader to listen. According to Sisters in Crisis, the reason for what emerged during the postconciliar years was, first of all, a program of mis-information concerning authentic Vatican Council II teaching, orchestrated prifiaarily by officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), known earlier as the Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW). Carey traces the rebellion back to the Sister Formation Movement in the 1950s, which exposed young sisters to the social sciences and "controversial and speculative" theology. The Sisters' Survey of 1966-1967, con-ducted by the CMSW, is presented as playing a key role in "indoc-trinating" sisters about possible new directions for change. The definitive step in the process of "co-opting" and "stealing" the renewal is said to be the "coup" by which the officers of the CMSW altered the nature of their organization by arranging for a revision of its bylaws and changing its name from CMSW to LCWR. At var- July-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis ious points in the process, in Carey's view, the Vatican issued clear mandates to return to a more controlled process of renewal, but these leaders refused to obey. Opposing Perspectives Since Lora Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner were among the leaders of the LCWR during the 1970s and 1980s, it is not sur-prising that their interpretation of the last forty years is diamet-rically the opposite of Carey's. As a result, reading their book, The Transformation of the American Catholic Sister, in conjunction with Sisters in Crisis was both fascinating and unsettling. According to Quifionez and Turner, the changes in women's communities are not the result of a plan devised by a few politically astute activists and then foisted upon an undereducated and unsuspecting mass of sisters. Rather, the transformation of these communities reflects a maturing of American sisters at large; that is, they have grown more conscious of their identity as Americans, as women, and as moral agents? Given this difference in interpretation, it is interesting to note the substantial agreement of these two works on the importance of the Sister Formation movement and especially the LCWR in shap-ing the last forty years of religious life in the United States. Both are clear that the Sisters' Survey went beyond its original purpose of assessing the readiness of American sisters and the availability of resources for the renewal mandated by Vatican II. Both con-clude that the survey itself affected that renewal. And both main-tain that underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. As Carey describes it, "some women religious determined that their own 'lived experience' was more valid for defining religious life than were any of the direc-fives coming from the church" (Crisis, 75). Quifionez and Turner not only agree; they chart the emergence of that beliefi "Sisters began to notice that even long-held and never-to-be-challenged philosophical and theological premises lent themselves to the pur-poseful sounding of experience, personal and social. Experience possessed its own authority" (Transformation, 38). More significant still is the fact that neither work acknowl-edges the possibility that those whose perspective on renewal is different could contribute something toward a more profound renewal. This is more apparent in Sisters in Crisis. Although Carey Revie~v for Religious admits that at times ignorance may have played a role in the deci-sions that were made, for the most part she attributes baser motives to the main actors: "Some religious institutes purposely expanded the years between general chapters so that experiments could be stretched out. Others purposely incorporated items into their con-stitutions that they knew would never be approved by Rome so they could continue experimenting endlessly" (Crisis, 38-39). Quifionez and Turner are far more nuanced in their expression, and they do not impute motivation to such groups as the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, which consisted largely of community leaders who had renounced membership in the LCWR. However, the absence of any critique of actions taken by the LCWR makes the reader suspect that their account may not be as objective as it first appears. This becomes particularly evi-dent in the concluding chapter of Tran~Corrnation, where Quifionez and Turner list questions to be resolved if religious communities of women are to have a future in the United States. They accurately iden-tify one of the key questions: Is it helpful or even honest to retain canonical status? But they proceed to a further series of questions, all of which imply that the only possible answer to the question of canonical status is no. Moreover, in noting that the hierarchy and the sisters must face the questions honestly, they assert that such a process "will exact a different price from each of them. For the hierarchy it will mean giving up dominative ways of governing; for sisters it will entail laying claim to rightful uses of power. For both, it will involve owning that they are peers, no matter how distinct their role in the church" (Transformation, 167). Tran~orrnation offers ample evidence of "dominative ways of governing" by members of the hierarchy, and even Carey admits that the church officials have been "obstinate" at times. These few words seem to imply that only the hierarchy has misused power and that sisters' only sin has been the failure to use it. This would surely be an oversimplification, of a sort that would tend to polarize further those who disagree about the direction the changes have taken. Underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. July-Auffust 2000 S#ters in Crisis was published five years after Transformation and appears to be intended in part as a response to that work, a sort of revisionist history. While Quifionez and Turner did not have the opportunity to respond to Carey's assertions directly, the current leadership of the LCWR responded by claiming that the women in American religious, communities today are not "sisters in crisis," but rather "sisters in service."s There is truth in this assertion. Many of those castigated by Carey really are performing service of inestimable value, and for them to focus more on that service than on institutional survival does not call for the word "tragic" in Carey's subtitle. But that is not to say that I think there is no ~ri-sis. 6 It has been common in recent years to refer to the two Chinese characters that together convey the meaning of crisis, one referring to danger and the other to opportunity. Carey is right: there is a real danger that women's religious communities as we have known them in the United States will become extinct. But the LCWR leadership is also right in noting that the service which women's communities offer indicates a time of great poten-tial. Here I offer some reflections on how the opportunity pre-sent in this moment of crisis may be recognized and embraced. A Window of Opportunity The story is told of two men seated in the same room in a library. One was very hot and opened the room's only window. The other, afraid that his papers would blow all over, immediately closed, it, only to have it reopened by the first. The reaction of the other can be guessed. When the librarian saw the brewing conflict, she went into the next room and opened the window there, thus providing cool air without creating a disruptive, breeze.7 It seems to me that those who find themselves in deadlock on how women's communities have come to be where they are need to discover another window through which to view the last three decades. For this they may well be helped by James Fowle~:'s the-ory of faith development. For Fowler faith is a verb; it is how a per-son makes meaning of the world. We tend to "faith" in a particular way until that way of making meaning no longer works for us and compels us to make meaning differently; this he describes as a new "stage" of faith.8 During adolescence, for example, many peo-ple begin to base their faith on that of the significant people in their lives. They may have reflected deeply on what they believe Review for Religious and can probably describe the content of their faith, but it is largely tacit. Later the demands of adult life, particularly in a culture no longer homogeneous, often move people toward Individuative- Reflexive faith. Those in this stage can articulate the reasons for their faith. In addition, the source of authority for their faith has moved inward, so that they believe because they have chosen to believe. Even if the content.of their faith remains the same, it has become their own.9 Fowler notes that, as a result of midlife stocktaking, some adults experience yet another transition, to what he calls Conjunctive faith, in which they can peacefully hold their own belief while truly listening to another whose belief is different. No longer do they perceive difference as an attack on their hard-won faith that must be defended at all costs. Rather, the other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief. Such faith is not possible until one has fully moved to the Individuative-Reflexive stage by both internalizing authority and making one's belief explicit. (Otherwise what appears a willingness to allow one's own faith to be influenced by others may simply be a form of the tacit faith that allows others to define what. one believes.) The fruit of Conjunctive faith is real dialogue, which begins with the belief that each one comes to the table with a perspective on the truth and includes the humble acknowledgment ~hat each has in some way failed to serve that truth. Fowler's theory has been applied to the "faithing" process of groups as well as individuals. Of course, not all members of the group are at the same stage at any given time. But the theory can be helpful in describing a group's changing "corporate culture." In the years before the Second Vatican Council, for example, when sisters lived in an environment that exemplified one and the same faith perspective, many were able to make meaning of their world through the tacit faith that the environment supported. As Quifionez and Turner describe that time, "canonical definitions, legislated by church authorities, gave 'religious life' its existence, its legitimacy, and its value" (Transformation, 36). In asking women's communities to return to their sources and to read the signs of The other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief 3%dy-dugust 2000 Foley * Another I4andow on the Crisis the times, the council caused them to become more analytical. At the same time, both the changes sisters began to make and the movements in the church and in society around them weakened many of the structures which had reinforced their commitment, so that those who remained were forced to acquire personal reasons for doing so. The movement between external and internalized authority is well illustrated by the responses which the members of LCWR gave to actual and proposed canons of church law in 1968 and 1977. Quifionez and Turner note that these responses differed, not in content, but in the way they were justified: "While in the 1960s sisters invoked Vatican Council II to legitimate their view-points, in 1977 they relied on the authority of their own experience to ground their critique" (Transformation, 56). This suggests that Carey is mistaken in assuming that most changes were the result of a few very influential leaders imposing on the rest their way of seeing the world. That may have been true for some, but, by illus-trating the extent to which "change-oriented" sisters began to appeal to. personal experience, Carey herself provides evidence that in general these women had come to a personally appropri-ated faith?° In my view, profound as this kind of faith may be, it is limited by the tendency to exalt one's internal authority to the extent of being unable to allow one's belief system to be affected by oth-ers. This can make it almost impossible to move together as a group. At a chapter several years ago, it was proposed that the community as a group fast and abstain on Fridays as a sign of their hunger for peace. One person objected vehemently, not to the action in itself, but to committing the whole group to any practice. Her memory of practices imposed in the past seemed to make it impossible for her to accept such a limitation on individual free-dom, even when that limitation was chosen. I believe that the future of religious communities depends on their moving beyond such a stance toward the deeper openness that constitutes what Fowler calls Conjunctive faith. Over the years, many "change-oriented" sisters have looked at and tried on elements of what Carey calls "the latest theological, sociological, psychological--and eventually New Age--fads" (Crisis, 138). She condemns both this and what she considers an excessive tolerance for the views of everyone. It seems to me, how-ever, that for many sisters the opportunity presented by the pre- Review for Religious sent moment is the call to a still greater openness, by which they can allow themselves to truly listen, on the one hand, to new alter-natives and, on the other, to those who question their new ways of understanding and living. Carey does not provide evidence to sup-port her accusation that "change-oriented" communities have deliberately silenced their more traditional members, and yet I believe that in some cases the voices of these sisters have not been heard, or their views have been dismissed as reactionary, irrational, foolish. Any honest dialogue would have to begin with everyone admitting some failure to listen. Openness to dialogue is possible, though certainly most dif-ficult, when the other is not similarly open. Carey speaks of "dia-logue" as if it is often used like a ploy in a game,11 and her position throughout Sisters in Crisis suggests an unwillingness to concede that "change-oriented" sisters could possess a piece of the truth. That, however, does not free the latter from the need to continue discerning where the critique offered by more traditional sisters has its own truth that deserves to be faithfully responded to. Opening a different window on the future requires humble dialogue around many of the issues raised by Carey, among which are the mission and vowed life of sisters, their place in the church, and the impli-cations of "refounding" religious communities. Mission Even though she acknowledges that justice has played an important role in sisters' traditional apostolates, Carey maintains that "change-oriented" sisters have recently replaced their true, "spiritual" mission with social justice as "a new primary mission" (Crisis, 112). For example, she criticizes the choice of nonviolence as the theme of the 1996 LCWR conference, claiming that this reveals "the conference's continuing priority bf placing sociopo-litical issues ahead of spiritual issues" (Crisis, 242). In this.discus-sion she comes close to what Quifionez and Turner describe as the worldview of sisters before 1960, for whom the sacred and the secular occupy two different spheres. The coauthors contend that since then many sisters have moved beyond such a view and "increasingly frame the meaning of their life in terms of the church's evangelizing mission" (Transformation, 59). The bishops at the 1971 synod called "action on behalf of justice., a consti-tutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel."12 In light of that July-./tugust 2000 Foley ¯ ~lnotber Windo~ on the ~ teaching, Carey's apparently outdated perspective seems to have nothing to offer the women about whom Quifionez and Turner write. Indeed, seeing spirituality as somehow pitted against jus-tice is not helpful. This aspect of Carey's position, however, masks an important criticism that "change-oriented" sisters would do well to recognize. Quifionez and Turner state that dedication to mission has comd to encompass the meaning of many sisters' lives. They cite a "grow-ing tendency . to define religious identity as witness against cultural values and attitudes" and assert further that "work and identity are inseparably related" (Transformation, 79 and. 39). In my view, this comes perilously close to insisting not only that my work is my prayer, but that it is my life. This is indeed what our culture often proposes; I consider.it an area where sisters are called to take a countercultural stance. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice or any other important value. Carey's articulation of the mission of sisters in apostolic com-munities is not satisfactory, but neither is that of Quifionez and Turner. Hence the need for dialogue around what Carey would call the "spiritual" .mission of sisters. Such dialogue could very well occur in the context of the vowed life. Vows Carey claims that many elderly sisters who disapprove of the directions in which their congregations have moved "take very seriously the vows they made, and they are not only disturbed that religious life has been fundamentally restructured in their own communities, but even more alarmed that in the restructured model it is difficult, if not impossible, for them to live out the vows they made to God" (Crisis, 306). Nowhere does Sisters in Crisis explain how the restructuring of communities could make it "impossible for them to live out the vows." Perhaps these sisters believe that, for them to fulfill the demands of obedience and poverty, there must be specific persons designated as superiors who give commands and permissions. If so, a system in which decisions about ministry and the use of goods are made commu-nally may never provide what they are demanding. As has already been noted, Quifionez and Turner maintain Review for Religious that the defining element of many sisters' lives is no longer the vows, but rather witness. This suggests that for these women the concerns of the sisters whose perspective Carey shares are irrel-evant. And yet Quifionez and Turner also say, "For a large num-ber of the women, their shared life has to be linked to ultimacy, to the values of the gospel, to the deepest insights of religious tra-ditions" (Transformation, 166). Just how their lives can be "linked to ultimacy" is an ongoing question that must be addressed if there is to be a future for women's communities. It seems to me that addressing it will be difficult as long as the expression is as vague as that given here. I suspect that the word God is omitted because of the desire to be inclusive. To be sure, speaking of God is dangerous, and moreover help on the journey toward God can come from various traditions, including those that do not name God. But one must begin a journey from some point. Sandra Schneiders has pointed out the danger when communities that consider themselves religious have highly indi-vidualized, and eclectic spiritualities unconnected to the Christian tradition in which the communities are rooted. For such groups, she suggests, "the quiet sidelining of Christian .identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation." 13 Over the centuries Christian women and men have sought to link their lives to ultimate, reality, which they have named God, by means of the vows. They have done this not only and, in my view, not primarily as a witness to others, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to them-selves, they structure their lives around their relationship to God.14 Certainly there is need to reconceive and even reformu-late what is meant by the vows,15 but this must be done with recognition of their connection to the divine and hence of their significance beyond that of any actions .they imply. Vows of this kind must indeed be taken seriously. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice. July-duffust 2000 Foley * Another Window on the Crisis Church Quifionez and Turner say, "Central to their quest for mean-ing, we believe, is the identity of sisters as church women" (Transeormation, 166). But, as Eucharia Malone RSM pointed out as early as 1970, "this relationship with the.church seems to be the point on which we are divided" (see Crisis, 95). In fact, the very definition of church is often at the heart of the polarization within and between women's communities. At first glance it is difficult to imagine a rapprochement between the understandings of church espoused by Carey and by Quifionez and Turner. Sisters in Crisis assumes a church in which the initiative comes from the hierarchy. As a result, Carey implies that sisters' meetings held in 1964-1965 to discuss strategies for renewal were subversive because Perfectae caritatis had not yet been promulgated formally)6 What could she have to say to those for whom church is a discipleship of equals, each of whom is responsible for initiating change? Many traditional as well as "change-oriented" groups have claimed to be following the teachings of Vatican II in their very different approaches to renewal. But the council documents them-selves represent compromises between bishops of various per-spectives. They are often ambiguous concerning the church and hence concerning the role of women's communities within the church. The situation is not unlike what followed in the wake of the last reforming council, the Council of Trent. Like Vatican II, Trent carried its own contradictions within itself,, including both a call for widespread education and an insistence on cloister for women ready to dedicate themselves to the education of young women. The conflicts, that resulted were virtually inevitable. Indeed, the experience of the post-Tridentine church calls into question any notion of reform as neat or uniform in application. In general, Carey fails to place the events she narrates within a larger historical context. She takes the American experience of religious life in the first half of.this century as normative and con-sequendy disparages many of the changes that have occurred since then. Research into the foundations of many communities before this century has revealed considerable struggle, especially with members of the hierarchy, over the very issues of ministry and conformity to monastic lifestyle that so concern Carey?7 Her lack of attention to the history of women's communities appears to be related to her sympathy with the representatives of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, who wanted discussion with LCWR officials Review for Religious to focus on "absolute truths that would transcend., any age, any period of time, any period of history" (Crisis, 283). Quifionez and Turner, on the other hand, are well aware of the various forms in which what is called "religious life" has mani-fested itself over the centuries, accurately noting that it is always a "historically conditioned" phenomenon.~s They are less attentive, however, to the values sought by sizable numbers of contemporary women and their foremother~. For genuine dialogue to take place, it might be necessary to declare a moratorium on valuing things either as "absolute" or as "historically conditioned." It could go far toward healing not only some of the divisions in women's com-munities, but also some of the woundedness of the larger church. Refounding In her concluding chapter Carey addresses herself to tradi-tional sisters who find themselves in communities that have moved away from what she considers the essence of religious life. She believes that such women may be called to "refound" their com-munities, and so offers a number of recommendations for how that might take place: "This refounding must be accomplished by the sisters within those institutes themselves, for refounding of religious orders cannot be mandated or directed by hierarchy, clergy, or laity, though legitimate refounding efforts should be supported by these other groups of people. In the refounding pro-cess, some members of a religious institute may come to the real-ization that their concept of consecrated life really does not fit the church understanding of a religious institute, and so those women may wish to pursue one of the other forms of consecrated life defined by the church" (Crisis, 328). Carey does not clarify why refounding a community "cannot be mandated or directed by the hierarchy" even though that is precisely what she believes its role should have been during the postconciliar renewal. Equally surprising is the open-ended pro-cess she describes, which it cannot be assumed will conform to the standard definition of a religious institute. Of course she assumes that, if what emerges does not fit that definition, the alter-native is another already defined form. In contrast, Vita consecrata, among other documents, assumes that forms not yet defined are also emerging at the present time.19 . In these comments Carey sketches out, no doubt unwittingly, j~uly-/lugust 2000 Fole~ ¯ Another l~ndow on the Crisis what many perceive to have been going on during all these years since the council: initiatives taken by those within the commu-nity, support for those initiatives from (some) other constituencies in the church, and ~n honest confrontation of the questions that traditional understandings of religious life bring to the fore. The element that Carey believes was missing in so many attempts at renewal is "legitimacy," which she understands to be close con-fortuity to the document "Essential Elements of Religious Life," issued by the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1983. Many "change-oriented" sisters and commu-nities consider that sense of legitimacy overly narrow, but in so doing they seem often to have acted as if all changes were equally legitimate. I believe that Carey and others have rightly criticized processes of experimentation that lacked mechanisms of evalua-tion. 2° Many are not fully satisfied with what has emerged in the. course of renewal, but are not sure how to name what is missing. Carey comments sharply on the failure of "change-oriented" communities to attract many new members. In her view, there are only two possible reasons for this, "unselfishness or pathological denial" of the imminent demise of their congregations, and she is quite sure that the latter interpretation is the accurate one. I think' these are false alternatives, though both no doubt play a role at times. A more significant factor in the decline in the number of women joining these communities seems to be a feeling of ambivalence, both among members of women's communities and in the church at large, ambivalence which results in part from massive change without evil-uation and consequently without general ownership. Carey, along with ~¢arious church officials, has declared the period of experimentation for women's communities to be over. But her proposal for refoundation suggests that a new, more pro-found kind of experimentation is just what is called for. The women who are coming to communities these days, particularly those young enough not to have lived through the years immedi-ately following the council, do not share the ambivalence of their older sisters. No doubt it is they who will lead the way in the founding and refounding still to come. Neither/Nor, Looking Anew, Nuancing In my opinion, the renewal of women's communities in the Catholic Church over the past forty years was not "co-opted" or Review for Religious "stolen" by their leaders, but neither has it been fully accom-plished. It is a work in progress, and in that work there has been considerable polarization between different approaches, and mutual recrimination as well. The challenge at this time may be to move beyond present viewpoints, to look through some other window onto those same issues and see a fuller truth. Those who wish to find such a window would do well to heed what Carey has written. Certainly Sisters in Crisis is flawed in its use of sources. Many are cited out of context, they are often listed without explanation or analysis, and generalizations are made on the basis of undisclosed and apparently meager evidence. But Carey's effort to speak in the nameof sisters whose views may have been ignored in the process of renewal provides a significant resource for those who are willing to look and listen. What has been said here about renewal within women's com-munities is true of the renewal of the whole church; in many ways it holds true as well for liberation movements within North America and across the planet. It is often asserted that communi-ties of men and women are called to take a prophetic stance. In my view, such an assertion requires careful nuancing. But, if sisters who represent different perspectives can learn to engage in gen-uine dialogue about their recent history and possible future direc-tions, I believe that could be prophetic indeed, not only for the church, but for all of humanity. Notes i Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, °1997). 2 The focus of my work is women's communities, and the sources for the present reflection deal specifically with women in the United States. Other groups, too, may find what I say relevant. 3 These are not my preferred terms, but since Carey uses them I will follow her lead. 4 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Tranyformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). s "Book rebukes renewal; nuns rebuke book," National Catholic Reporter, 23 May 1997, p. 6. 6 Former LCWR president Doris Gottemoeller RSM agrees, but she believes that Carey has not named the crisis adequately. See "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins, 25 February 1999, pp. 634-638. ~uly-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis 7 One modern source for the story is Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton, Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement without Giving In, 2nd ed. (New York: Penguin Books, 1991), p. 40. Walter Wink suggests that finding a third alternative in a situation that has reached an impasse is a gospel imperative. See his Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). s Fowler suggests that the pattern of stages he describes remains valid regardless of the content of one's faith. It is rather a factor of one's cognitive and moral development,.although the circumstances in which one finds oneself tend to propel one toward a new stage. His theory is quite pragmatic: no stage is better than another; it simply may be more adequate to the realities one has to confront. 9 Note that one of these elements can be present without the other. Persons with an analytical bent can ana!yze the content of a faith that is not personally appropriated. Similarly, persons who tend to be inde-pendent may formally reject the faith of significant others before being able to give a reason for their own belief, other than the fact that it is their own. 10 This is not to say that more traditional communities have not made the same transition. I simply do not have enough evidence to make such a judgment. II She maintains that, when their constitutions were not approved, "many institutes simply played the game of prolonged 'dialogue' with Rome, hoping to win approval for practices that already had been in effect for years" (Crisis, 314). 12 Justice in the World, §6. 13 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era," Review for Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 26. ~4 I am indebted to Edward Vacek SJ in "Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God," Review for Religious 57, no. 2 (March-April 1998): 118-137, for his description of the vows as'structuring one's life around the relationship to God. ~s Barbara Fiand SND has articulated a theology of the vows in keep-ing with an e~;olutionary, nondualistic worldview. See her Living the I~uion: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 16 See Crisis, pp. 110-111. 17 HWR News and Notes, published by the Conference on History of Women Religious (ed. Karen M. Kennelly csJ; Mount St. Mary's College; 12001 Chalon Road; Los Angeles, California 90049), tracks current scholarship in this area, much of which is presented at that orga-nization's triennial conferences. Both the enormous variety of expressions and the common themes Review for Religious manifest in that variety are very evident in Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). ,9 See ~ta consecrata, Origins 25, no. 41 (4 April 1996); also in The Church and Consecrated Life (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1996), pp. 323-436; see esp. §§12 and 62. The latter section is explicit about the pos-sibility that new forms emerging today may come to be approved offi-cially at a later time. 20 For example, Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis" (see note 6), p. 635. At the LCWR assembly in August 1999, there were a number of calls for evaluation of the processes of renewal. Musings of the Prodigal's Brother Look at him! The life of the party. Music, fatted calf, ring- all to celebrate my brother's return from a wasted life. Squandered inheritance, prostitutes, and hunger shared with swine. Look at my lathe!! Joy-filled, radiant, his long-awaited prodigal is home. Unconditional, all-forgiving love Lighting up the room with warmth and joy, my father - our father - now at peace. Look at me! Lonely, jealous, bitter. The son who did not squander - but gave my father only loyal, total service, What's this? My envy giving way? My inner blindness praying, "Lord, that I may see"? Maria Corona Crumback IHM ffuly-August 2000 BERNADINE PIEPER A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence T~ay, thirty-five years after Vatican Council II, many people nk that the changes in religious life arose spontaneously, somewhat like Athena springing from the forehead of Zeus. In fact, the changes took place because of intense preparation. That preparation happened in the contexts of the general culture and the individual religious communities. My community, the Congregation of the Humility of Mary, was a small congregation of approximately 430 members, and so most sisters knew one another. The sisters came from a variety of ancestral ndtionalities: Irish, German, Czech, Italian, Mexican, and others. Many of the sisters had rural backgrounds, had the experience of living with Protestants as well as Catholics, and had attended both public and Catholic schools at all levels including university. The congregation had moved from France to Pennsylvania to Missouri to Iowa and had experienced losing the motherhouse in Ottumwa, Iowa, in a 1957 fire. They were pio-neers, risk takers. Further, a remarkable group of women made up the leadership of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary from 1960 to 1966. In November 1964 the general superior, Mother Mary Nicholas, and the general council called for a congregation-wide Bernadine Pieper CHM was elected general superior of her congre-gation in 1966, shortly after Vatican Council ii. She writes from her experience of the past forty years. Her address is Humility of Mary Center; 820 West Central Park Avenue; Davenport, Iowa 52804. Review for Religious vote on a revision of the delegate selection process for the 1966 general chapter of affairs. That same month she and the council ¯ asked every convent to discuss renewal of religious life with spe-cial applications to our congregation. Background material sent for the study included Vatican II's Constitution on the Liturgy, chapters 5 and 6 of the Constitution on the Church, Pope Paul's discourse of 23 May 1964 to all religious, the original 1858 rules and regulations of the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and Father Bernard H~iring's Christian Renewal in a Changing World. The sis-ters were also asked to study related sections of Scrip~re. The virtues listed in our original constitutions were to be studied along with the congregation's apostolate. The sisters were asked whether " we were meeting the spiritual and religious needs of the people of our time in the localities where we were working. This was a time of excitement and ferment. Discussion of these topics provided an opportunity for departure from the rather superficial conversation typical of specified recreation times. A 22 February 1965 letter from Mother Mary Nicholas states that the objective of our study was profound renewal inspired.by bib-lical, liturgical, and apostolic documents of Vatican II and by wis-dom from the congregation's experience. She said some changes would be decided by the congregation itself while others must await legislation expected in the future. "We realize that renewal of religious life will not be easy," she said. From each of four geo-graphical areas (east Iowa and Illinois, midwest Iowa, southeast Iowa, and the west), she and the general council appointed the following committees: liturgy, common life and discipline, poverty, obedience, works and apostolate, and formation and maturity. Committee members included every sister in the community. After a year of discussion, each of these committees sent a posi-tion paper, including reports and recommendations, for study by the congregation. From October 1965 to May 1966, sisters prepared proposals to present to the 1966 chapter of affairs. A total of 545 proposals on a variety of topics were prepared by the sisters, both by indi-viduals and by committees and groups. The recommendations included practically every facet of the sisters' lives and customs: elections, prayer, charity, social work, spiritual renewal, revision of rule and directory, companionship, cloister, letter writing, use of gifts, permissions, and other more mundane items such as swim-ming, ceremonies, appointments, and speeds at which to drive. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ ~t Path of Humility and Truth There were few proposals about chastity and friendship, pos-sibly due to the fact that no study group was assigned to this topic. During the previous fifty years, obedience had assumed priority for religious life. Three sisters were appointed to organize the pro-posals for presentation to th6 chapter of affairs in a logical way. After attending a workshop for religious superiors at the University of Notre Dame, the local superiors of the congregation met in the summer of 1965 to look at common life. They recom-mended a variety of changes to Mother Superior and the council. Among the changes approved were: talking at breakfast, walking outdoors after 6 p.m., eating with guests, retiring early, noncen-sorship of mail, elimination of the chapter of faults, yearly general permissions, and going without a companion to medical appoint-ments. Previously three other sisters were involved when one went to the doctor: one as her companion at the doctor's and two oth-ers to drive them there and pick them up again. In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. A workshop on guidelines for renewal was held in spring 1966 with the cooperation of the Canon Law Society of America and the approval Of Davenport Bishop Ralph L. Hayes. The speakers were Father Paul M. Boyle CP, past president of the Canon Law Society of America; Father Kevin O'Rourke OP, coauthor of Canon Law for Religious Women; Sister Jane Marie Richardson SL, secretary of Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL, auditor at Vatican II; Sister Ignace RSM, province councilor of the Mercy Sisters' Chicago Province; and Sister Maristella (Elizabeth) Picken CHM, member of the Marycrest College religion department. Davenport sisters had also traveled to Aurora, Illinois, that spring for a speech by Sister Mary Luke Tobin. The membership for the 1966 chapter of affairs was entirely different from that of earlier chapters, which had been composed of almost as many superiors as nonsuperiors. Besides the seven ex-officio members--major .superior, council, former major superi-ors, secretary, and treasurer--seven superiors were elected from among 38, nine sisters from among 88 more than 50 years old, ten sisters from among 90 between 35 and 50 years of age, and four from among the 80 sisters under 35. All these sisters had per-petual vows. Sisters with temporary vows had only active voice. During the chapter the delegates voted to abolish all secrecy. Chapter delegates represented a wide variety of sisters. There was for Rdigious a wide spectrum of emotion--fear and impatience on the one hand, hope and excitement on the other. Everyone, however, cared for the congregation and worked hard to follow the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Relaxation of discipline and introduction of the breviary were not the only changes which took place before the 1966 chapter of affairs. The number of entrants into the congregation had already declined before 1966. The largest number of persons to enter the congregation came in 1959 and 1960:27 and 32 respec-tively. In 1965 only six women entered, and in the spring of 1966 only four had been accepted for entrance. Sisters were aware of and inter-ested in civil rights. Though no one went to Selma or other places in the South for demonstrations, they were deeply concerned and prayed particularly when Medgar Evers was killed. They also began to help with local problems. For example, some numbers went sandbagging along the Mississippi in Davenport during the 1965 flood. They tried to do this quietly; when a picture of the sisters appeared in the daily paper, not everyone in the CHM community was happy. Probably attitudinal changes were the most important. In the 1960s the culture implied that one was incomplete without a sex-ual partner. Vatican II taught that perfection was obtainable not just by sisters in community, but also by married persons. At Marycrest College, where over one-fourth of the CHM community studied during the summer, creative and critical thinking was a college goal. Sisters began to recognize that they were thinking creatively .and critically about everything exc.ept their own lives. They became aware that they had been founded as an apostolic community and were neither cloistered nor monastic, but had been trying to live as if they were. At the chapter of affairs, on 27 June 1966, I was elected the general superior. My experience as a superior was limited to sev-eral summers for the sisters who were students at Marycrest College. I had, however, taught a majority of members of the con-gregation. This was my first chapter of affairs. M6ther Mary In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth Nicholas Sheetz, who might have provided me some guidance, died in October 1966. Mother Mary Magdalen Wilmes, another potential source of information, asked to move to Phoenix. "You can make your own mistakes," she said. I retained the designation "Sister" and took the title president instead of mother superior, as have those who succeeded me. When Father Paul Boyle CP spoke at Marycrest College in April 1966, he assured the members of the committee which orga-nized the proposals that he would be happy to help at the chapter. He came to Ottumwa from Monroe, Michigan, and was invaluable in distinguishing among aspects of church law, community law, customs, and culture. He advised us tobegin with a discussion on prayer because that was the most important topic and further-more was likely to be less controversial than the others. After considerable discussion and revision at the regular June session and a short one in December 1966, about sixty motions were approved by the delegates, either unanimously or at least 10 to 1 in favor. Mass, lauds, vespers, and an annual retreat were the only requirements regarding prayer. However, the value of prayer was endorsed, and continuing past practices was recommended. In the area of poverty, the sisters were asked to be as poor as they wished and to provide community witness to poverty by sharing things. Minor finances were to be a subject for experimentation. Each sister was to be given $15 a month for clothes and personal needs, while housing, .meals, and travel were to be provided by the local house. One sister commented that her girdle alone cost $13. Investigating congregational health insurance was approved. Home visits, travel without companions, retention of baptismal names for those who so wished, eating with persons other than commu-nity members, and letters and phone calls without censorship were approved. Broadening our apostolic works was recommended, with particular emphasis on Latin America. The value of long-range planning was noted. The following commissions were described and set up in great detaili (1) the coordinating commission on apostolic works, with subcommittees in the various areas of work; (2) rule and directory revision; (3) formation and religious renewal; (4) finance and development; and (5) habit revision. The sisters were asked to participate in annual meetings of the whole con-gregation. No time limit for experimenting was set because Pe, rfectae caritatis allowed twelve years. Review for Religious In the letter I wrote to the congregation accompanying the record of the June 1966 chapter, I said: "Many of you have prob-ably read Michael Novak's 'The New Nun' in the July Post, in which he says, 'Press reports emphasize the shortened skirts, the briefer veils, the appearance of nuns on public beaches, but these are misleading superficial aspects of a deep-running revolution. In ever increasing numbers the sisters are creating new rules to define what tasks they may or may not tackle, what styles of life they may or may not adopt.'" Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. The original intent was to design and adopt a simple costume with a modified veil. The process, however, led to diversity. Sisters sent requests to the coordinating commission on habit revision, with the final decision to be made by the general superior and council. At first the sisters were expected to wear a veil and white, gray, black, brown, or blue clothing. Many sisters quickly adapted to the change, Next came . requests and permission to wear red and green and finally flowered blouses. Just before the 1967 summer school, the gen-eral council decided to allow sisters to go without veils, having noticed that sisters in some communities who were still asked to wear the traditional habit were surreptitiously wearing street clothes when they were ¯ away from the convent. We felt that honesty was the better policy. At first clothes were usually made out of habits and cloaks and often were ill fitting and not very well designed. Generally sisters wore blouses, skirts, and suits. Some sisters reverted to the hairstyles of their teen years; some bought wigs. Fairly soon, though, the sisters emerged as attractive women rather than neuter icons, and sometimes this incited the envy of other women. For example, one sister found a suitable coat with a small fur collar in the poor box for the parish. She was criti-cized by some parishioners as being too extravagant in clothes. The change to contemporary clothes, the sisters thought, necessitated some means for identification. For a while each sis-ter had a name tag; then we adopted a design for a medal. It is still being used. Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. July-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth This was a time of energetic hope and gloomy predictions as well. One priest "expert" predicted that within five years the con-gregation would be extinct. Before 1966 the vow of poverty implied permission for the use of material things. After the 1966 chapter, the meaning of being po.or as one wished and sharing material things was open to interpretation. General congregational'needs included care of retired sisters, administration, and the retirement of a debt on the motherhouse. Up to this time, each house had sent as much as possible to the motherhouse. In fact, sometimes superiors vied with one other to see how much could be sent, even at the expense of local needs. As sisters began to live outside established con-vents, the question arose about ensuring a balance of individual and congregational needs. Since CHM local houses had sent to the congregational fund the amount each determined, it seemed logical to continue this process. Hence, each sister was asked to deduct from her income what was needed for her individual or house costs and send the rest to the motherhouse. Little by little most of the sisters began to contribute as much as they could to the congregation's fund. Diocesan stipends were entirely too low. In the Des Moines Diocese the stipend set for each sister was $50-$100 monthly. In the city of Des Moines, all except one parish paid $50 per month per sister. I had to go to bishops and pastors to ask for an increase in the stipend. Frequently I was told that, if the sisters went back to their habits, they could get along on $50 a month! I prepared and distributed a budget so that the sisters could be informed about real congregational needs. Funds for retreats and education were budgeted. A study was made of average expenses for an indi-vidual. Many sisters responded favorably when they were informed about the needs, both for the congregation itself and for works to assist the poor. To free active sisters from increasing costs for sisters already in retirement, we enrolled in the social security program in 1972 when it became available for sisters. Using unclaimed interest on patrimony, we set up the CHM retirement trust in 1976. Until the summer of 1966, health expenses were cared for gratis by several related hospitals. One of these began charging the sisters for services. Then we initiated a health-insurance plan. Each sister in the congregation was asked to have an annual phys-ical examination. Revie~ for Religio~ The commission on rule revision met almost immediately after the 1966 chapter. Unable to decide what to call the first product of their efforts, it settled on "Spirit and Goals" until a better name could be found. After considerable discussion a state-ment of about a page and a half was sent to all the sisters for study and recommendation. After several revisions, a statement of spirit and goals was approved by a vote of the sisters in August 1968. The statement began, "We Sisters of the Humility of Mary are a group of women in the Catholic Church who have banded together to dedicate ourselves through a special common effort to the pur-suit of life's essential meaning and to a radical response to the Christian gospel of universal love." The Spirit and Goals document was intended as a basic state-ment explaining our spirit and the meaning of religious life for the Sisters of the Humility of Mary. The remainder of the rule was intended to be directives approved by succeeding chapters of affairs. After some years, and after the rules and regulations had been arranged according to topics and divided into Books I and II, the CHM president and I presented the document to the English-speaking committee of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (SCRIS) in Rome in 1982. The committee, finding several sections unacceptable, told us to make mandated changes and resubmit the document. Since the total congregation had already approved the 1982 document, it was necessary that they subsequently vote on SCRIS's mandates. This CHM approval was not forthcoming, so for seven years the congregation followed Books I and II without papal approval. In 1988 a new rule-revision committee attempted to integrate the directives of SCRIS, now called the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) in such a way that our identity would not be compromised. We con-sulted a canon lawyer working in the English-language depart-ment of CICLSAL. Her suggestions included moving as many items as possible to Book II, which did not require canonical approval. The main objection of CICLSAL had been our election process. After numerous revisions we were able to present the document to the CHM general assembly in the summer of 1990. It was approved by the Representative Assembly in that year and sent to Rome requesting the approval date of December 8. We distributed approved copies to the congregation in the summer of 1991. We are still probing self-determination versus community focus. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. By 1968 we were sending openings for available positions to community members. That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. Some felt insecure in having to find their own positions. Sisters who were not good teachers or who had no interest in teaching were able to go to school and train for and find occupations more in keeping with their talents. Justice was adopted as the congregation's priority. More sisters began working directly with the dispossessed, and the congregation supported their efforts. After the recommendation of Pope Paul VI encouraging American religious to go to Latin America, Father Louis Colonnese, director of PAVLA (Papal Volunteers for Latin America), rec-ommended about half a dozen places to the sis-ters. All of these were dioceses where the bishop had a pastoral plan to follow the spirit of Vatican II. Several of us went to visit Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia of the San Crist6bal de las Casas diocese in southern Mexico. He took us over mountains to see places where sisters had been working to show us what had been done and what the pos-sibilities were. We were so impressed that we decided not to look further, but rather to use for the program in Chiapas the money we might have spent on airplane fare to other potential sites. We were urged to send sisters also to Ambato, Ecuador. Four si~ters went to these two missions; two are still in the San Crist6bal diocese. Although the commission on formation devised an extensive plan for formation, very few women applied. Furthermore, a :great many, particularly among those who were in temporary vows, left the congregation. Perhaps they were still in the process of being integrated in the congregation in a pre-Vatican II mode. Of the many reasons for the mass exodus from religious communities, I think a good many were cultural. Quite a few young women said that, if they could be as holy living as married women with chil-dren as they could as celibates in community, there was no reason to remain as sisters. The sexual revolution implied that one could not be a whole person without genital experiences. Some sisters, particularly those working directly with the poor, found that their primary community was one, other than the ClaMs. Some who left were those who had been dissatisfied for years. On the other hand, Review for Religious some were sisters who had worked most diligently and effectively for the changes. Some were unable to identify with a patriarchal church. Without a doubt all of us made mistakes. It might have been better to have informed our public about proposed changes, but we were intent on our internal study. In any case, I doubt if the pub-lic would have approved of the changes if we had asked them beforehand. The Sisters of the Humility of Mary moved some-what faster than other communities at this time of. change. As I watched communities that made the changes later, I used to think that I could be a consultant, telling them what to avoid. However, all of us had to learn from our own mistakes even though many of them were similar. Not everyone was mature enough to take per-sonal responsibility. The changes in discipline, clothes, works, and so on were only the expressions of a hope for the inner renewal of each sister and of the entire congregation. Celibacy in community has replaced obedience as the defining vow for sisters. Since the early 1970s, associates have expanded the search and service aspects of com-munity. Among the sisters, responsibility for private prayer some-times meant temporary abandonment of prayer altogether. Inner renewal is difficult to assess and is known only to God and the sister. Bishops witl~ whom CHMs worked were supportive during this time. One said that he did not understand everything that we did, but trusted us. On one occasion he commented, "I would never presume to tell a woman what to wear." Today we are an older and wiser congregation. The renewal set in motion in the 1960s has, I think, resulted in return to the spirit of our founders and a steady love for God, people, and the universe. Father Richard Hill 'SJ died on 29 January 2000 in the Jesuit infirfna~ at,Los' Gatos,~ Cahfornia: " 'Fathei" ~li ~sed~tor for c~nonical ~ounsel from Janua~ 1985 to July.19~)0. ~ : Let us remember him in burp~ay~ers~ July-August 2000 w. HENRY KEN-NEY Finding God's Willm A Maneuver finding God My title, "Finding God's Will," purposely suggests a prior search. In an age when some prefer to think of God as havin~ no specific will for individuals, but only a general wish for us to use our freedom well, the whole concept of seeking and finding God's will seems out of place. But I do not think it is. The theological assumptions behind searching for and finding God's will are, I believe, not of this age. They have appeared in the spirituality of countless saints, and espe-cially in those who lived in the last four or five hundred years. My large debt to an acknowledged master of search-ing for and finding God's will, St. Ignatius of Loyola, I gladly own. I am also quite indebted to dozens of pray-ers (my preferred term for directees) whom I have accom-panied on many a search and in many a finding. So my basic assumption is: God has a specific will which can be searched for and found--in large, medium, and lesser matters. A very good case, I believe, can be made that this is the prevailing assumption of the Bible and that it shines forth especially in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, along with many scripture scholars, I see Jesus' desert temptations as part W. Henry Kenney SJ, founder of the Bluegrass Spirituality Center in Lexington, Kentucky, is now a free-lance "prayer coach." His address is 153 Barr Street; Lexington, Kentucky 40507. Review for Religious of his search for the Father's will on how to undertake and exer-cise his public ministry. Near the end of his life, we see Jesus in Gethsemane struggling to get beyond his aversion to an igno-minious death ~and coming finally to embrace his Father's will peacefully and courageously. Presuppositions for Fruitful Searching My first presupposition is that searching for and finding God's will is a gift, and God's best gifts most often come in answer to persistent prayer. Hence, the guiding light for a searcher is: Beg, beg, beg. That repeats in short compass the longest teaching of Jesus on prayer: keep on knocking, seeking, begging for God to reveal their (Father, Son, and Spirit) will (Lk 11:1-13). For those who are settled into a significant prayer life, recipients of one of its gifts--a strong desire to know God's will--persistent begging for the revelation of God's will strikes them as quite right. To be given the knowledge of God's will and the courage and joy to do it is perceived by such pray-ers as a most precious gift coming from God's Spirit, the gift. Happy are they who experience their begging turned into receiving--the knowledge and love of God's s, pecific will for them. The second presupposition is that the principal impediment to finding God's will is my own will, often enough so attached to X or so averted from Y that it is very difficult or nearly impossi-ble for Y to be revealed as God's will. Spirituality writers used to call that state "attachment" or "lack of indifference." Currently that state is described as insufficient openness to God's will or lack of spiritual freedom. If I am mildly or strongly attached to getting married or averse to becoming a priest or religious, it is more difficult for me to recognize that God's wisdom and plea-sure are calling me to the priesthood or religious life. When there is very strong aversion or attachment, it is nearly impossi-ble to know and accept God's willing the opposite of our own wills. Let us state this positively. A necessary condition for our finding God's will is our possession of indifference, detachment, real openness to God's will--spiritual freedom. St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises (§157) supplies a soul-testing remedy for such "inordinate attachments": When we feel an attachment opposed to X [Ignatius instances actual poverty] . it will be very helpful in order ~ly-.4ug~st 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will to overcome the inordinate attachment, even though cor-rupt na(ure rebel against it, to beg our Lord. to choose us to serve him in X. We should insist that we desire it, we should beg for it, plead for it, provided, of course, that it be for the service and praise of the Divine Goodness. (Puhl translation) With some discomfort I own that I have seldom suggested that a praying person follow §157's recommendation. However, from directing pray-ers (and from my own seeking of God's will) I have happened on to a maneuver that achieves, almost by indirection, what §157 seeks straight on. The third (and, for some, shocking) presupposition is this: God's will is usually revealed not by words or images, but by feel-ings: feelings of peace, of increased or continuing peace (called consolation), or feelings of diminished peace, of distancing (called desolation). Novice pray-ers have usually not had enough prayer and life experience of consolation and desolation for those feel-ings to be without the assistance of a spiritual guide--true instru-ments for revealing God's will to themselves. Conditions for Finding and Choosing God's Will Here are four necessary conditions for finding God's will: The first is spiritual freedom or openness. Being reasonably "at balance" is necessary for being really open to God's alternatives. How cru-cial this is can be seen in Ignatius's Exercises, in the extensive instructions and reflections given to help a praying person come to a reasonable level of spiritual freedom. The second is homework. Suffic-ient investigation of the par-ticulars of the available options (who, what, where, when, for how long, at what cost, and so forth) is absolutely necessary. Some per-sonality types want to rush into choosing before they have done their homework, or done it well enough. Pray-ers will often have discerned, in the first place, whether to commit themselves to an in-depth investigation of the alternatives, that is, the pros and cons of each. The third is kairos. There is a kairos, an appropriate time, for the discerning process. Some times are inappropriate, for example, wanting to know if I should accept a job offer before I am offered the job. That is clearly quite different from discerning on whether I should commit myself to investigate some job possibilities or to Review for Religious make some applications. Further, for those given .to control, there is often the temptation to discern alternatives--to have closure-- long before there is reasonable need for a decision. A help in the searching process is to fix the actual date wl~en a decision is needed. Then the discerner can assign a reasonable number of days for discernment before the due date. The fourth is a discernment companion. If a pray-er is leaning to one alternative and strongly dislikes the other, the aid of a dis-cernment companion is usually essential. The companion can help the praying persons to follow the process correcdy and thereby get beyond their subjectivity. Novice discerners with strong attach-ments are astonishingly adept at fouling up the discernment pro-cess. A person who read this article in manuscript form was dumbfounded to find in it a finger pointing out an inclination to subvert true discernment of a touchy personal decision. Even mature pray-ers, at least in their earlier searchings for God's will, usually have need of human help to discern and interpret patterns of consolation or desolation in response to their continued search-ing for the Lord's will. There would, then, be great risk if non-pray- ers or novice pray-ers attempted such formal discernment without a discernment companion, and even greater risk in the maneuver suggested below. The~, would too likely get into magic, divination, or self-deception. A ManeuvermOne Way of Searching for God's Will Central to the maneuver is repeatedly asking a loaded question of the Lord in the middle of prayer. I call it "popping the ques-tion." Unfortunately, there are several gloriously wrgng ways of popping the question. First is popping an unloaded question, such as, "Lord, do you want me to marry Susie?" That sounds quite sensible. What is so unproductive about this Way of phrasing the question is that it demands a vocal answer: "Yes" or "No." The Lord, however, is not in the habit of giving such answers. Not a few pray-ers continue to be scandalized that the Lord's preferred way of communicating "answers" to us is through our emotions, through consolations and desolations. A second wrong way of popping the question is to pop a ques-tion that is loaded towards the alternative the pray-er wants. This, unsurprisingly, greatly muddies the spiritual waters; self-gener-ated "peace" tends to obscure any subtle message from God. If I j~ly-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will greatly desire quitting my job and I keep asking, ".Lord, you want me to quit my job, don't you?" my strong emotional bias will give me so much'comfort that a contrary response from the Lord will likely be blocked out. Third, pray-ers will often fudge the process by alternately popping questions loaded against and loaded for themselves. Once again, muddied waters will result. A right way to phrase discernment questions is to use a loaded question consistently, a question loaded against my inclination or aversion and thereby loaded in God's favor. For a young or not-so-young woman attached to her single lifestyle, the loaded phras-ing of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" will cause disturbance, negative feelings, the first several times she pops it. These initial affective responses will likely prove untypical of responses later on, but she needs to experience them now. I say this because I have quite often seen sincere discerners surrepti-tiously (without knowing it themselves!) try to bypass such dis-comfort and get approval of the alternative they want either by asking an unloaded question or by unconsciously switching to the loaded question that favors their own present inclination: "Lord, you don't want me to marry Stan, do you?" Pray-ers that "lean" toward a preference of theirs need to be assured more than once that it is just as easy for the Lord to "answer" no to a loaded question as to answeryes. Understandably, many "leaning" pray-ersfeel that the question is too loaded against themselves for the Lord to be able to say no. In phi'asing discern-ment questions, it has gradually and experientially ~ome clear to me that it is much better to formulate the questions positively. For example, if a pray-er pops "Lord, you don't want me accept this job offer, do you?" the negative tends to muddy the process. The right-ness of the positively phrased question, "Lord, you want me to con-tinue in my present job, don't you?" can be sensed by pray-ers who lean toward accepting a new job. They experience more dis-comfort with positive questions than with negative ones. When to pop? I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful, that is, when I am at peace and have some sense of being with the Lord. Never do I ask when I am even a little unpeaceful or lack some real sense of being with the Lord. Praying persons, indeed, are frequently tempted to do this. If they yield, it is like asking the wall and expecting a revela-tory response within themselves as a reaction to the wall's action! Review for Religious When one is consciously with the Lord, whether in formal prayer or at'liturgy or at another time, a question should usually be popped only once. Popping the same question several times in the same ,prayer experience usually comes from a control drive that tends to commandeer the discernment process. How to pop? When I am in the middle of being connected with the Lord, I pop the question, as it were, eyeball to eyeball. Then I wait a short time, seconds. If I wait longer, I am trying to manipulate the Lord or influence my reactions. After popping I need to notice what happened to my con-nectedness and consolation. Did it remain the same? Did it increase? Was it subtly modified? Often pray-ers say "Nothing happened" after they popped the question. My response is "Something always hap-pens!" If my connectedness and peace remain the same, that is a very revealing, though low-key, response. Hence we need to keep a record of our post-popping reactions so that we may discover a pattern. How often to pop? For a small matter, once usually suffices if there has been a clear enough affective response. For larger mat-ters-- a new job, undertaking a volunteer project or pulling back from one--five, ten, or a dozen times usually give a clear picture. Very large questions--marriage, religiou~ life, another child, major change in employment or lifestyle--may need months of discern-ing. What is always being sought is a clear pattern of responses from multiple poppings. Confirmation. When repeated poppings have yielded a pat-tern that tells us we very probably know God's will in a large or very large matter, it is good to supplement the discernment with a further process that may increase and strengthen our careful cer-tainty. Regarding marriage, the confirming question (in full detail, useful for the first popping) could well be "Lord, I think you have revealed to me that you want me to marry Stan. That is your will, isn't it?" Interpreting patterns. If pray-ers' first discernment efforts involve large or very large issues, I usually say nothing beforehand about htw to interpret their experience. Rather, I tell them they should pop the question "about X times," note carefully what hap- I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful. July-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will pens to their state of peace while and after popping, and record the experience of each discernment. At our next meeting we look at and interpret the responses together. The interpretation is very simple: The experience of consola-tion confirms the loaded question, whereas a lesser peacefulness or a diminished sense of being with the Lord negates the loaded ques-tion. In the example "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" the results of the maneuver may be "muddied" by several years of attachment to a single lifestyle. The first few poppings will probably bring feelings of desolation, coming from pain at the thought of possibly losing certain blessings of the single life. But it is the pattern'of consolations or desolations, derived from many spiritual experiences, that reveals whether the alternative is in harmony or not with God's wisdom and love, and with what is deepest in herself as well. It is worth adding that in using the maneuver people may often experience desolation in new ways. They may sense a sud-den loss of contact with the Lord--no more disturbing than the quiet loss of a telephone connection during a conversation. Or they may sense the onset of a "vacuum" feeling, a severe feeling of emptiness, immediately after popping the question. Such feel-ings are often quite subtle, but are clear instances of desolation nonetheless. Sundry Choices Made by Means of the Maneuver Somehow it seems more appropriate to place this section at the end rather than near the beginning. My hope is that it will give some feel for the variety of discernments. I give some instances of choices that go ~ith the chooser's natural preference as well as againstdt. Understandably, I fictionalize to protect confidential-ity, but give enough details to suggest a "feel" for the shape of dis-cerned choices. First, four examples of big choices: a woman in her thirties who had enjoyed an active lifestyle met a man whom she feared God might want her tO marry and thus have her lifestyle signifi-cantly altered. Hers was a long discernment, spread over a num-ber of months, and she gradually became more open to marriage, especially through the use of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" Postwedding life has proved the fittingness of her def-initely not easy choice. There is a greatly loved child, and she Review for Religious found herself saying, "It's clear to me that I'm growing up now." A man in his early forties, increasingly uncomfortable with his military-connected job, sought first to know if God wanted him to give up his job and seek training and employment in some-thing more oriented towards human service. It was difficult to consider giving up a well-paying job without knowing what the next, step would be. His discernment was eased by his having a substantial amount of savings. In his case the discernment of per-haps five or six months gave him the certainty (and courage) to quit his job. This led to discernment about further education and eventually to a people-centered ministry. A young woman, thirty-two, who came with a strong prayer life and dedication to helping the poor, was not charmed when I asked if she had thought about religious life. "I want to get married and have children." "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. In some-thing like a month of using the loaded ques-tion "Lord, you want me to be a religious, don't you?" she came to much more spiritual freedom for either marriage or religious life. She found herself eager to know God's will clearly, whatever it might be. That desire was fulfilled in another month and a half by a definite vocation to a missionary order. A woman in her forties taught'alternativ~ high school (possi-bly a universal euphemism for teaching students less than sixteen and expelled from regular schools). She heard of the possibility of becoming chief financial officer for a large God's Pantry opera-tion; she was both very qualified and very attracted. When, how-ever, she frequently asking loaded questions about whether God wanted her to continue in her present job, she came up with no clear sense of direction. Then, almost immediately after she was actually offered the CFO job, her prayer was filled with clarity that God wanted her to continue teaching "alternatives"--the very drift of her original popped question. Next are two examples of "medium" choices, but I flinch at such labeling because often the consequences are major. Probably the saddest accompanying I have done was with a man in his for-ties who was in a cult-like abusive relationship. In a discernment "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. .~uly-Aug~st 2000 Kenn~y ¯ Findin~ God's W~ll which was long enough and clear enough, the answer was yes to "You want me to give up my relationship with X, don't you?" The sadness is that the relationship continued with great harm to him-self and to his family. Though I tried to persuade him to get coun-seling, the abuser convinced him that that counselors do the work of the devil. A man in his early fifties is a first-rate high school teacher. He got the idea that it would be good to get a Ph.D., but dis-cernment dictated otherwise. He continued happily and effectively teaching for several years. Because he is very gifted, he was asked to do all sorts of things at school, at church, and elsewhere. Before using formal discernment he was seriously fatiguing himself by undertaking too many projects. He began using a discernment notebook. When asked to do something, he noted it, carefully constructed a question for popping, used it in prayer,and logged the '~results." He says. no a lot more now, and notes the absence of fatigue. Out of the blue a department chair at the university asked him to supervise graduate students doing their summertime practice teaching. Not only did his discernment yield a clear "No," but also an unusual pair of words, "You're enough"--exactly what he needed to hear. He has no need for other and ever new achieve-meats to prove and feel his self-worth. Other Ways of Discernment The maneuver suggested here is one good way of seeking and finding God's will. There are many other ways. Experimentation vs. popping. In several areas of our lives where the prayer discernment process proposed here is not appro-priate, experimentation is a privileged way of finding God's will. It can be used for how long to pray, where and when to pray, what type of prayer is best for one's "daily diet," how much sleep, exer-cise, food, and drink to get, and so forth. Experimentation is not trying X one day, Y another, and Z on the third. Rather, it is try-ing one way five to seven times, then trying another way five to seven times, and afterwards reflecting on our experiences, espe-cially on the quality of our lives during the alternative experi-ments. St. Ignatius Loyola observes: "Now since God our Lord knows our [individual] nature infinitely better [than we do], when we make changes of this kind, [God] often grants each one the grace to understand what is suitable for [us]" (SpEx §89). Review for Religious There is another way that God answers sincere prayer--and, here, prayer to know God's will. My sister, her husband afflicted with Alzheimer's, knew they had to move into some form of assisted living because her heart condition was making her ever less able to care for him. She was more inclined to get care eight hours per day rather than 24-hour care--too pricey, she thought. Her earnest prayer that God reveal Their will was strikingly answered. The next two nights her husband had diarrhea and did not know what the toilet was for. Clearly, day care would not suffice. Another way of discernment is, I think, proposed by St. Ignatius, but unfortunately I cannot document this. This way involves offering the Lord different options as one would present different dishes to an honored guest, waiting to see which' he prefers. I mention, too, the experience of a Baptist minister who, faced with significant choices, would open his Bible to random passages and find in them helpful suggestions towards a particular course of action. He would say, "The Scripture came and grasped me." Summing Up First, the maneuver suggested here for finding God's will in larger and medium discernments centers on popping loaded ques-tions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. By examining the patterns, the pray-er comes to suf-ficient certainty (especially if there is a confirmation process) that God's will has been found. This maneuver has been instrumental for scores of pray-ers in finding the peace of certainty about God's will for themselves even, sometimes, in small matters. The out-comes of decisions arrived at in this manner have been uniformly good (with one exception), and pray-ers have continued secure in their discernments, free from attacks by second thoughts. For persons who approached a decision leaning somewhat or strongly to one alternative, an unplanned and unexpected result of using the maneuver is that repeated poppings of a question loaded against their inclinations brought them--gradually, but more rapidly than I had dared hope--to equanimity about, or even real openness, to the unwanted alternative. With only one excep-tion, those who were led to "tough love" decisions were able to embrace them peacefully and live them energetically. Those who were led by the right use of the maneuver to embrace alternatives July-August 2000 L3-77-- Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will in accord with their initial preferences enioyed the special conso-lation, of knowing they had sought and found not merely their own will, but also God's. Magnificat I want to thank with all my heart the unknown man who, this summer, hacked back and burned the briars and unruly gorse which had covered that singing stream between Boolagh Bog and Bockagh Hill. And I will, because now eye can feast on the smooth black tables of rock down which clear brown water tumbles and bubbles and makes white foam. Ear had always heard the choir under the gorse-and-briar canopy. Body had always sat or stood there, soothed by sound. Now eye and ear heart and bone and soul and tumbling stream are humming their Magn~'cat in unison. Bernadette McCarrick RSM Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Mnuch of our United States consumer-society mentality vades our quest for spiritual growth. We snatch up the latest acclaimed spiritual authors. We dash off to the latest popu-lar workshops. We try to take in more and more. The effort is laudable, for there is this hunger within us to know more about God's plan for us and to draw nearer to Jesus. All the restless searching, however, ignores the treasure that lies right at our feet. We look everywhere, but we do not see it. As Meister Eckhart wisely put it, "all people have a vintage wine cellar, but they sel-dom drink from it." What I propose here is a stop to all this chas-ing about and an invitation to look into ourselves at the inner wisdom that is already ours. We have access to it. Where the Treasure Lies Have you .ever noticed how easily we slip into states of total absorption, into trancelike states? I imply nothing "spooky" here. This is simply the way our minds work on certain tasks. In that state of absorption, of inner searching, we step out of time, away from the settings around us. We become so focused on a single idea that no other thought, no other emotion, intrudes. People who use their mind in this way experience vivid imagery and feel overall such bodily responses as muscle tension and sometimes Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB last wrote for us in our January-February 1997 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom heightened blood pressure. Common occurrences: driving right past your own home, not hearing what people say and asking them to repeat, and not noticing that the phone is ringing insis-tently. Sometimes, by single-minded concentration on a prob-lem, we may come up with a "Eureka!" experience and have a solution. Most of the time, however, I suspect we choose this kind of intensive focus when someone's word or action has wounded us, and we retreat inwardly to chew on the bitter rind of our hurt pride. My suggestion here is that the mind's same powerful ability to focus, its intensity and bright-point targeting, can be used voluntarily in prayer--only this time the focus is on the inner wisdom we all possess through the grace of baptism and indeed all the sacraments and through our enriching experiences of striv-ing to be faithful followers of Jesus and reflective readers of the Gospels. In this way of prayer, we ask the Spirit of Jesus to guide and enlighten us. When we Christians go into the center of our minds and hearts, it is the indwelling Spirit who greets us there. There we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. That central core of ourselves is the inner wisdom of which I speak. It is there, and it is available. But let me make a few distinctions. Some Clarifications I am not referring here to centering prayer or at least to what I understand by centering prayer. To quote Father Thomas Keating in his excellent book Open Mind, Open Heart: "A thought in the context of [centering prayer] is any perception that appears on the inner screen of consciousness. This could be an emotion, an image, a memory, a plan, a noise from outside, a feeling of peace, or even a spiritual communication. In other words, anything what-soever that registers on the inner screen of consciousness is a 'thought.' The method consists of letting go. of every thought dur-ing the time of prayer, even the most devout thoughts." ~ What I am referring to here about consulting your inner wisdom probably comes close to what Keating refers to, and dis-misses, as self reflection?. This, Keating says, is to be got over in order to reach pure cont.emplation. My own proposal is a delib-eratefocusing of thought as if one were using a magnifying glass to Review for Religious ' direct the beams of the sun to one spot. Such a tactic could pen-etrate steel. The discipline I propose is not behavior modification. That highly effective psychological tactic involves visioning an unde-sirable behavior of mine, such as becoming angry with the choir habits of a fellow religious, and then seeing myself calmly allow that person to do his or her own thing without my usual emo-tional upset. Consulting our inner wisdom means having in mind a specific goal (more on this later), then cleansing our mind of external dis-tractions by some relaxation exercise, and, in that calm and focused meditative state, inviting the Lord (or some other spiritual counselor) to help us understand and move towards atti-tudes and behaviors more consonant Jesus, unlike ourselves, with the obedient love with which a allowed himself to Christian wants to identify. This differ-entiates consulting our inner wisdom be angry only.when from simple behavior modification because it sees the change in ourselves the Father's honor and as inspired by the example of Jesus and glory were attacked. not simply as a personal social or emo-tional adjustment, helpful though that might be. Take, for instance, the ques-tion of boundaries. We are all aware how careful we are to pro-tect the spiritual frontiers of our Christan, Jesus-inspired integrity. Anger, rooted in pride, is one such protection effort. Jesus, however, unlike ourselves, allowed himself to be angry only when the Father's honor and glory were attacked. See, for example, the cleansing of the temple or the "woes" in Matthew's Gospel. At all other times, personal attacks did not seem to move him emotionally. When we honestly consult our inner wisdom, we may note boundaries of ours that we fail to protect enough. We may fail to caution ourselves regarding the sight or memory of a sexually attractive person. We may carelessly allow ourselves to recollect wounding words or actions that, even years later, cause us to tighten our fists or clench our jaws. Reflecting upon our inner wisdom, we can suspect or see the dangers of these reactions and thereby find ourselves protected against deep tenacities and inva-sive roots. "When you bury hate in your heart, you bury it alive" is a piece of liberating wisdom worth remembering. ~,~-~-~L~ ~ July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Some Helpful Preliminary Disdplines Any relaxation exercise that suits our personality may be used to induce a meditative state. Relaxing the muscles from the head on down throughout the body is a common practice. The point is to pull the mind away from the leaping about that characterizes our ordinary mental activity. As one Eastern mystic put it, "the mind is like a tree full of chattering monkeys." Another approach, count-ing backward from thirty, demands just enough concentration to clear the mind of other thoughts. Paying attention to your breath-ing also slows down the inner agitation. The current enthusiastic practice of walking a labyrinth serves the same purpose--certainly this was the reason why many European cathedrals have a labyrinth carved in the floor near the entrance. Working through a series of yoga exercises, too, or focusing on a mantra helps some achieve the same end. Before entering into such a disciplinary exercise, it is impor-tant to have a goal in mind: "Jesus, I want to go into the place where you live in me, sit with you there, and talk about this com-pulsion to anger, to judgment, that spurts up so frequently, so involuntarily within me. Open to me your way of living with anger, for you felt it too. Help me draw on the many times I have given in, and the times I have restrained myself and 'stuffed' down my anger, only to see it blaze up in a trivial context once again, a con-text that was most inappropriate. Lord, I want freedom--to the degree my frail humanity allows--freedom from this compulsion. Lord, I am admonished by the wisdom you,.and others, have taught me. I have seen people mellow with the years, and others grow sour. Seeing someone act harshly, hearing another cut into someone's reputation, I react angrily at once, from the simple proud conviction that 'I wouldn't do it that way!' And I quickly find myself locked emotionally and mentally into scathing criticism." Jesus gently points out to us--after we wait silently for a while--that the only times he became angry were when the Father was attacked, ignored, impugned in some way. Our petty and obsessive responses melt before his gentle encouragement. Sometimes when we journey inwardly we become more acutely aware how often we fall into stubborn, addictive behaviors about which we feel helpless. Who is this "other" person who shows up within me, powerful, demanding, whom I watch with anguish as if it were a stranger? We have tried therapy, prescription drugs, behavior modification. The one.thing lacking to these tactics-- Review for Religious and I do not deny their value--is this: They rarely draw on that inner wisdom, that Jesus-centered encounter, where true change can take place. For instance, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped innumerable people, and indeed has an important spiritual com-ponent, namely, surrender to a Higher Power. But surrender in faith is only a beginning. There needs to be private self-ques-tioning that draws on the inner wisdom with which we are graced. Wl~en an addictive, destructive pattern has invaded our psyche so that a part of our life has become disconnected from the normal flow of life, we need to reach into the deepest resources within us: grace, the voice of Jesus, our inner wisdom. Within this intense, highly focused place in our mind, we call on Jesus to walk us through another pattern of behavior. Mental rehearsal is common to many forms of psychother-apy. Seeing yourself in the company of Jesus, however, and con-trasfing sad experiences of the past with "bright angels" of wisdom and true freedom, we choose a different, liberating pattern of action. We establish new boundaries, mentally and visually mov-ing away from the edges of danger. The mental rehearsal itself is now a new behavior that we can draw on when temptation returns. The hand retracts instead of reaching for the bottle, the eyes turn away from the stimulus to lust (maybe "custody of the eyes" was not just a life-depriving tactic after all!), the serving spoon is put down after one moderate portion. Psychologists continue to study how the mind visualizes behaviors and procedures. Imagination and imagery can be used in very sophisticated ways. In a recent New Yorker article, Malcolm Gladwell asks: "What do Wayne Gretzsky, Yo-Yo Ma, and a brain surgeon named Charlie Wilson have in common?" The answer: their practice of careful visualization before any action is taken. These men are virtuosi, and they exercise their great technical skills internally first. They mentally see an action through to the end before they perform it externally. Charlie Wilson, during his morning run, looks at each of the day's operations in his head, visualizing the entire procedure and its potential outcome. He says, "When I was actually doing the operation, it was as if I were doing it for the second time." Once, after finishing an operation, .taking off his gloves, and heading off down the hall, he suddenly realized that "the tape he had been playing in his head didn't match the operation that had unfolded before his eyes. 'I was correlating everything--what I saw, what I ~dy-August 2000 expected, what the X rays said. And I realized that I had not pur-sued one particular thing. So I turned around, scrubbed, and went back in, and, sure enough, there was a little remnant of tumor that was just around the corner. It would have been a disaster.''3 Consulting our inner wisdom involves a similar attention to detail. The skills to visualize here, however, are not the motor skills, but rather the spiritual skills we have accumulated over the years through prayer, scriptural study, and the counsels of wise Christians in spiritual reading and in the living church. It is all there inside, waiting to be drawn on like a rich bank account. Adding to the Inner Wisdom We sometimes feel empty, wandering endlessly in our private deserts. We feel locked into decades-old mental labyrinths. Our motivation flags. Dorothy Day once told a reluctant young friend that God "makes us understand this distaste, this recoil from reli-gion. The lethargy comes from a. consciousness of the immanence of the struggle, the fact that it is unceasing and will go on to death, and we often think that sheer thoughtless paganism would be a relief. ''~ But deep within we accept what the great John Cardinal Newman wrote: "Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body. It would be as absurd to suppose that life could last when the body was cold and motionless and senseless, as to call a soul alive which does not pray. The state or habit the spiritual life exerts itself consists in the continual activity of prayer.''5 Our task consists in never giving up on the faithful practice of prayer. How often we have heard that! And each morning we awake with renewed intention. But then we shoot through the day like a bullet, "busy about many things"--good things, too. When we finally bring ourselves to our inner wisdom, finally sit at the feet of Jesus just for a while, it seems we hear him say: "Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer." And the sentence haunts us, but also frees us now for the best use of our time. It is as though a key has turned in a lock. Sometime~ it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. St. Joseph, who never ~ays a word in the Gospels, is delighted when you join him for an evening and sit with him on a bench just outside the little house in Nazareth. Review for Religious Perhaps Mary will come out, too, and rest awhile as the sun sets behind the Galilean hills. There is a beautiful view from Nazareth over towards the Roman city of Sepphoris, and even beyond to-the great sea. They will talk to you if you question them. When Problems Arise, When Hopes Surface When we go with Jesus into th~ place of our inner wisdom, we make starding discoveries. We may find problems we did not know we have. We are likely to become aware of wasteful, regrettable ways that our head and heart have been capable of, but cannot well afford. There are innumerable clamorous voices. There is the insistent voice of the Problem Solver. He wor-ries relentlessl~ about the future. The muscles around his eyes are taut because he is always peering ahead, looking for solutions there in the distance. He causes headaches and upset stomachs. The expectations of others are his con-stant concern as he tries to weigh a chance remark, interpret a fleeting facial expression. There is no center from which he acts. Life is one wrenching effort to get control of things and people. His bulky appointment calendar, like Marley's chain, gives him away. Another recognizable voice inside us is the Self-Accuser. Her skin gets hot, her hands become fists, as she recalls awkward words and clumsy gestures from years past. She plays memory tapes over and over in our head. No one is more persistent in tearing us down than she is: "You have been in religious life for fifty years now, but that is no proof that God loves you." Nothing so saddens, so pierces the heart like this cry, one we have all heard many times. The Self-Accuser has only to stop talking and thus give,us a quiet moment to lift our eyes to the cross or listen to Jesus' many words of love for us, or to hear Yahweh's endear-ments in the words of prophets and psalmists. But, beaten down by the Self-Accuser's words or shrinking from her grimaces, hear-ing we do not hear, seeing we do not see--because the Self- Accuser in us relendessly shares her deafness and blindness with us, and we chronically allow it. Sometimes it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. j~uly-Aug~tst 2000 There are other inner voices. Perhaps most persistent is the voice of the Lonely One. It does not let us forget that we long to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to whisper and be whis-pered to, to beclose to Another and not feel so alone. Sometimes we do feel consoled and calmed. The lonely restlessness at the center of our being, however, can never be completely quieted; perhaps it is not meant to feel so much peace. It is a reminder of" our desire for our heavenly home. How poignantly John of the Cross describes this quest for the Beloved in his Spiritual Canticle: "Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?" In the hollow center of the soul where inner wisdom and grace live, there also dwells this urgent longing, We carry this wound in our heart. We become aware of it sometimes with hopeful anticipation, some-times with fear. In time, achieving greater integrity--the union between what we appear outwardly to others and what we know inwardly to be true--may calm us to some degree. Disturbing voices within us are balanced by "bright angels" calling us to. greater integrity. We long for inner peace, but only sometimes, with our inner wisdom, do we experience a joyous hope for it. Letting Memory remind us "of those splendid moments when we were touched by God, when we felt the reality of God deeply, is inner wisdom. Those blessed recollections remain when thought and emotions became as one with.an intensity that seems like an embrace. These are wells to which we can return time and again. Another support is Imagination: gathering together the way-ward impulses of our heart, humbly putting them before Jesus as the woman caught in adultery did during her brief moments with him after all the others had gone. And she heard him say, "Neither do I condemn you" (Jn 8:11). We long to hear such healing words, words of forgiveness that bring an offer of reconciliation. Unlike her, we may still hold out, failing to hear those words because of our pride and shame. St. Paul insists: "We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). The repetition of per-sonally inspiring gospel texts (we all have our own)--in a mantra-like fashion, but more intentionally, until they infuse the heart--evokes and strengthens the inner wisdom. "The Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name" (Jn 15:16). "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16). Allowing such words to soothe the heart steadies our resolve. As the Curg d'Ambricourt affirmed on his deathbed in Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest: "All is grace." l~eview for Religious Jesus the Center of Our Being It helps to anchor our resolve in one basic' truth: Jesus is the center of our being, our very existence. Until we can accept that, we cringe when we hear Jesus uttering those breathtaking demands to his disciples: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up h.is cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 10:37-39). Who does this Jesus think he is, pushing into our lives and taking them over? Presuming on our most instinctive loyalties! Preempting our deepest affections! Usurping our natural ties to father, mother, son, and daughter! Boldly proclaiming himself the most important person in our lives! This cross which he demands we take up daily disorients our whole lives, doesn't it? These demands are one way of forcing us to admit quite simply--and we are dazed by the thought--that we are not the center of our own life. Everything in our consumer culture tries to convince us that we are. If we can swallow and digest that one truth, many of the pieces in this vast jigsaw puzzle of our lives would fit together wonderfully. When we realize that Jesus made us the center of his life within his obedient love for his Father--these demands become acceptable, even desirable. My favorite image of intimacy with Jesus comes from John's Gospel. The beloved disciple, while re.clining at table on that unforget-table evening, leans back onto the breast of Jesus. Consulting the inner wisdom that God has put into our hearts, we know we are invited to do the same. Do we have the courage, the love, to do so? Notes ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Opoz Heart (New York: Amity House, 1986), p. 35. 2 Keating, Open Mind, p. 112. 3 Malcolm Gladwell, "The Physical Genius," New Yorker, 2 August 1999, p. 63. 4 Dorothy Day, "Letter to an Agnostic," America (90th Anniversary Issue) 180, no. 13 (17 April 1999): 8. s Quoted in Saint Meinrad Archabbey's Community Bulletin, 4 July 1999, p. 2. ~dy-August 2000 EILEEN E O'HEA Tell Them, Tell the New Members. religious vocations A Mission is clear. That is, most if not all religious insti-tutes have spent days, weeks, months on mission state-ments for their communities. And they have done this bravely, wisely, prayerfully. These statements, coming from their lived experience as dedicated men and women, represent not only what they are doing now but also what they hope to do, or do better, or do more of. Concern for the poor, the marginalized, the disenfran-chised is a substantial part of communities' commitment to do whatever they can to facilitate the reign of God here on earth. A sister in my community, Elaine, one we all agree is charismatic in the true sense of the word, has been riding the chartered bus from New York City to the Bedford Hills Women's Correctional Facility every other Sunday. The bus is filled with inner-city children going to see their mothers. It is a two-hour ride. Elaine's con-cern for the women in prison and for their continuing relationship with their children has made these Sunday visits possible. For more than thirty years Elaine has worked in what she calls "the slammer." Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ, a decade-long contributor to our pages, had her third book published in May: In Wisdom's Kitchen: The Process of Spiritual Direction (Continuum). Her address is still 1750 Marion Street, #8; Roseville, Minnesota 55113. Review for Religiotts "The slammer" is an accurate term because, as Elaine enters, at least ten gates must open and slam shut before she gets to the room where she works within the razor-wired enclosure of this maximum-security prison. The room is now called The Children's Center. Elaine's job has been to do whatever she can to help the women keep in touch with their children. This article will not attempt to describe all that is involved in Elaine's ministry in prison, or to describe the eight convents (called Providence Houses) that she and others have reopened so that women leaving prison have a place to live and a chance to begin again in a new environment. Their children come too, of course. The sisters liv-ing in these houses with the women and children are quite clear about the mission-and-ministry statements of their congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Stories like Elaine's (or Eugene's, as the case may be) are true of individuals or groups in many communities--and are attract-ing new members. "Come and see," we say. Come, join us in try-ing to make a better world. Come, help to bring about systemic change. Every year a few do come. They are searching; they seek something worthwhile to give their life to. They want to make a difference, and they want to be with others, with communities that are facilitating the reign of God on this earth. For some new members, religious life seems to work for a while but then seems to be "not enough," not enough of what they looked for or hoped to find. "What do you get for doing this?" they ask, or "Why stay?" after the excitement of discovery fades; "I can do this without a vowed life of poverty, chastity, and obedience." And they are right; they can. Many women and men, ¯ married or partnered, hold the same values and are involved in the same types of ministry. When we invite new members into this little piece of the vine-yard, into participating with us in mission and ministry, we often forget a simple truth that might literally be underneath their skin. New members seem to be looking for three things: ° a lived expe-rience of gospel values through the mission and ministry of the community; ¯ intimacy, which is part of the friendship found within community; ° and intimacy with the Divine. It is this third one I am concerned about. Elaine and the Providence House sisters are, without a doubt, prayerful, God-centered, holy women. They reflect on the day's Scriptures together, talk about the meaning of the texts for their July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the Nay Members. personal life and for their ministry, and they are committed to some personal prayer each day, usually some form of contempla-tive prayer. If we put prayer, community life, and ministry together, then why is it "not enough"? Admittedly, prayer or Scripture shar-ing sometimes means that those present share their personal strug-gles, philosophies, and theologies and thus can seem too intellectual, or too focused on the external ministerial needs, or too routinely self-focused. Most times, however, it is a heartfelt response to divine inspiration and the Gospels. Is this not "enough"? Perhaps not. Maybe those great mentors like Elaine and others are not sharing quite enough with the new member. We seem to do well at providing and accompanying new mem-bers in meaningful ministry. We also share community and friend- ~hip withthem, but we know, and hope they know, that we cannot supply what did not happen for them in their families of origin. Alice Miller, a leading psychologist of our time, states: "What you didn't get at age two, you will never get." Why? Not because we will not know love and affirmation, but because we will not know them as a two-year-old needed to know them. Intimacy and love is often an issue for new members, and they must work hard at discerning what they are meant to find within the community and what they must find within themselves. Frequently they feel there is not enough intimacy because deep friendships seem hard to find among the members. This is so because most of the members are much older, or are already bonded in relationships that have endured for years, or because the older members are so involved in their ministry that they do not have the time or the energy for anyone else. We probably will never resolve successfully all that is involved in the struggle for intimacy and love within religious communities, but we can do better. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this? What has kept Elaine trudging up to the slammer each day for thirty years? What makes h6r such a holy woman? Is there some experience so sus-taining that makes it worth everything? Is it possible that you, Elaine, have experienced being grasped by Divine Love? Is there something that happens, intimacy with the Divine, that holds you, sustains you, makes you the very delightful and humorous person we all know? Did you encounter Christ in your ministry to the poor and is this what transformed you? Do you, Elaine, know, really know, intimacy with Divine Love or know you dwell in inef- Review for Religious fable Mystery? And is what you experience available to me, the new member? Can you tell me---if, indeed, it did happen for you-- whether it happened all at once, or gradually through the years, and what kinds of psychological, emotional, and spiritual ups and downs you have gone through? Was there one experience that was more formative for you than any other? Intimacy with Divine Love (and people experience it in a variety of ways) is what the human heart longs for, searches for. Our nature is such that we are all meant to realize union in and with the Divine even though each of us will experience it differ-endy. So, when we invite new members to "come and see," we must tell them what they get. In my novitiate days the sixty-four novices (thirty-two have remained these forty years) were told by a very wise and very Irish mistress of novices that, if we left all, we would receive back a hun-dredfold. Did we? I cannot speak for others, but my guess is that most (maybe not all) would say yes and that they would make the same life choice if they had the opportunity to live it over again. They just never say exactly why they would do this. Intimacy in any human relationship of true love is rarely spoken about in detail. The same is true of intim, acy in and with Divine Love. Mystics write about human and divine love because they break through egoeentricity and are no longer reticent or ashamed to speak of the wonder, the awe, the love they experi-ence. Poets write of human and divine love and tease our spiritual appetite by circling around some pro'found experience. They are like eagles riding the air current, then soaring so high we lose sight of them and what they are expressing. They stir up the embers of our hearts with their hints, but eventually leave us feel-ing tantalized by possibility. I do not think it can be any other way. Relationships of true love are intrinsically mysterious because the experience is beyond words, beyond intellectual constructs. The words of the poet point us to the moon, as the Zen saying goes, but once you see the moon the pointer is no longer neces-sary. In fact, it is an impediment. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this ? July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the New Members. What ke~ps us from at least giving hints as poets and lovers do? What can we say to new members if we are not poets? Some, like the poets, will use romantic language to describe their expe-rience of the Divine; others will be more concrete or more tran-scendent in expressing their experience. Recendy, at the end of a mission-and-ministry convocation, someone complained that he seldom heard Jesus referred to throughout the weekend. One of the participants responded by asking, "Is it more important to quote Scripture and refer explic-itly to Jesus or to do what he did and invite people to share the communion of table fellowship with us?" A good question, a great response. It has a familiar ring to many of us. It is the tension between doing works of justice and peace and theologizing about them, and then reflecting on them and integrating them as part of our own personal journey of faith. Simply naming God and Jesus as we talk about our lives and ministry is not what I am referring to. I want "hints" from Elaine and from the remaining thirty-two members of my novitiate. I think the reasons we hesitate to speak about our religious experi-ences are many. We do not all believe the same things about God or Jesus any more, and we do not want to offend, or we are afraid of exposing what is most sacred to us because it might meet with disdain and scoffing, or become the subject of theological combat. And so we are quiet. The pearl of great price is buried. Religious experience is always unique, different with every individual. Two categories, however, help to explicate distinct modes of experience. For those whose religious experience is the esoteric, God is the One beyond all names .and forms and is Mystery. There is nothing to say and nothing to tell because, over their years of spiritual searching, they have discovered this truth: God is ultimately an ineffable Mystery. Some not only take refuge in this discovery, but even collapse into it. They stop searching and ride on their limited knowledge, presuming that what they have discovered is all that can be realized. Consequently, their relationship with ineffable Mystery is rarely spoken of. I think some new members want to know that this experience of ineffable Mystery is not the dead end of the spiritual journey, but a realized source of joy in the one experiencing it; that this connection with the Divine, an experience beyond any human connection, makes a life of celibacy the only choice for them; and that it is this par-ticipation in divine life that impels them to minister to others and Reviev~ for Religious thereby have an experience, however fragile, of equanimity, integrity, wholeness. Esoterics must learn how to share their expe-rience of ineffable Mystery with the new members and admit to them that there is such a thing as the hundredfold. For some others, another type of religious experience is open, one frequently referred to as exoteric. It is the experience of a personal relationship with the

Issue 59.1 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Vowed Life Featur~ Religious Mission ~ Finding God Living Celibat,ely Balkans Report JANUARY FEBRUARY 2_000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER I Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to bollness 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 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: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; V~rashington, D.C. 20017 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. ©2000 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such pertnission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. restrictions, in a world of hate and division, of civilian bombings and life-snuffing concentration camps, this iournal spoke about dialogue and intercommunication, about ministries of love and service, about vocations to align oneself with God's peaceable king-dom and to pray for that kingdom to come. I am thankful for the gift this journal has been to the church, to religious life, and to the spiritual-life developments of our times. I thank God for raising up and inspiring the founding editors to begin the dialogue--something not common in the 1940s--across the different spiritual heritages which are represented by Catholic religious congregations and which continue to feed the spiritual life of church members everywhere. I am grateful for all the writers who have shared their insights, raised questions, instructed in prayer and in ecclesial history, and inspired our ministerial efforts. For all that has been---Thanks! With this first issue of the year 2000 a new-look cover greets our readers, along with a revision of our secondary title. For the previous eight years, because of the creative contribution of the advisory board and the staff, the journal had this shorthand way of stating its content: Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living. After more discussion with current board members and staff, we now state our content even more simply: Living Our Catholic Legacies. Our mission statement, too, has found new expression for things our journal continues to have in view (see inside front cover). This is our way of saying Yes as we look to the future. While we say "To all that shall be--Yes," I have some con-cern about a shrinking subscriber list. We know that the primary readership--women and men religious--continues to grow less in number in the United States and in European countries. I would not like to say Yes to a declining subscription number without encouraging all of you tostir up your own efforts to increase our readers, hopefully even our subscribers, among your own congre-gation members and associate members if you are a religious, and among friends and colleagues who share spiritual companionship and ministry with you. Review for Religious remains a unique journal in the English-speaking world for our continuing educa-tion, formation, and inspiration in living the rich Catholic legacies that form our church spirituality. I hope that you, our readers, share in our appreciation and enthusiasm. "To all that shall be-- Yes!" allows plenty of room for our best efforts. David L. Fleming SJ Januaty-Februa~y 2000 MICHAEL HIMES Returning to Our Ancestral Lands feature I am a little more daunted than I usually am because you are vicars for religious and you bring me in, a dioce-san priest, to talk to you. I can plead two things. One, I lived, during my happy years at the University of Notre Dame, at Moreau Seminary in the company and with the hospitality of the Congregation of Holy Cross and came to have the greatest affection and respect for them. I am now living and working with the Society of Jesus at Boston College and have the greatest respect for the Society of Jesus. My brother, and sometime col-league, is a Franciscan. And so, though I am not a reli-gious, I shared a bedroom for years with a religious, my brother Ken. Besides these attachments to and connections with religious communities, I plead that your having a pas-sionate outside observer may be useful. That is what I come to you as--a concerned, passionate, outside Michael J. Himes, a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn and formerly on the faculties of the University of Notre Dame and of the Seminary of the hnmaculate Conception (Huntington, New York), is currently a professor of theol-ogy at Boston College. He presented this paper (here some-what revised) in March 1999 at the 32nd assembly of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, in whose 1999 Proceedings it was originally published. His address is Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467. Review for Religio us observer of religious life in the church. I am going to talk with you from the perspective of history. My field is the history of Christianity, with a particular interest in ecclesiology. I am going to be looking at both the history of religious life in the church and at its connection with the mission of the church at large. I took my title from Leviticus. The passage in Leviticus on the jubilee year says to mark the jubilee year by returning to our ancestral lands. In Leviticus the reason for doing this is appar-ently that, because every clan, every group, in Israel's history is of importance in God's plan and in the working out of the covenant, no family, no clan, should be allowed to disappear from the land of Israel. And so, if a clan or family gave up its land, within fifty years it would get it back again. I suggest that some of those same themes are true of religious life in the church today. There are too many important, vital, necessary experiences, images, sources of wisdom which have grown up in religious life in the Western church over the course of fifteen centuries to allow them to be lost to the life of the church. We need to go back periodically and reclaim those ances-tral lands, To do that, I want to discuss three issues--and so there will be three parts. Part One: I want to say something about the nature and pur-pose of religious life in the Catholic tradition, but I want to say it from a somewhat unusual perspective. I will explain what that is in just a moment. Part Two: I am going to offer you a thumbnail history--and it is very thumbnail history--of the development of religious life in the Western church. There is quite a distinct history to the development of religious life in the Eastern church, but up to the present moment in the Western church, I suggest, there have been three central moments in the development of religious life. We may be at the end of number three and the start of number four. In Part Three I am going to make some observations about what can be done to reclaim ancestral lands. How do you reclaim values without trying to resuscitate forms? How do you reclaim the value without saying we have got to replicate the history? Nature and Purpose of Vowed Life Let me say something about the nature and purpose of reli-gious life--of vowed life within the Christian community and espe- January-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands cially within the Catholic tradition--from a somewhat unusual perspective. That perspective I take from an immensely productive, distinguished, and influential figure in Protestant theology and philosophy of religion at the beginning of the century that is now ending--a man named Ernst Troeltsch, who died back in 1923. Before the First World War, Troeltsch produced his masterpiece, a thick volume titled The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches. The tide may be misleading to us. You may say to yourself, "All this is well and good, but I do not see what bearing it has on the topic." Let me explain. Just when you least expect it, over the hill will come the topic. Just at the point that you have given up hope of ever hearing anything relevant to your interest, lo and behold, it will make its appearance. Today, when we hear a title like The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, we might expect that it is going to be about what we have come to call social teaching, namely, the teaching of the Christian community about the nature of political and eco-nomic justice within society. That is not what Troeltsch meant by his title. By the Christian churches' social teaching, Troeltsch meant what they taught about tl~eir own natures as societies. I mean, here you have different communities, different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. How did these various Christian societies explain themselves? What is their teaching about their own nature as a society? To trace the development of how different church communities and traditions in the history of the Christian tradition have structured themselves as churches, as communities, Troeltsch approached it in a very interesting and important way. He bor-rowed an idea from a colleague of his at Heidelberg, where he was teaching at the time: one of the great fathers that you may very well know if you have an interest in sociology, Max Weber. Troeltsch borrowed from him the notion of an ideal type. Weber's ideal type means this: You explicate different ways, different models of how a community could be organized with-out reference to any concrete existing community. Then you look at the existing communities--at the actual communities as you find them--and ask: Which of these communities is like type one? Which is like type two? Which is like three? He found this to be a particularly fruitful way of getting people" to look at com-munities and raise questions about them which they might not ordinarily raise. Review for Religious Well, Troeltsch took that notion of an ideal type and sug-gested two ideal types as ways of digging in, as tools for analyzing how different Christian communities have understood their own role, how they structured themselves. Those two ideal types he refers to as church and sect. Sect, let me emphasize, is for Troeltsch by no means a bad word. For us today in America it has come to have all sorts of bad connotations. He means none of those connotations. By sect, Troeltsch means a community of people who come together in fidelity to their under-standing of the gospel, who are united first of all by a powerful, dramatic, and deeply personal experience of conver-sion. So, for Troeltsch, one of the hall-marks of a sect type of community is (1) that all of its members are people who have personally experienced some deep and often strikingly dramatic con-version experience. You have to experi-ence being born again into Christ. You must personally "accept Jesus as your Savior," to use language that is familiar to us from some sect types of community in this country. Another hallmark is (2) that these communities see themselves as peculiarly and specially commissioned communities. There is a vibrant sense of mission. There is a kind of urgency about the fact that you have been called, you have been chosen, you have been commissioned to perform an extremely important work in the name of the gospel. So there is a striking and urgent sense of mis-sion in a sect community. Often a sect community (3) sees itself in terms of being over against the larger community. You are the people who have been called upon; you have been set up as a city on a hilltop, as a light for all the world. You are commissioned in a way that is not true of the community-at-large. You may be called to serve them, but you are different in some way from that larger community, and there should be a clear difference between you and that larger community. The sect community (4) is frequently radical in its vision of what needs to be done in the larger community. That is, it takes positions which the larger community may find to be too diffi-cult, too dangerous, too uncomfortable, too impractical. The Different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. Janual~-FebruatTy 2000 --10A Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands smaller sect community can advocate radical reform and radical movement. The problem with the sect community, however, as Troeltsch points out, is that it seldom survives beyond the second or at most third generation because the first generation (who have had this striking, personal experience) cannot guarantee that their chil-dren's or their grandchildren's generation is going to have that same striking experience. Very often, then, the sect begins to evap-orate or split up in various ways. My favorite image for that may be seen in one of Flannery O'Connor's letters. She has a wonderful description of why she liked to travel in the south on local trains, trains that made every stop. She said you could always, back in the 1940s and 1950s, see such interesting things. She says: "Why, you stop at one little town and you look out the window and there's a white clapboard church. And out in front of the church is a sign that says 'First Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save All People Who are Faithful to Him and Moved by the Holy Spirit.' The train goes five miles down and stops at the next little town, and there is a white clapboard church with a sign in front of it that says, 'Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of the World and of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save the Living and the Dead and MI Those Who are Faithful to the Gospel and Motivated by the Holy Spirit, Reformed.'" And she said, "You knew there was a history here somewhere even though you could not tell quite what it was." There's a tendency for sect communities to splinter or to evaporate. By contrast to the sect community, the church-style community is a community that (1) sees itself as incorporating all sorts of peo-ple into the Christian community. It does not claim that all of its members are equally, highly, or deeply motivated--depending on your point of view. It does not claim that all of its members have striking personal experiences. It allows for the fact that there are different levels of membership, not official membership perhaps, but in terms of involvement in the community. Not everyone is at every moment of her or his life equally fervent or actively engaged in the life of the church. A church (2) does not see itself as necessarily over against the world. There are all sorts of things in the world-at-large that the church wants to embrace and celebrate. You cannot imagine, for example, says Troeltsch, that a sect is necessarily going to embrace Review for Religious the world of the arts and sciences, whereas the church commu-nity will. It embraces the artistic values and the scientific hopes and dreams and goals and methods of a community at any given time. In comparison with a sect, there is a much greater sense of collaboration between people in the church and people outside it. It tries to build bridges. It is a community, therefore, that is much more stable than a sect community. You can be born into a church community; you have to be reborn into a sect community. The idea, for example, of an infant baptism or an infant initiation into a sect would be simply impossible, whereas it is perfectly possible for a church community. The church community sees itself as a process of lifelong nur-ture, whereas the sect community emphasizes radical, dramatic conversion experiences. The danger for church-style community, says Troeltsch, is of course that it can become too secular, it can end up being, as it were, a tool for social stability used by the soci-ety- at-large. Notice that he is not claiming one is better than another; he is setting up--and I am just giving a thumbnail sketch--he is setting up two types of community that he can use as tools with which to examine the history of various church communities. He wants to ask: What is this like? Is it more like a sect? Is it more like a church? In what ways is it like a sect? In what ways is it like a church? Now, why do I propose to you that this is an interesting way to think about religious life? Because Troeltsch makes, almost in passing, one of the most suggestive comments that I have ever seen about religious life in the Catholic tradition. The Catholic Church--certainly back in the first decade of this century when he was looking at it from his own vantage point--is one of the purest church types of organization. He says, however, that the Catholic community has had for many centuries a peculiar and brilliant way of incorporating into itself the most vital, most insightful, most valuable elements of sects that grow up within the ambit of the Catholic community. It makes them religious orders. I suggest to you that--if you think of a community gathering around Anthony in the desert, gathering around Benedict or Scholastica, gathering around Francis and Clare, gathering around Dominic or Ignatius Loyola--you certainly can see those groups as matching up very closely with what Troeltsch has to say about sect communities. You cannot be born into these groups, you have Janua~. -Feb~wa(y 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands got to choose to join. It is a matter of discerning a vocational call. There is a radical break with a previous kind of life in order to enter one of these groups. They are marked by clear and certain images of what mission is and what goal is, and how you shape people to accomplish that goal. The goal includes seeing this com-munity as being very much over against the community-at-large. The group is not simply part of this world, and it is marked as not being part of this world by a kind of rejection of this world's dom-inant values. The danger here is that, if the group is not in some way stabilized by the structure of a church, it can melt away in two or three generations. Troeltsch, of course, pointed out the other danger too. The problem for the Catholic tradition is that, although the church model stabilizes the sect model by "turning sects into religious orders," in Troeltsch's phrase, it can suddenly turn the religious order into simply another branch of the church model--and thus lose the vibrancy of the sect model. I suggest that, if we are going to reclaim ancestral lands, one of the things we have to do is look to vital religious communities to be sects in the Troeltschian sense of sects. We have to look for communities of people who see themselves as personally called, called to a clear and decided mission, and who see themselves as in some way in contrast to the community around them, even in contrast to the church-at-large around them. Now, for how that happens, let me move to Part Two. Some History of the Development of Church Life I would like to make a hundred thousand qualifications, but, so that you can go to bed tonight, let me just give a very general description. I suggest to you that, up to the present moment, there are three stages to the history of religious life in the Western church. The first stage in the Western church--quite apart from the origins in Egypt and Syria and Asia Minor in the East--runs for about seven hundred years, from the middle of the 5th century to the middle of the 12 th century, roughly from A.D. 450 to 1150. If we are looking for an example of that first period, it is the Benedictine movement. What is religious life? Religious life for those first seven hundred years of the Western church is first and foremost a community of persons who have come together and Review for Religious pledged themselves to a life of poverty, a life of celibacy, a life of prayer and contemplation done in community. Why is it so important that it be done in community? Well, there are two versions of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony of Egypt. We do not know which is the real one--whether the shorter one is due to somebody's cutting it down after Athanasius died or whether the longer one includes stuff that somebody added after his death. But the longer one, whoever wrote it, has a striking comment. It says: "Anthony went out to the desert to lead a life of radical devo-tion, deep prayer, and obvious poverty, and in doing so he became a source of wonder. But, when a community of others gathered around him, then he became a sign." That is a very perceptive comment. Living out your life in a radical gospel way makes you a source of astonishment, but what validates you as a sign to the church is that you can do this in a community. Let me put this another way (much less eloquently than the author of the longer life of Anthony does): It is possible to be poor, chaste, obedient, and nuts. We all know that. What guarantees that you are poor, chaste, obedient, and sane? Your ability to live with other people without either killing them or being killed by them. The community is what validates the vows. So this idea of living in community is very important and was very important in the Benedictine tradition from its outset. Clearly there are multiple variants of the monastic ideal throughout those seven hundred years, but that is the image of religious life that dominates the first stage. What is religious life? It is a community of people who come together to live lives of poverty, of celibacy, of devotion and prayer and contempla-tion- and often study too--and who do it in community. That is religious life. That reality has something brand-new added to it in the middle of the 12th century, and for a very practical reason. A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. One of the things that marked the end of the ancient world was the collapse of cities in Western Europe. In the early Middle Ages, society is essentially rural, A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. Janualy-February 2000 2 Himes ¯ Returnin~ to Our Ancestral Lands largely agricultural. There are no great cities for very obvious reasons: the barbarians. Let me remind you here, when we talk about the barbarians, not to picture Jack Palance with a mustache and a horned helmet swooping down to burn and pillage cities! That may have hap-pened along the way too, but, when we talk about the barbar-ians, all of us who are English, Irish, Welsh, or Scottish, Scandinavian, German, Polish, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Belgian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, Sicilian, or northern Italian (from anywhere in Europe but a little piece of land stretch-ing from Naples to just north of Rome)--when we talk about the barbarians we are ta!king about grandma and grandpa. The bar-barians are our ancestors. As they moved into Western Europe, as the empire collapsed, these ancestors of many of us were not stupid. They knew stuff. They knew it takes a lot out of you to burn and pillage. A really good pillage takes a lot of energy. You are not going to waste your time burning and pillaging little one-horse towns. You are going to burn and pillage big cites--that is where the loot is to be got-ten. Since the inhabitants of the Roman empire in its last days were not stupid either, they quickly realized it is much safer living in the little towns than in the big cities: you are less likely to get sacked and pillaged. So, at the end of the ancient world, all over Europe, there is a sort of massive flight to the suburbs. Cities decline, lots of small towns spring up. In that world, how did the church care for people? Well, it was not a money economy. If you were going to found a parish, you were not going to do it with cash. Cash did not mean any-thing in the Middle Ages. Value was in land: it was the land's produce that could support a parish. So some wealthy donor says, "In this town I am giving this field to support the church. It can support two priests so that they can minister to the needs of the people of the town." The problem is, of course, that land is not easily transferable. At the start of the High Middle Ages, from around 1050 on, small towns began to decline in population as people moved back into big cities. In towns where once there were a hundred house-holds, now there were twenty, but there still were two priests for those twenty. Other towns were growing as centers. Where there used to be a hundred households, there were now five thousand households, but there was still only one priest, who was supported Review for Religious by the land donation from centuries before for that town. It is not easy to adjust parish boundaries and clergy resources. So there were growing numbers of people in the major cities of Western Europe who were largely unchurched. Nobody was preaching to them, nobody was teaching them, nobody was lead-ing them into the Gospels, nobody was celebrating sacraments for them. Who was going to tend to these people's needs? New reli-gious communities appeared, communities dedicated above every-thing else to the service of the urban poor. What do they need? Do they need evangelization? We preach. Do they need teaching? We teach. Do they need nursing? We nurse. Whatever they need, that is what we provide. If Benedict and Scholastica are the obvious figures of the first stage, Francis, Clare, and Dominic are the great figures at the start of the second stage, approximately I 150 to 1550. In the course of the Catholic reformation, both prior to and as a response to the Protestant reformers, the church realized that it was going to have to do much better regarding the challenges of a new world. One of the reasons that Luther had such an immense impact--besides the fact that he was immensely insightful--is that he wrote well. He wrote in German and, with the printing press available, turned out lots and lots of copies of relatively short books in the vernacular. Why was it that people like Cajetan and Eck did not have much luck responding to Luther? Because they were turning out thick books, in double columns, in Latin. Nobody was going to read them, even other professors, and so Luther had an impact, whereas initially much of the Catholic response did not. For this third stage we needed a new way to respond to people's needs. Although nobody calls it this, one of the ways was, in effect, the division of l~bor. What we needed was to streamline our styles of pastoral ministry. Instead of communities of people doing what-ever was needed, we were now going to have communities of peo-ple, both women and men, who specialized. We taught young women, we taught young men. We went to the foreign missions. We did nursing. We took care of the elderly. It became clear that different communities had unique apostolates. That model--and I think one can take the Jesuit~ as in many ways the example of this third stage, the embodiment of it--has lasted with great power and great success right down into our own lifetimes. Let me point out something that pertains ~o both the second and the third stages. Something enormously important shifted in Janua~:y-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands the course of the 12th century and, after more than eight hun-dred years, is still decisive for today's religious communities. It still affects what members do: we do this ministry to the urban poor. We do this particular kind of ministry for those who "need" it. What does this presuppose? It presupposes the situation during the second and third stages of Western religious life; it presup-poses people in need. It presupposes a world, and a church, in which the laity were essentially passive. Who was going to do the teach-ing, the preaching, the nursing, the caring, the evangelizing? It was going to be people in religious vows. The simply baptized members of the church--they were the recipients of ministry, they were not people who ministered themselves. An enormous shift happened when Vatican Council II called for a truly alive, energized, and ministerially responsible laity. Because of that shift, inevitably there was going to be some sort of identity crisis for religious life. If what makes me a religious is that I am one of group of people who perform such and such a ministry, and if nowadays other people who are not in vowed life, who are not celibate, and who are not living in community are doing the same ministry that I am doing, then what makes me a religious? Previously the identity of the religious--and I could make a similar case regarding the clergy--has been: "We are the people who do x, Y, and Z, and the laity are the people who have x, ¥, and Z done for them." The laity have been essentially passive recipients of ministry. The moment one begins to talk about the church as a community of people all of whom are called to some kind of ministry by baptism .(and not primarily by religious pro-fession or ordination), then everything shifts. That is why I suggest that we are at the end of the third stage and the beginning of a fourth stage. What does the fourth stage look like? Well, I have not a clu& Actually I may have a clue, but it is nothing more than a clue. Let me hasten to say that one of the occupational hazards of people who pretend to know something about the past is to think that they know everything about the future. With that caution in mind, I speak now with a good deal of self-suspicion, and you should hear it with even more suspicion. It is at least possible that a mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church--it may look more like the first stage than like stage two or three--is that there is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. That, perhaps, is Review for Religious the characteristic of the next stage of religious life. If that proves true, then a category that may be helpful for religious to consider more deeply and theologically is sacramentality. I am not referring to the great seven public and communal sacraments. I mean the much wider and in many ways much richer notion of sacrament, with a small s. And what is that sacrament called? What does sacramentality consist in? I give you Himes's handy-dandy definition of the sacra-mental principle. I have given it often, and it seems true. (After I hear myself say something long enough, it seems to me that it is true!) The definition of the sacramental principle is, I think, this: Whatever is always and every-where true must be noticed, accepted, and celebrated somewhere, sometime. Those things which are always true, those things which are constantly present to us, are almost always ignored. You do not pay attention to the oxygen in a room until it starts t6 go stale. While you have been reading this, you have surely been blinking periodically. Unless you have found my words altogether boring, you have not been counting your blinks. A couple of years ago ] got hit with a bout of Bell's palsy. I could not move anything on the left side of my face, and I could not blink. Throughout the day I had to periodically pull and hold my eyelid down, and tape it down at night. You become very aware of blinking when you cannot do it. When you can do it, when it takes care of itself, you do not pay any attention to it. In order to accept something that is there all the time and make it effectively present, to us, we have to learn to attend to it, to say yes to it, and to celebrate it. What is omnipresent to us? Well, God is: the self-giving of God. That self-giving of God we call, with the benefit of theological shorthand, grace: the self-gift of God's Trinitarian life outside the Trinity itself. It is everywhere. The whole world is just dripping with it; the whole thing is satu- A mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands rated with grace. But, precisely because that is true, it can be ignored. What is always present is seldom noticed. Whatever calls you, whatever person, place, thing, whatever sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, whatever experience leads you to he aware of, to attend to the reality of God's self-offering to you at that moment, to be able to say yes to it and to rejoice in it-- that is a sacra-ment. All told, how many sacraments are there in the world? How many things are there in the universe! That is what I mean by sacramentality. In that sense of the word--and this is where I am going to pick up the theme from Troeltsch in Part One--in that sense, religious life is a sacramental state within the church. We do not recognize that this is a sacramental state the way we recognize marriage as a sacramental state within the church. But it is in fact sacramental because, after all, religious are called to a deep sense of poverty, to a deep sense of responsibility toward and obedi-ence to the needs of those around us, to a responsible use of celibacy that recognizes our dependency on one another and on God. Is there anything there that everyone in the church is not called to by baptism? Why, then, do we need religious life so much? Because religious life "clearly, strikingly, astonishingly" (in the words of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony) leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization. Sacramentality is something that may be crucial for everyone's lively understanding of whht religious life is about and what its relationship to the church-at-large is and can be. How to Be More Sacramentally Aware How do you enliven this sense of sacramentality without repli-cating past forms? How do you rescue age-old values? How do you reclaim ancestral lands without simply going back to old build-ings or forms or structures? What can be done? I begin with a perceptive definition I learned from Jaroslav Pelikan, the distinguished historical theologian recently retired from Yale University. In his Jefferson Lectures at the University of Virginia a few years ago, he said: "We must be very careful to dis-tinguish between tradition ahd traditionalism. Tradition is the liv-ing faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living." Review for Religious One is the continuing, living, vital faith that energized those who have gone before us; that is tradition. Traditionalism is faith main-tained by some among us that in fact is already ossified, entombed, embalmed; there is nothing left in it that is energizing. It is the dead faith of the living. How do we begin to reclaim the living faith of our ancestors? I know that this is going on in religious communities at this moment; it has gone on for a good deal of time. But I urge that it continue, and continue precisely in terms of sacramentality. How do we reflect on the meaning of the vows again? Is it possible that the fourth stage of religious life in the Western church into which I believe we are entering is more like religious life in the first stage than the second or third? As a word of preface, let me say that I have thought about this a good deal. Though I am not a religious, I do share with you a vow of obedience and I do share with you a vow of celibacy. I do not share with you living in community, although in fact I have lived in community. My brother Ken lives in a community of Franciscans with only six other people, and I lived in a house at the seminary in Huntington with fourteen other priests and sixty-five seminarians. I used to tell him: "You became a Franciscan and live in a rectory. I become a diocesan priest and live in a monastery." It is wonderful how God moves things around! The thing that has led me to think about this most is the vow I do not have, the vow of poverty. I find that the things I have vowed are not something I have to think about. I know what obe-dience means. The bishop calls me up and says, "I want to see you about doing x, Y, and Z." And I. say, "Okay, bishop, let me come and talk with you." There is'a structure to that. I do not have to get up in the morning and think: What does it mean to be obedi-ent today? That is taken care of. I do not have to think about what it is to be celibate. I know what means: that is taken care of. There is a structure to that too. What is not structured for me is poverty, and so it is a real problem. What does it mean for me as a university professor to talk Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. Januat3~-Febrtta~y 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands about poverty when I do not have a vow of poverty? How, then, as a baptized member of the Body of Christ, do I incorporate poverty? That is a big issue, and I have thought about it. This is my pref-ace to what I am now going to say about the three vows. Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. It assumes that poverty is about identification with the poor--I am convinced that it is not. I expect some people to say "Oh, but it is.t" I wish it were, but I do not think so. My reason is this: There is an enormous difference between my deciding "I will not eat today" and actually having nothing to eat. If I decide not to eat (even though there are tons of food in tt(e refrigerator) because I want to identify with the poor by going to bed tonight with an empty stomach, I am forgetting something. For me there will be break-fast tomorrow morning, but overnight the poor are thinking: "I would love to have eaten today and I couldn't, and God knows whether I will get anything to eat tomorrow morning." These are simply totally different experiences, and I think it is nothing but self-serving romanticism to say, "Isn't it wonderful that we have identified with the poor!" I think that is just false, and I think it is dangerously false because it is overly romantic. 20 What Is Poverty? I turn to my brother's tradition. Who is the wisest one to have talked about poverty in the Western church? Francis of Assisi. Nobody is wiser on it than Francis. And I suggest that what Francis saw is very much in a line that starts with Augustine. But Francis saw its implications in brand-new ways. What is the most famous line from Augustine? What line does everybody know from St. Augustine? "You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." (A pastor in a diocese not far from here famously used to get up on any saint's feast and say, "Ah, today we remember St. Cuthbert of Auxerre, who is famous for that wonderful statement of his, 'You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless . '" According to this pastor, every saint had said it--or must have said it.) Well, what is Augustine saying? He is saying that all crea-tures- not just all human beings, please notice, but all creatures-- have one deep characteristic. That was what Francis saw so clearly. That deep characteristic is this: At our core, at our heart, we are Review for Religious empty. There is hunger, there is restlessness. The characteristic human experience is "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but more!" You have never known a human being who did not want more. The totally satis-fied, totally fulfilled human being is dead. If you want to see a totally filled human being, drop into your local cemetery. The fact is that what marks us as human beings is endless restlessness, end-less hunger--more, more, more, more, more. I say sometimes to students: "If somebody you know ever says, 'I have everything, I am everything, I know everything, I have experienced everything that I could possibly want, I am perfectly and totally satisfied,' ask the person this: 'Would you like it to last?'" If you had everything, what you would want is more time. There is never a moment when we do not want. That is the characteristic of being a creature. This is what Francis saw and recognized as uniting us with all of creation. That is what Francis saw in the mystical marriage with Lady Poverty, and it is what motivates the Canticle of the Sun. V~y is it Brother Sun and Sister Moon? VVhat is it that makes the moon and the sun, earth and water and air and fire, what makes everything my brother and sister? The fact that we all are marked by one great family resemblance: we are all poor. We did not make ourselves. We are all ultimately dependent. Nobody is fulfilled. If that is true, then poverty is what unites us with all other creatures. If that is so, then I suggest that poverty is the key value in the vows. My own reading of the relationship of the vows is that there are not three. There is one, and two further explications. The cen-tral vow is poverty. Celibacy and obedience are ways of being poor. But poverty is the central one. And the point about poverty is: It is not a social condition first of all, it is not an economic condition first of all. First of all, it is metaphysical; it is what makes you you. To embrace poverty publicly is to embrace, publicly, being a human being. Being poor is being human publicly. It is to embrace the human condition. It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me, limits of time, ultimately. A time is going to come when I will breathe out and think "Gee, I'd like to breathe in"--and it will not happen. There is going to come a time when I will say, "I would like just to get to tomorrow morning," and there will not be time for me to get there. There are limitations on time, there are limitations on energy, there are limitations on strength, there are limitations on courage, there are limitations on wisdom, there are limitations on knowledge. Ultimately I have to look at that and say, "And it is a good thing! I embrace it." Poverty is central. Januao,-Februa~y 2000 '-3! Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands Celibacy is a way of saying that very publicly. I told you that I think there is an overly romantic element in much that has been said about poverty in recent years. I think a huge amount of fatu-ous slop has been written about celibacy. I think that much of what has been done on celibacy in recent years is the most patent non-sense. We have all sorts of stuff saying it is perfectly possible to be celibate and a completely fulfilled and happy man or woman. Junk! The fact is that 99.999 percent of the human race has found, does find, and presumably always will find that the most significant relationship in their lives is being someone's spouse and someone's parent. If I come along and say: "Well, I am no one's spouse and I am no one's parent, and it does not matter a hill of beans. I am just as happy as can be. I am just as fulfilled as you can get. What 99.999 percent of the human race thinks is so important really is not important at all"--well, that is arrogance, stupid arrogance. The whole point of celibacy is, of course, that you are unfulfilled. But, if you can be publicly unfulfilled and still be an intelligent, free, responsible, loving, brave, wise, concerned human being, then your life suggests that maybe "fulfillment" is not what human-ity is about. Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfill-ment is what is characteristic of being a human being. To go around saying "Oh, we're all fulfilled" is to make hash of the whole of the Franciscan tradition. It is to make nonsense of Augustine's restless heart. Manifestly the human race is unfulfilled, and so, when some-body says "Here I am, a publicly vowed celibate," he or she loudly proclaims: "I am unfulfilled, and that is okay. We are all unful-filled. I am just publicly noting the fact. I am a reminder, a clear picture, of the fact that you are as unfulfilled as I am. I am just publicly acknowledging that fact in a particularly striking way." The same thing is true with obedience. Obedience has nothing to do--or almost nothing--with the submission of one person's will to another person's will. That is anti-Christian thinking. The whole point of our relationship to the will of God is that I do not subject my will to God's will. I discover that God's will really is my will, that God's will is what undergirds my will. It is not a question of "Gee, I want this and God wants that and, by hook or by crook, I've got to pull myself around to want what God wants." That is a misunderstanding of God; that is a destructive picture of God. What does obedience mean? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. Obedience is, above everything else, a responsibility to what is: not what you would like, not what you had Review for Religious hoped, not what you wanted, not what you wished, not what you feared, but what is. I used to tell my students that, when you are talking about obedience to a superior, when you are talking about obedience to a bishop, the point is this: You are newly ordained and you get assigned to a parish. You are just the best thing that ever happened to kids. John Bosco looks like a piker. This is just the best thing that ever happened to teenagers. You are gung-ho to work with kids. It happens, however, that at the moment you are needed in this parish. There are not a lot of kids; younger fam-ilies have moved out; it is, in fact, a very elderly neighborhood. If you say, "Well, I just don't work with the elderly, I work with kids," you are being disobedient. You are not being disobedient to the bishop, you are not being disobedient to the pas-tor, you are being disobedient to facts. The fact is that these are the people who are here. You are the person on the spot--serve them! If you find yourself saying inside, "Well, you know, I am not really good at serving them," let yourself hear them saying "Yeah, I know. We've noticed." And then notice that you are the only one there. If the Titanic is going down and you are the nearest ship, do not say, "Well, you know, it would crowd breakfast so terribly to take on these other passengers." The ship is going down. Get over and save them! That is obedience to facts, and it is poverty. It is the recogni-tion that, hey, there are some things I am good at and some things I am not good at. Sometimes I am in positions where what I am not good at is what is most necessary. Then I have to give it my best even though it is clear that I am not going to do very well at it. I may also have the responsibility to say, "Somebody else in here might be a lot better at this than I am." But until that happens I am here, and I will get to work. That is real obedience. It is, once again, poverty. It is a recognition of the limitations of our histor-ical placement. I have been given this time and this place. I would have been just a knockout in the 18th century. In the 18th cen-tury I would have been just wonderful. But there was a problem: I was not begotten until the middle of the 20th century. So, no matter how great you would have been in the 18th century, you What does obedience mean ? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. January-February 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands were not there. Likewise, you might be the best thing that could ever happen to the church of the 24th century. But, unless you have really good genes in your family, you are not going to be there. This is the only century you have; this is the one you bet-ter relate to even though it might not always be the one you wanted. That is the experience of poverty. Celibacy, obedience--both variants of poverty! Why is it so important that religious life seize that value of poverty and be a sign of it for the whole church? Because it is the experience of being a human being. It is the deepest truth about us as human beings. It is what the rest of us, in all sorts of ways, come to grips with or else try to hide from ourselves. Amid all these human beings, there should be communities of women and men who say in the strongest, clearest, and most striking way: "I, too, am poor, and it is good. This is what it is to be a human being." Now, how do you convey that truth to people? Well, it will he different from person to person, from community to com-munity, and from place to place. You cannot replicate the past. If you had known Dominic or Francis, Scholastica or Teresa of Avila, if you had known Ignatius or Vincent de Paul or Jane Frances Fr~myot de Chantal, perhaps they would have said, "I never had a disciple as good as this." But, you see, they never said that. You are not a contemporary of theirs; you are a con-temporary of mine. Francis of Assisi does not need you, but I do. So do not try to relate to Francis of Assisi or Jane Frances, but make a good attempt of getting to me. When, by retaining or recovering important values we "return to our ancestral lands," we are not thereby called to sow the ances-tral crops. Ancient lands can bear new crops, and new crops are needed for a new generation of people. I predict that, in the next fifty years, religious life is going to experience an explosion of growth. It may look different than we expect. Some older com-munities may die or merge--or meld into newer communities. Not every community will experience an explosion, but there will be an explosion of people living publicly vowed lives in community as sacramental signs to the rest of us of how the Christian tradition understands genuine humanity. I predict that sects, in Troeltsch's meaning, will be powerfully witnessing to the church so that the church is not allowed to become a hidebound and ossified insti-tution. This explosion will happen because the church could not survive without it--and we have the Lord's word that the church Review for Religious will survive. But I do not know how it will happen. The how ques-tion has never been the forte of the church, which, in its own poverty, only just manages to keep going. These observations are those of a passionate religious watcher. In some new ways, religious life will still be there in the future, for the church needs you. I have no doubt that, if only I could live thousand years longer, I could write a whopping good book about that future. Questions for Reflection and Discussion 1. What elements of religious life have been eclipsed in recent years and need to be reclaimed? 2. How do we reclaim values without retreating to past forms? 3. Where do our particular religious communities fit in the development of vowed life in the church's history? 4. How can we establish community in religious life when the community is not its own center? Blink I like to think of thegn sledding, graceful, flying down some swift hill, the white in their hair only snow, bright gloves flashing in the wind above the aluminum board not as this aged couple she scarved in purple, taking careful steps in ankle boots, clutching a brown grocery bag, he shuffling two steps ahead, the long cool silver ironing board tucked beneath his arm. Doretta Cornell RDC January-Februmy 2000 religious mission JOHN KLEIN Transforming Mission: A Spirit of Adventure On 22 March 1999 a headline appeared in the New York Times reading: "Voyage End Brings Crew Back Down to Earth." The article recounted the voyage of the first two balloonists to circle the globe, aboard Breitling Orbiter III. The trip lasted nineteen days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-five minutes and covered a total of 29,054.6 miles. During their news conference one of the adventurers, Dr. Bertrand Piccard, a Swiss psychiatrist, reflected upon their experience: "It was not a matter of setting records; it was a fabulous metaphor of life. To try is the only way to survive." His compatriot, Brian Jones, a former member of the British Air Force, added: "We are not heroes. We just proved that dreams could come true.m Later in the interview Dr. Piccard admitted that the journey posed significant risks, struggles, and sacrifices. Confined in their 16.5 foot-by-10 foot capsule, freezing cold, and often lack-ing water, the adventurers nearly abandoned their effort several times. Piccard said, "When one of us was about to give up, the other would support him." This Magellanesque journey offers us a fabulous metaphor for our lives as religious leaders. Like Piccard and Jones, we find ourselves on a journey demanding John Klein FMS gave this presidential address at the August 1999 assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His address is Marist High School; 1241 Kennedy Boulevard; Bayonne, New Jersey 07002. Review for Religious that we move beyond preconceived boundaries, one that forces us to tap into unsuspected personal and corporate resources, one that calls us to risk and trust and sometimes upset the status quo, one that invites us to dream of new possibilities and challenges, one that beckons us to move from the center to the margins. Religious leadership today is truly an adventure extending Jesus' mission to proclaim the kingdom and to make God known and loved. Mission is a description of Jesus, the Son of God, who invites us to be adventurers and dreamers with him. The daily realities of our work, however, do not permit us to escape being administrators, managers, fund-raisers, therapists, legal experts, and arbiters. Who has the time and the energy to dream and to participate in an adventure? How can we become "unstuck" and move forward the renewal of religious life? The church historian John W. O'Malley SJ has said, "It is more diffi-cult to reform a religious order than to found one.''2 Our expe-rience during the past thirty years certainly confirms this. Nonetheless, our role as leaders offers us a wonderful opportu-nity to influence and design the future, remembering that this project of religious life is God's work and not ours. With hope, like Jacob waking from his dream at Bethel, we can say of our time and our struggles, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it" (Gn 28:16). With confidence, like St. Paul in his Second Letter to Timothy (1:6-7), we can remind each other that "God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but rather a spirit of power and of love." It is in this spirit that we can face the future and set out on an adventure not of our design, but God's. John Gardner in his book Self-Renewal offers a sobering pre-diction if we opt to respond otherwise. He says: "If people are apathetic, defeated in spirit, or unable to imagine a future worth striving for, the game is lost.''3 We cannot lose this game. On the contrary, we need to see our present situation as opportunity. We need to articulate a high level of expectations for ourselves, the members of our congregations, and the institutions we own and sponsor. We are called to do this in a culture that does not share our values, but rather extols individualism, tends to privatize reli-gion, and fails to engender a true sense of community. Archbishop Rembert Weakland recently highlighted this challenge, asserting that "one of the most difficult pastoral tasks of our day., that has challenged the renewal at every turn is precisely how to overcome the cultural bias of our age toward the individualistic. ''4 Janumy-February 2000 Klein ¯ Tran~fomning Mission Our religious communities have not remained immune from these societal influences. On the contrary, society has tended to co-opt us and has led many religious to make private accommo-dations to religious life. This cripples our mission, diminishes a sense of esprit de corps and solidarity, and saps our energy and possibilities for the future. "The Nygren and Ukeritis study already warned that, despite their language of prophecy and sol-idarity with the poor, many religious in the United States may be far more accommodated and assimilated into the dominant cul-ture than they like to believe. The penchant for individualism and self-fulfillment so characteristic of this culture has found a ready berth in many religious communities. Self-determination has eroded communal and institutional commitments.''s Given this situation, how are we as religious leaders called to respond? I believe that we can discover the answer by reflecting on the example that Jesus provides us. The Letter to the Hebrews (12:2) refers to Jesus as the pioneer. He is the one who goes before us to offer the example and then returns to us to point the direction and to reassiire us that he is always present with us. Jesus is the adventurer calling us to join with him in mission and to fan the embers our commitment into a flame spreading new life and hope. Like us, Jesus found himself engaged in mission, searching for ways to engender new life, struggling and sometimes discour-aged with a disparate band of disciples, and confronting a society at best indifferent to his values and vision. How did he respond? What was and is Jesus' mission? How did he endeavor to foster new life? How did he pursue his mission and commitment? How did he accomplish the transformation of the lives of his disciples and the many others whom he touched as well? By probing these questions we will begin to perceive ourselves as part of a unique adventure that will transform our mission and foster new life. However, we do not probe the questions alone. This effort must be a collaborative and communal one. While we do not need everyone in our province or congregation to participate in this effort, we do need a "critical mass" of people to share the adventure. Only this will move our mission and our group for-ward. "What we dream alone remains just a dream, but what we dream with others can become a reality.''6 If we willingly dream together in faith, then our mission will be transformed and we will have the confidence that our best years are ahead of us. In all of Review for Religious our efforts together, Jesus, the pioneer, presents the lens through which we can discern our course of action and catch a glimpse of the religious life of the future. This is particularly true in three aspects of his mission that challenge us today: Jesus' deep spiri-tuality and relationship to his Father, his commitment to mis-sion at the margins of society, and, finally, his formation of an intentional community of disciples to carry his mission forward. Our following his response in these areas will, I believe, offer the compelling ways through which we will discover our unique role in society and the church. Jesus appreciated better than anyone that to be in close, intimate relationship with God inevitably makes people countercultural and dis-tinctive. It places them in a dangerous situation, making them as disciples part of a cultural minority. This minority cannot help seeing the world and society through different eyes, the eyes of Jesus. This vision encourages those who follow Jesus to choose new life by loving the Lord, our God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him (Dt 30:15-20). Seeing reality this way meant new life for Jesus also, for his profound spirituality caused him to turn society's values on their head and, in the process, made him a dangerous person. We see this clearly in Jesus' table fellowship. He ate with scribes and Pharisees, with the poor and destitute, with tax col-lectors and sinners. By breaking boundaries, risking disapproval, and "imaging" the reality of God for the people of his time, Jesus made his mission, the proclamation of the kingdom, tangible. It was in food-and-drink situations that he revealed the divine gifts of joy (Mt 9:15), pardon (Lk 7:47), salvation (Lk 19:9), and super-abundance (Mr 14:15-2 I). It is at table that we witness the trans-forming conversion of Zacchaeus, Jesus' example of servant leadership, and the opening of the weary disciples' eyes at Emmaus. It is therefore primarily at his table, at his Eucharist, where we religious will find new life for our mission. It is at his table that we will encounter him through the lives of sinners and outcasts, our brothers and sisters, realizing that the margin is our home too. In his message for the World Day of Peace, Pope John Paul II exhorted us to "recognize Christ in the poorest and the most marginalized, those whom the Eucharist--which is communion What was and is Jesus' mission ? Janualy-Februaly 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission in the body and blood of Christ given up for us--commits us to serve. As the parable of the rich man, who will remain forever without a name, and the poor man called Lazarus clearly shows, 'in the stark contrast between the insensitive rich man and the poor in need of everything, God is on the latter's side.' We too must be on this same side.''7 The side of the poor and disenfran-chised is the side where the religious man and woman must be found. Whether or not we work directly with the poor, we can-not escape the imperative of seeing the world with the eyes of the poor. This attitude, then, will inform our prayer, our work, and our lifestyles. The Gospel of Luke reminds us that the sign that Jesus is "the one who is to come" is that the poor are having the Good News proclaimed to them. In this Jesus gave flesh to his kingdom and illustrated that the reign of God is now. Our mission as reli-gious leaders represents the continuing participation in his incar-nation. Our mission calls us to illustrate that economic and social boundaries are artificial, made by human hands. Our mission proclaims that, if "we truly want to see the glory of God, we must move downward with Jesus. This is the deepest reason for living in solidarity with poor, oppressed, and handicapped people. They are the ones through whom God's glory can manifest itself to us. They show us the way to God, the way to salvation.''8 To ignore the sorrows and needs of others is to ignore the flesh of Jesus and to deny the incarnation. For us to make the "option for the poor" a reality will mean a conversion of mind and heart. It is a conversion that will find its source in prayer, reflection, and Eucharist. It is a conversion that demonstrates itself through simplicity of lifestyle and sensi-tivity to those less fortunate than we. Too often we have claimed the adjectives prophetic and countercultural for ourselves. It would be far better that others attribute them to us after seeing the way we live and work and pray. They will do so if we make certain that our rhetoric and our reality coincide and that our lifestyles reflect charism rather than just personal choices. Johann Baptist Metz once wrote that "religious orders are a kind of shock therapy. ¯ for the church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommoda-tions and questionable compromises that the church . . . can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the gospel and the imitation of Christ. In this sense they ire the insti-tutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the church.''9 Review for Religious Our mission today is to be dangerous as Jesus was and to make Metz's description of us real. This mission is by its very nature a communal one, and I believe that new life for the mission of Christ will be found, not necessarily in endeavoring to enliven already existing local com-munities, but rather in forming new intentional communities within our groups. In addressing the obstacles to refounding a religious community, Gerald Arbuclde acknowledged that efforts to "move" or "change" a group inevitably encounter significant resistance. Hence, he says, "The new belongs elsewhere." These communities, similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples, have mission at their center and heart. Mission conse-quently operates as their chief source of connectedness and energy. Members of an intentional community realize that they cannot minister to others outside unless they live in a community founded on inter-dependence and a mutuality informed by faith. This faith life sensitively balances the needs of the community and those of each individual and finds sharing of faith to be indispensable to its life. This inevitably leads to a high level of trust that allows mem-bers to challenge one another's behavior in light of a commonly accepted vision and goal. While these intentional communities meet some of the emotional, social, and intellectual needs of its members, they are in no way therapeutic support centers. An intentional community is "a group of religious living together who feel the need to be supported in their ministries and willingly commit themselves to develop a gospel-centered intimacy to be expressed in shared faith, ongoing conversation, and shared action."1° In short, an intentional community is one that has a clear and visible and easily identifiable way of life. Such a group offers the world what it does not find elsewhere: a community of faith, friendship, and mutual support engaged in an adventure larger than itself. In writing about his hopes for Dominican communities, Timothy Radcliffe OP, the master general, highlighted the impor-tance of such communities for the future of religious life. These groups, he maintained, carry within themselves seeds of new life. Communities similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples have mission at their center and heart. January-Februaty 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission "Unless a province plans the building of such communities, then it dies. A province with three communities where the brethren flourish in their Dominican life has a future, with the grace of God. A province with twenty communities where we just survive may well have none." it To say the least, we religious at the threshold of the new mil-lennium face significant challenges as we participate in Jesus' adventure. Allowing God to transform our mission and ourselves will not be a process devoid of risk and some pain. Nonetheless, to do otherwise would rob our religious families of the new life necessary to bring them into the future and, as a result, would put at risk our contribution to the mission of Christ. In the conclu-sion of Vita consecrata, the Holy Father asserts that religious "have not only a glorious history to remember and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished! Look to the future, where the Spirit is sending you in order to do even greater things" (VC §110). A real test of our faith and gospel hope is our belief in the truth of John Paul's words. Martin Heidegger once compared the journey of life to a person walking in a huge forest where it is pitch dark, where it is raining and thundering, and one has completely lost the way. There is a bolt of lightning and for an instant the way is clear. Then it is dark again. All one can and must do is keep going in the direction one saw illuminated by the lightning flash. This is our challenge and our opportunity: to keep going, to trust that God is faithful, to remember the way in the light of those key moments through which God intervenes in our lives. Most of our life we must move ahead in darkness, sustained in our faithfulness by what we once glimpsed when, if only for an instant, everything was clear.12 Notes ~ New York Times, 22 March 1999, p. 8. -' John W. O'Malley SJ, Tradition and Transition: H#torical Perspectives on Vatican II (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1989), p. 97. 3 Albert DiIanni SM, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994), p. 108. 4 Rembert Weakland OSB, "Liturgy and Common Ground," America 180, no. 5 (20 February 1999): 9. s Robert J. Schreiter, "Challenges and Directions of Religious Life at the Turn of the Millennium," Address given at the inauguration of the Center for the Study of Religious Life, 21 June 1998, p. 11. Review for Religious 6 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, "Religious Life in America Faces a Change of Epoch," paper prepared for the Inter-American Meeting in Toronto, May 1999, p. 13. 7 Pope John Paul II, "Message for the Celebration of the World Day of Peace," 1 January 1999, p. 21. s Robert A. Jonas, Henri Nouwen (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998), p. 35. 9 Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, From Chaos to Mission: Refounding Religious Life Formation (Strathfield, N.S.W.: St. Paul's Publications, 1996), p. 11. ~0 Arbuclde, From Chaos to Mission, p. 15 I. " Timothy Radcliffe OP, Pastoral letter "The Promise of Life," 2 February 1999, p. 3. ~2 John Fullenbach, Prodaiming His Kingdom (Manila: Divine Word Publications, 1992), p. 190. The Joys of January Beautiful month of the cold, clean slate: nothing mars its pristine glare. Starlings stare, perched on empty limbs shaking in their purity. The air bears thoughts of ice. Wind cuts through whispers. Walls show us where twigs scrape messages: deliver words, deliver us: bend, blow beautifully, winter stems. Wake us. The dark recedes, we see our breath, a flickering. Light. Mary Kennan Herbert Janua~. -Febmtmy 2000 A. PAUL DOMINIC Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy Spurely, in the Indian experience, joy has not been a strong oint in religious life, in fact or in principle. This came to me as a rude shock twenty-odd years ago during a chat with a couple of sisters. As I was leaving their place, one of them made a particularly religious sort of request: "Father, will you please pray for vocations to our congregation?" I replied at once, though with some inner hesitation, "Why pray? If you are all happy, the girls will simply flock to you!" When I said this, I did not know I was echoing the mind of Pope Paul vI revealed in his 1971 apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio (§55). I must not have impressed them, for one of them said to me later, "But you must know we are religious!" Though that was not a recent event, attitudes of this type do not change in a single generation--though I would like to be proved wrong. Incidentally, the rumor of joyless religious life is not an exclusively Indian phenomenon: most of the religious con-gregations here have been transported from the West. Why, the very fact that a paper on consecrated life as anointed with joy was read in 1998 in San Antonio, Texas, at the annual confer-ence of vicars of religious implies that even modern American religious are not above the need of awakening to joy in their life of consecration.' A. Paul Dominic SJ last wrote for us in November-December 1995. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religiota This sad state of affairs in religious life is a reflection of Christianity in general, which has been accused of joylessness by both Westerners and Easterners. Nietzsche, for instance, has ridiculed the claim of Christians to have been saved by Christ. If it were really so, he argues, why could they not look joyful instead of appearing so remarkably gloomy? The Indian Shree Rajneesh, quite celebrated in his way, has been no less categorical in his attack on Christian attitudes. "Christians say that Jesus never laughed!" he alleges, and counters: "Now this seems to be the ulti-mate in stupidity. Jesus . never laughed? Then who else can laugh? . . They have made his picture very sad-looking, long-faced, burdened. This is not possible. This is utterly wrong.''2 All this non-Christian aspersion may well serve as a goad, particularly for us religious, to discover or rediscover the characteristic joy of Christ and enter into it (see Mt 25:21 and 23) and thus be evange-lized, that is, "gladdened by the good news" of our redemption. The Oil of Gladness It is heartening to observe that, in the biblical experience, there is a joyous anointing, besides several others. This joyous anointing is bestowed on the righteous king, that is, the king who loves justice, producing the pleasure of the people without seeking his own fortune (Ps 45:3-8). Who can this joyously anointed king be but him whose very name is Christ, meaning, of course, "the anointed one"? He is the one who, as no other, can witness to his joy in this fashion: "I was beside the master crafts-man, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere on his earth, delighting to be with the children of men" (Pv 8:30-3 I). If, by virtue of baptismal consecration, every Christian shares in the life of the joyously anointed Christ, what may we conclude about those consecrated further by religious profession? Being anointed with the oil of gladness is no doubt a charism person-ally received; it is, however, not to be enjoyed as a private pos-session, but to be ever passed on for the surprise enjoyment of others. If religious are genuine enough, they will necessarily make their anointing evident, for the joyous enhancement of others. Leading lives of contagious joy" because their God is the joy of their never ending youth, they will liberate the masses from their oppressed lives and lead them into the same joy. January-Febrnary 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy All truly enlightened persons, whatever their religion, would share in this lofty, uplifting, and truly religious sentiment of theirs. People's innermost recesses would be affected, and there-fore the social fabric too. For instance, among the Hindu Tamil saints was Tayumanavar, who prayed out of the abundance of his holy joy: "That all should be happy is my one wish, Almighty One! This is the only thing I know!" The Christian ashrams here in India have, in proper inter-religious spirit, followed suit in earnest and have introduced, somewhere at the beginning of Lauds, the singing of the Sanskrit sloka "Lokah samasta sukhino bhavantu," which means "May all the world be happy!" This vision of joy, flowing to us from God and necessarily flowing to others from us, is certainly wonderful. How do we make this vision vivid to ourselves and transparent to others in a practicable, communicable way? The Religious Way of Joy The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life, basically and paradoxically, in its human and of course ecological dimension. There God will be available, not absent. For one thing, where joy is there will be no room for complaining. Complaining is a root of the atheist's mindset (see Ph 2:14-15). Habitually complaining persons construe everything as wrong, in sharp contrast to the divine intention exhibited in creation and providence (see Gn 1 and Mt 5:45), and so they can-not subscribe to any belief in God. Even if they claimed to believe, their belief would be the result of some psychological or religious conditioning and so only superficial, if not spurious. Rajneesh warns against such joyless nominal faith, advocat-ing an increasing enjoyment of life as the way to find God-given joy in ourselves. He says: Any small thing is full of God! So love this life . Eat, enjoy the food, and let God come to you as a taste. Listen to music, get lost in it, and let God come to you as sound ¯ . . as harmony. Let God descend on you slowly, without any hankering to catch hold of him . Just open yourself as much as possible--to the trees, to the birds, to the rains, to the sun, to the sands¯ Open yourself wherever you are; absorb, and gratitude will arise . And you will not know towards whom this gratitude is arising. When you don't know towards whom., it is towards God) Review for Religious Does this not read like a poetic rendition of the Contemplation to Attain love offered by St. Ignatius at the very climax of his Spiritual Exercises (§§230-237) to train people to find the joy of God no less outside their retreat than in it? Again, does this not evoke the following bold and originally controversial remark of St. Paul? "If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:30-31; see also Col 3:16-17). Again, does this not read like an expository commentary on the praxis and pronouncements of Jesus? He, whose mission was to make known the heart of God to humanity, did not speak explicitly about God as much as he spoke about the happiness people longed for. He assured them that they were des-tined for joy, and, to prove it, he went about doing good for them in ever sur-prising ways. He fed them in their hunger without being asked, and he sat-isfied them. In that way he led them to discover for themselves that it was God who fed them to their heart's content. He healed them of their many illnesses and gladdened them and in that way enlightened them about how God meant them to be healthy and happy. His teaching was new precisely in proclaiming that they were at the threshold of an altogether new blessedness, thanks to the unique intervention God was initiating in humanity. He declared a new law, the law of beatitude (see Mt 5:1-10), for all, but particularly for the poor, that is, for those who longed for blessedness (see Lk 10:23-24). All this would have been offensive to people who abided by their fixed religious ways without, however, conspicu-ous happy living. To those who made much of fasting, for instance, he declared himself against it unless times and seasons made sense of it and demanded it. Indeed, he approved of feast-ing before fasting, gladly characterizing himself as one who came in the spirit of God's new time, eating, drinking, and partying in marked contrast to his predecessor, and not fighting shy of the The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life in its human and of course ecological dimension. .~anualy-Februa~y 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy nicknames "glutton" and "drunkard" that some hurled at him. Because he found the joy of God in feasting in God's name, he could also, paradoxically, find the God of joy while abstaining from any feast. Is it not quite revelatory, when we come to think of it, that the word feast denotes both a lavish meal (as at a wed-ding) and a periodic religious observance? Christ was persuaded . that God himself was feasting, and so he would urge people undertaking a fast to present an appearance of joy (Mt 6:16-18). Whatever delightful stories of God he told had invariably the magic spell of joy in life. The stories suggest that only those who have known the joy of a wedding feast, or a bumper harvest, or an unexpected catch of fish, or giving birth to a child, or finding a lost coin or son, or stumbling on a treasure, or seeing and being a child, and so forth, could understand and delight in God. They as much as say that anyone who has known none of life's ordinary joys would be unable to know, let alone enjoy, God in their life-- even though God, as the source of all other joys, is a joy well above life's mundane joys. So Christ's call to joy was constant and compelling, encouraging us to be open to unnoticed joys around us and then to greater joy: Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do no worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?". Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. (Mt 6:26-32) All who have known and enjoyed God thus in life will hope-fully carry this, their basic thrill of happiness, all through their life and will further develop their happy character through life's tasks, trials, and temptations. Anointing Others with Joy Like the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, the more we become what we are (namely, anointed with joy) by growing in the joy that abides in us from our looking at Jesus, the pioneer Review for Religious of our joy, the more we shall be able to anoint others with joy. Sensing this dynamic of joy, how does one move in this mission of joy (evangelization, translated literally)? Basic to any move in relation to others is openness to all so that all may have life. The joy within us, if genuine, will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make every-one welcome indiscriminately. This is what Christ did. He who said "Let the little children come to me" in an age when they counted for little had much the same attitude of welcome towards all, Jew or gentile or Samaritan, Pharisee or Sadducee or rogue, man or woman, young or old, high or low, rich or poor, clean or dirty, learned or illiterate, virtu-ous or sinful, and so forth, irrespec-tive of all segregations prevailing in his day. When he did make choices, however, it was doubtless towards the poor of all sorts, showing compas-sion for the multitude that was like sheep without a shepherd, saying that he had come for sinners, not the virtuous, and that the Spirit had anointed him to bring good news to the poor, to prisoners, the blind, and the oppressed. And so they, the poor masses, who Jesus sadly foretold are with us always (more glaringly now than ever before), have the greatest claim on our mission of joy. How do we set about this privileged mission? Thefirst move must be to initiate or maintain solidarity with people in their joyless situation, following the incarnation's prin-ciple of bringing joy to the world. We need to be one with them as far as possible. Ideally, of course, we should be so much one with them that nothing differentiates us from them in sur-rounding society. Meanwhile every attempt we make in this direc-tion will be an opening of joy to the unfortunates with whom we seek to share our own joy. During my turn as chaplain at a home for the aged, the day I began eating with them at their own table (something they had never seen before) was a matter of undreamt-of joy for them, far more beneficial than my liturgical or homiletic performance. The ontological principle actio in distans repugnat is no less sociological and evangelical. When Jesus sent his disciples The joy within us will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make everyone welcome indiscriminately. January-February 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy on mission, what was he doing but bridging the gap between the teaching tribe and the taught? In his clear instruction to them to stay and eat happily with their hosts, what was he aiming at but their insertion into their very midst? When he himself was at home in the company of the sick and suffering and sinful, what was he exhibiting but his identification with their milieu? The second move must be to respond to the felt desires of those whom we have chosen to serve foremost in the promotion of joy. The Bible has as much to do with this as with the worship of God (see Is 58:6-10, Am 5:21-24, Mi 6:6-8). However much we may have identified with various persons, we may be mistaken about their drives and urges. That is why we have not had in great numbers the likes of St. Peter Claver and Blessed Katherine Drexel in the history of slavery, or of Bishop Romero and Corazon Aquino (once president of the Philippines) in the much delayed popular struggle, or of Little Sister Madeleine of Jesus and professor-turned-preacher Peter Reddy pitching their tents on the fringe of society.4 To work today toward a better future, it would on our part be best if we had people spell out their desires and then responded to them. Though at times Jesus' benefac-tions were a surprise to the beneficiaries of them, often he led people to be aware of their needs and then proceeded to respond to those needs, and bring joy (see Mk 10:46-52, Jn 4:4-42, Jn 5:1-9, even Mt 20:20-23). Besides this, he was quick to sense and fill the deeper spiritual needs they felt in spite of, or along with, their physical or social ones (as in the cases of Mary of Magdala and Joanna, Bartimaeus, Zacchaeus, the Samaritan outcast, and the Gerasene demoniac). Unlike him was the North American priest working in a South American parish who, to his dismay, discovered from his old cat-echist that his people, whom he had raised economically to a sat-isfactory level, were leaving him for a newfound evangelical pastor because they wanted to hear the glad news of the gospel. The third move in our mission will be, therefore, to lay bare the hidden needs of the spirit, at whatever level people may be, and to bring them to a higher level that engages their own inner resources. There is a time and reason for attending to and filling their mate-rial needs, and also for sensitizing themto higher needs and, with the conviction learned from Jesus, inviting them to higher joy: "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33). Review for Religious Reality may seem to fly in the face of this assurance, but can-not negate it altogether. People like Paul, who by God's grace knew a deep joy in penury as well as in plenty (Ph 4:11-13), show the truth of Jesus' words. In declaring that God has a higher claim on people and fills a deeper need than ordinary earthly liv-ing makes them concerned about, Jesus was not being naive. Well aware of the problematic reverses of human life, he was aware too of the privileged reserves of the human spirit. And so he would train people in tested, mature happiness by his winning counsel: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows" (Mt 10:29-31). This stance leads us to the fourth move, namely, to encour-age and fortify people caught in suffering to rise above it and emerge in joy. Would this work in life? It can and does, because it did in Christ's life. Even though all through his public life he encountered opposition from many quarters and faced threats to his life from authorities like Herod, he carried on his work with joyous determination and courage that were the mark of his unflinching faith in God. When his disciples were sorely troubled by his uncertain future, he reassured them emphati-cally: "Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy" (Jn 16:20). He urged them to ask the Father for any-thing in his name and to count on receiving it so that their joy might be complete On 16:24). The fifth move will be to witness to the revelation of how exceptionally suffering people may anticipate their joy in their very suffering (as Jesus himself did), and not in spite of it. At the end of his life, when the worst of his fears were to overtake him, he made a celebration of his last meal, carried himself with joyous strength of an unusual kind, and imparted to his dis-heartened disciples his sure vision of their future mission of suc-cess with words of comfort: "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (Jn 15:1 I). He concluded by asking the Father that his distraught disciples might have his own joy made complete in their very selves (Jn 17:13). From his personal experience he could witness to the joy of the persecuted poor, not only in principle by declaring them Janumy-Februal~ 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of ,yoy blessed (Mt 5:10-12), but also in practice by bringing public recognition to people who were quietly but surely joyful, such as the poor widow who made an offering to God of all her sav-ings with sure, spontaneous, though unglamorous, joy (Mk 12:41- 44). The most moving story of this kind that I know is this: A woman took a priest to her home to" show him a secret of hers. Hidden in a corner was her bedridden eight-year-old son, with the body of a child and the head of an adult, with a darting tongue like a snake's. Seeing the sight he groaned; but she did not hear it, for she was saying, "Father, I have looked after this child for eight years now. He knows only me. I love him very much. Almost no one knows about it." In speaking thus warmly of her son, she did not hesitate to speak happily about her God as well: "God is good. God is our Father.,,s The more such secrets are known, the more joy will abound on the earth! The sixth move in evangelization is to declare, after due dis-cernment, how the good and glad program of God for humanity is being carried out even at the social level. Christ began his min-istry of joy at Nazareth, making precisely such a discerned dec-laration to his townsfolk. More than Jesus' proclamation of the good plan of God for their welfare, what pleasantly surprised them was the accompanying announcement of its effectiveness then and there in the very workings of their society (Lk 4:21). All through his later ministry, too, he was intent on making peo-ple recognize the growing social implementation of the divine plan carried on through the mediation of works of gladness done by himself (Lk 7:18-22 and 11:20) and like-minded others, whether among his explicit followers or unattached admirers (Mk 7:1-9, 9:11-12 and 38-40, and 12:34; Lk 10:i0-11 and 18-19). In our evangelization, therefore, we need to be on the watch to dis-cern and broadcast the divine reformation and revolution willy-nilly taking place in the world, thanks to our cooperative works, small or big, and those of many, many others, done--in the spirit of the Servant of Yahweh--quietly, steadfastly, and effectively (Mt 12:19-21). Even as we rejoice and lead others to rejoice in the magnalia Dei present in contemporary society, we also know and cannot deny the ungodly contradictions that afflict our web of life covertly and overtly. The best move in this situation--and this is the seventh and last move in our task of joy--is to channel into our world the spirit of the Book of Revelation, namely, a mood of Review for Religious faith and hope: faith in God revealed in the great works of joy already experienced, and hope in God preparing greater works, of which our mind has not conceived but of which there has been an earnest within our experience. One of the most fervent expres-sions of such an experience is the ancient song that nevertheless sounds new: "Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines, though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food,.yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation" (Hab 3:17-18). Mary, Mission of Joy What is the Magnificat but the above ancient hymn sung in a new melody? Surprised by joy, Mary celebrates God in her new song for all his works of gladness wrought in her and her society of the lowly, down through the ages. She rejoices in her own deeds of happiness, too, which God inspired her to perform for the benefit of the lowly and indeed of all humankind. She inspires and urges all those interested in similar works to become part of the hopeful, joyful movement to which God gives increasing momentum for his glory and our bliss. Following her Son in all matters of life, she precedes us religious like a wise guide in all matters, even in our evangelical mission. Notes ~ See Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November-December 1998): 605-620. 2 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, I Say unto You, Vol. 2 (Pune, India: Rajneesh Foundation, 1980), p. 172. 3 Rajneesh, I Say unto You, pp. 217-218. 4 Reddy (1895-1958), a convert, renounced his professorship in a Jesuit college in Tamil Nadu and became a pilgrim beggar and vagrant preacher. See J. Cherupallikat, Witness Potential of Evangelical Poverty in India (Immensee, Switzerland: Nouvelle Revue de Science Missionnaire, 1975), pp. 117-121. s See Leonardo Boff, The Lord's Prayer (Indore, India: Satprakashan Sanchar Kendra, no date), p. 88. January-Feblvtary 2000 finding God ROBERT % COSTELLO Discovering God in Gaps Joseph Cardinal Bernardin influenced millions of peo-ple. As I read accounts of his life and watched the tele-vision coverage of his death and funeral, I was intrigued by a paradox. Cardinal Bernardin wrote, shortly before his death in November 1996, that his last years were the best and worst of times. He said he loved being Joseph to his people and seeking to build bridges between diverse church elements. He told of struggling to free himself from a "need" for success, a "need" to avoid criticism; he told of struggling to trust. He said he was whipsawed by groups asking him to carry their diverse banners. Then came the shocking conspiracy to brand him for sexual misconduct. After displaying immense courage amid the harsh publicity, he gained a growing respect and influence during the slow onset of the cancer that brought his death. Joseph Bernardin's influence peaked in his vulner-ability to the plot to defame him, his care for his false accuser. His example suggests a paradoxical experience in leadership, one which raises engaging questions. Are there implications for church leaders in the cardinal's Robert T. Costello SJ, onetime professor of psychology at Rockhurst College and former provincial superior of his order's Missouri province, currently does retreat work at the Guelph Centre of Spirituality; Box 245, Station Main; Guelph, Ontario; N1H 6J9 Canada. Review for Religious behavior? Is there even a hint for a spirituality for others beneath the dramatic circumstances he found himself in? Several experi-ences of mine have suggested an answer. The Southdown Institute is a residential treatment facility for priests and religious and offers monthly workshops for provincials, diocesan chancellors, and council members return-ing for aftercare with former residents. Asked to be a party to those sessions while on staff, I found myself filtering their expe-riences through memories of previous ~:esponsibilities of mine. This led me to sense that Bernardin's curious enhanced power had meaning for other leaders in the church. The leadership participants spoke of their stress at having to make choices about subordinates while pulled between conflicting values and options. They had to decide between what was empathic and tolerant on the one hand and firm and objective on the other. So it seemed to them. I describe this situation as "being in a gap" between an objective managerial function and an empathic pas-toral inclination. It is as though there is no one to turn to when a decision must be made. The cardinal was in a contradictory sit-uation or gap between defending his personal reputation and addressing what he learned were the spiritual needs of his accuser. I believe that this experiential dilemma, this gap, is worth exploring. What is involved in a church leader's experience of the gaps in administration? What Is a Gap? I define the gap as the tension a leader experiences in choos-ing between opposing goods such as compassion and impartial-ity. Should one postpone a difficult decision until there is more information, follow an intuition, or get on with a community's organizational needs? I consulted journals to better understand a paradox I felt was present in gaps. I also shared my quandary with three peo-ple presumably well versed in gap pressures. A general's assis-tant said that the gap issue deals with a leader's spiritual sensitivity to find God in the stressful situations. An assistant to the late Pedro Arrupe likewise suggested that gaps involve the spiritual meaning one disc6vers in the ministry of leadership. The provincial of a large community recalled being pulled by uncertainty and yet needing to act with determination. These January-Februa~7 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps responses added to my interest in the paradox that unintended influence emerges when a leader experiences a "centrifugal" effect from weakness and strength. Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager, a role which is bound to involve the kind of gaps we are discussing. It is different from the role of a business or professional leader (Nygren and Ukeritis, 1993). Empathy is an obvious part of the job description, but so is resolute confrontation. Workshop participants at Southdown spoke of pride in their organization's history, joy in their work, but also pain in conflicted relations with members. They said the stress was to be patient and challenging with fragile personalities while remaining focused on pressing tasks like building commu-nity consensus. One participant recalled that a lawyer's advice about a personnel issue seemed heartless but persuasive. Such circumstances required taking valuable time to address inappro-priate behaviors, being supportive of the person but still pursu-ing larger organizational issues. The research data of Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. (1993) broad-ened my notion of the gaps church leaders encounter. The authors uncovered nearly a dozen pressures which both pull and restrain religious leaders. For example, there is a strain between cultural individualism on one hand and the gospel values calling to relationships on the other. They wrote that leaders should be partners in the process of renewal, not initiators. Leaders also needed to establish mutual relationships. Their research found that generosity in some members was being eclipsed by self-pre-occupation. They noted that fewer religious espoused a prefer-ential option for the poor because of responding to personal calls for self-determination, making assignment difficult. This litera-ture, however, did not address an aspect of the leader's experi-ence I sensed in the life of Cardinal Bernardin and recalled, in a way, from my own years as a provincial. I found myself curious about his power. Eventually I had a clearer sense that there were unique tensions or gaps in the power differentials of leaders and community members. I originally had an unexamined, even patriarchal, conception of power: it produces effects. Thus the religious leader buys or sells property, approves vows. She can influence events in for-eign countries. Power makes things happen for individuals and a community and can be a unilateral influence. I also mistakenly Review for Religious suspected that leadership's authority was in the office or person. I believed that ideally Bernardin's considerable power would leave him unaffected if he exercised it adroitly. In .other words, good leadership could, should, and would produce a win-win result. I recalled, though, having nagging doubts after making some deci-sions. Those are what I was coming to recognize and identify as my gap experiences. A second conception of power grew out of curiosity about how the cardinal remained so influential aJ~er the conspiracy to besmirch his reputation collapsed. There was power and influence in how he allowed himself to be unaf-fected. I could understand people admiring his humility, but the pro-found impact his dying had on people puzzled me because I thought media frenzy would stain his integrity and reputation. I finally saw that there was power in how he allowed himself be affected. Power was being both active and passive, doing and receiving. When a Southdown workshop participant recalled a member's death from AIDS and the scandal which developed, I found his empathic reaction powerful. Gradually I saw that this second conception of power was a pas-sive reality that makes church leadership both personally demand-ing and spiritually challenging because church structure expects spiritual meaning to be acknowledged. Authority, then, seemed somehow to be a mutual influence. As the publicity swirled about him, Bernardin's stature seemed to increase with each gentle assertion, of his innocence and his belief that somehow the truth would appear. He pressed on with his plan to develop greater harmony in the Catholic Church of the United States while continuing to empathize with his accuser. He was in a wrenching gap. After he was exonerated of sexual impropriety, he threw himself into work only to be diagnosed With terminal cancer, but that is another story and a different stressful situation. Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. say that leaders viewed their source of power as residing either in themselves or in others. A leader who assumes personal authority is able to be assertive, while a Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager. January-February 2000 Costello * Discovering God in Gaps leader who considers the source of power to be in others becomes more interdependent or tentative. Note here that these sources of power are not mutually exclusive and inevitably result in the internal struggles (gaps) that are at issue here. For example, a leader who stands on his or her own authority and is objectively assertive in dealing with members may generate resistance and be labeled autocratic. A leader who sees his or her power as derived from others can become paralyzed by members who disagree and resist consensus. A conception of passive power I found most enlightening was that of Bernard Loomer (1976). He described it as relational power. His concept helped me understand the paradox of Cardinal Bernardin: giving and receiving influence. This kind of. power is not an either/or capacity, like deciding to act or not act in a certain way. With Loomer's guidance I will digress on two faces of power: Power results from being influenced and Power preserves rela-tionships. Power as being influenced is not a contradiction. One workshop participant spoke of selling a building that had great symbolic value for her community and openly sharing the pain of it, thus leading the community to "get through it." A second par-ticipant spoke of compassionately confronting the stony silence of a member who violated a fiduciary relationship. Such gap expe-riences are clearly intense--but how are they powerful? The Challenge of Gaps Gaps challenge leaders to expand in "size," that is, to make room in their minds and hearts for opposing realities, such as the limits of human adaptability juxtaposed with situational demands. Gaps stretch leaders, and the power is displayed in the manner in which they embrace what is needed but only possibly achievable. Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncer-tain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Cardinal Bernardin exercised power by being mortified on CNN over the accusation thrown at him of sexual abuse. He gent-ly absorbed the humiliation of being asked on television if he was sexually active. He also showed the size of his heart by refusing to countersue his accuser, while at the same time working (in what must have seemed another world) to build consensus among divergent elements in the church. Size is prodigal power because Review for Religious it demonstrates that stress is absorbed for the uncertain benefit of others. The cardinal's power was shown also by his refusing to unleash a legal assault on the conspirators with his available resources and by his believing that this conspiracy could not crush him. Size deals with the interior authority of the person; I find it godlike. A second face of power is manifest in someone who actively preserves relationships. In Loomer's view here, power is the capacity to sustain the mutuality of giv-ing and receiving. Individuals with per-sonal problems often refuse .such mutuality by erecting rigid boundaries as a way of securing whatever power they have. Bernardin's relational power consisted in the months of effort he spent trying to establish a vulnerable connection with his accuser, not in any brandishing of his status, with its vast legal resources that would only have cre-ated a wider gulf. In the end, both men contributed to and were nourished in the relationship because of thee inequalities of power. This was for me a surprising real-ization: one of the greatest influences anyone can have on another is being influenced by that person. Therein lies the power available in gaps. As I spent time musing about this issue, I came finally to a new understanding of some of my leadership experience. I grasped that my deep pain over the shrinkage of religious life was sad-ness over others' "poor discernment" or "lack of courage": "If only those departing had consulted more astute advisors, they could have fallen out of love and remain and resolve their issues" ¯ . . "If only they had more grit, things could be as they were-- and we have such need of their gifts!" I was helpless in the face of diminishment, but also hopeful there could be unimagined surprises in it. And yet I conceived these gap experiences as noth-ing more than stress due to my personal limitations. Cardinal Bernardin believed that meeting his accuser just might set the man free. He actually went to the man, faced his understandable resentment, brought about reconciliation while pressing on with the archdiocese's business. That demonstrated Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncertain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Jannary-Februa~y 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps his size. The cardinal seemed detached from the scandal, and it appears his anchor was in spiritual meaning he attached to this ordeal. He "knew" the truth would appear, that he was innocent and it was possible somehow to be vindicated. He recalled that Jesus pledged his life in the interest of others in the face of their mis-understandings and abandonment. This was the quintessential experience of absorbing the stress in a gap for the benefit of a dream or a commitment. It was relational power. The paradox I sensed in Cardinal Bernardin's life connected with two other men whose conversions influenced me: C.S. Lewis and Ignatius Loyola. Lewis wrote that as a child he was "stabbed" by intense feelings of joy. He seemed obsessed with recapturing this experience and spent years trying to re-create it by exploring the riches of the arts and nature. He suspected he was trying to cook up emotional thrills. After years of frustration in this quest, he concluded he was seeking the wrong quarry. He had confused the affective experience of joy with its object. The sought-after emo-tion was only a cheap reminder or a footprint of a presence. An extraordinary realization. There was no other answer because all his introspection dissatisfied him until he accepted that the value of joy was in its object, in something else, in a presence--in God. While admitting I am on uncertain ground, for me Ignatian detachment means that in leadership as well as life we must hold ourselves in a kind of balance before all things, insofar as we have a choice. In the present context, whether a gap ended with pos-itive feelings would not be the issue; rather, it would depend on which alternative led the cardinal to greater self-donation and compassion. This detachment, no matter how experienced inter-nally, calls forth a more loving response to life's circumstances, which is a presence even if experienced as stress. In my view, this interpretation describes the experience of gaps religious leaders often have when detachment produces negative feelings which demand that they increase in size. My mistake was to attribute stressful feelings to the "cost" of leadership, nothing more. I had focused on my experience of stress, not its object. I think, as well, that Ignatius considered the actual feeling in spiritual consolation to be unrelated to a venture's success or failure. This was enlightening in the face of how hard it is to associate the stress or occasional bitterness in gaps with anything like God's confirming presence. I had supposed that God is sup-posed to be present in consolation (involving joy), not in uncer- Review for Religious tainty or regret (due to my painful limitations). I recall a con-soling sense of satisfaction after a community meeting that went well--who would not feel deep joy in a win-win situation? But sit-uations of angry conflict that emphasized one's own poverty in coping with it seemed altogether different, as they did for par-ticipants at the Southdown meetings. As I was learning, though, Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. The conflicted stress that people in leadership positions experience seems to be located between what is possible for them and what is unimaginable. Leadership routinely deals with possibil-ities and constraints in people or situa-tions, and so gaps are inescapable. My own experience and comments of others at workshops convince me that Ignatian detachment and consolation give these gaps further meaning: gaps are a time of the Spirit's presence in the stress. Ignatian consolation is an affective experience directed toward God and the world and away from self, an experience that can be stressful--as when one hopes that one's own experience of a difficult interpersonal exchange may just possibly be for the good of the person and the situation. No person in history staked as much as Jesus on the merest possibility that fidelity to his convictions could be redemptive for people, notwithstanding experience to the contrary. The stakes were so high because one side of the gap meant Jesus could be deluded while the other side presented only a flimsy possibility that the kingdom he desired would ever eventuate. The stake seemed to involve the exhilaration of wagering it all, staying in the gap, believing and hoping in the possible. From this perspective, the continuing power of Jesus is the unbounded size he mani-fests because there is room in his heart for all. More humbling than finding oneself in such a gap is a sus-picion that some leaders get about themselves. They wonder whether they seek to walk this way of possibility or rather are sought by God to walk it. In my reflection I admitted, without comprehending why, the possibility of their being sought. And Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. January-February 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps that makes all the difference when they make their stake to walk the way of possibility to the end, because they believe this service will be redemptive., for someone. Just like Christ's stake. References Bernardin, Joseph Cardinal. The Gift of Peace. Chicago: Loyola Press, 1997. Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1956. Loomer, Bernard. "Two Conceptions of Power." Process Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1976). Nygren, David J., CM, and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ. "The Religions Life Futures Project: Executive Summary." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-51. Nygren, David J., CM, Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, et al. "Religious- Leadership Competencies." Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 390-417. Ordinary Time Hoarfrost ages the discarded Christmas trees. Fog mutes the soul, and dampness chills the heart. In ordinary time we wait, like puffed-out birds, upon a frozen limb of time and seek for solace in the hearing of the Word. Ed Block Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Ln some parts of the Catholic world, this article may draw w readers and perhaps outright protest. Among some reli-gious today, "Father" as referring to God might well be under-stood as an ideological catchword linking a speaker or writer, regardless of his or her intentions, with a slew of suspected atti-tudes (clustered around "patriarchy") about which questioning and disapproval would likely arise. Confronting Our Experience In such situations the anger evoked by an uncritical refer-ence to God as Father can be intense and highly vocal. A reaction to such anger could itself be a mirror image of the original--but in the opposite direction. "Every action has an equal and oppo-site reaction," as the saying goes. If care is not taken, this coun-tervailing process of action/reaction can spiral out of control and leave members of the believing community "poles apart." In such instances, division and animosity replace the dialogue and mutual respect that should characterize the believing com-munity. We should be saddened by such results, but not surprised. Human beings are weak and fragile. Even with the best of inten- Dennis J. Billy CSSR delivered this paper (here somewhat revised) in spring 1999 at the Institute of Spirituality of the Angelicmn in Rome. His postal address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Janua~y-Febrt~my 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality tions, they can easily allow rancor and strife to get the upper hand in their lives. The same holds true for the communities people form, even religious ones. As the world gets smaller and smaller, I would not be surprised if the local Christian commu-nity and the local religious community reflect more and more of these complex and highly charged emotional tensions. Such is the nature of a world where technological advances have made mass communication practically instantaneous and where the communication media purvey religious sentiment for a society increasingly definable as a consumer market. Anything goes, if it will sell--better still if it will sell quickly. Package it well enough and you will get a large enough following to support your ideas. Besides, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. Right? If so, then we can call God whatever we please. Why not? I would be astonished if, among the readers of this journal, there is not a wide spectrum of strong emotional responses to my topic. Indeed, some of us may experience the full range of these intense emotional reactions in our own hearts. Some of us may have no problem whatsoever about referring to God as Father. Some of us may feel a certain ambivalence about the term and not quite understand why we feel the way we do. Some of us may feel guilty for feeling that way. Some of us may be confused and uncertain and may wonder h6w a simple phrase like "Our Father" can evoke such strong and conflicting emotional reac-tions. And some of us may be dead set against using such a term, regardless of what we say at Mass and regardless of what Scripture and Tradition, the pope, the magisterium, and even Jesus have to say about it. A reason for the vast array of reactions may be the ambiva-lence (and, in some cases, outright hatred) some people harbor toward their own fathers. Social historians speak of the weak-ened role of fatherhood in Western society due to tremendous upheavals brought about by the Industrial Revolution. As Western society became industrialized during the 19th and 20th centuries, the population gradually shifted from rural, agricultural areas to the cities and their outlying areas. Fathers went off to work in fac-tories, sometimes traveled long distances to get there, and returned home tired and hungry at the end of a long day with little energy for anything else. Over the years.this resulted in a culture with largely absent and disengaged fathers, who spent most of their time away from home and who had little direct Review for Religious contact with the inner workings of family life. Their job was to provide shelter and to put bread and butter on the table. Nothing more; nothing less. The image of the distant and detached father reading his evening paper, smoking his pipe, sipping his evening pint, oblivious to the needs of those around him, especially his children, is deeply embedded in many people's minds. In this century, advances in technology alleviated the situation some-what, but have created new demands on people's time and energy. These same advances, moreover, have brought much of the world under the sway of both the positive and the negative influ-ences of Western culture? If that is not enough, some people had fatherless childhoods because of war and disease. Imagine growing up without a father. People may not show it externally, but some of them have grown up feeling devastated, feel-ing abandoned by their fathers and perhaps even by God. Today households exist where the father or at least a strong fatherly influence simply does not exist. One wonders what calling God "Father" might mean in such a home. Of course, when fathers fail to take their roles seriously, when they neglect their children or abuse them with physical and psychological violence, even sexual misconduct, there is another problem about calling God "Father." Tensions grow and family situations worsen. No wonder that some people find it difficult to address God as their Father. Why should they think God would be anything but detached or remote or even violent toward them? How would you feel if you were in their shoes? Perhaps you already are. This is just a sampling of the wide range of feelings our topic can evoke. If we wish to understand what devotion to God the Father means for religious spirituality today, we need at the out-set to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. If we do not handle these problems regarding human fatherhood, theologians may look into possible new names for God and talk about them engagingly, but the names will very likely fail to make that all- We need to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. January-February 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spiritlutlity important journey from the mind to the heart. Proposed names that seem "theologically accurate" and "politically correct" are not likely ever to fit the mystery which sustains us and the world we live in from one moment to the next. If the words we use for God in prayer are somehow false, then the images they call up and our prayers themselves are likely to go awry. Defining Our Terms What does devotion to the Father mean in religious-life spir-ituality today? We have looked at various tensions to which use of this name for God gives rise in different people. Now we will clarify some of the terms of the discussion. To begin with, I follow Thomas Aquinas's understanding of "devotion" as "a ready willingness to give oneself to the service of God"; it is an act of religion, one of the allied virtues of jus-tice, and manifests itself in people's deep desire to serve God in whatever way asked of them (see ST2a-2ae.82.1 and 2). I use the word Father not in the Roman sense of paterfamilias (that is, "the patriarchal head of a household"), but in the Aramaic sense of "Abba" (that is, "Pap'a") that Jesus used to express the loving, compassionate face of God. This term has deep roots in the Christian psyche and expresses what experts in male spirituality refer to as "the deep masculinity" of God.2 Jesus himself explains this v.ery well in the Gospel of Luke when he says, "Be compas-sionate as your Father is compassionate" (Lk 6:36). By religious I refer to the way of life recognized by the Catholic Church that seeks to follow Christ through life in community and by the pub-lic profession of the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience.3 This way of life has deep roots in Christian history, belongs to the charismatic dimension of the church, and forms an integral part of its life and holiness. By spirituality, in many ways the most elu-sive of the terms I am dealing with, I mean "how individuals or groups understand and carry out the ultimate meaning of their life." It can be discussed on three levels--the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical--and embraces both theoretical and concrete, practical issues.4 To quote a circular letter of Joseph W. Tobin, the Redemptorist superior general, "spirituality is con-nected with basic and often unsettling questions: Who are we? Why are we? How are we to live?''s Having clarified 'my terms, I can now express the question Review for Religious posed by my topic in the following way: What are the practical consequences of lifestyle and identity for those of us in the church who seek to give ourselves in service to God, our merciful and compassionate Father, through life in community and the public profession of the evangelical counsels? This question yields no simple solution. It is very difficult and complex, one that holds no instant solution, but must be pondered and contemplated by each community of religious and by each individual religious over and over and over again. I offer some guidelines to help in this process. Naming the Mystery Before we begin to do that, however, we must note the lim-itations of human language and its inability to exhaust the mys-tery of the divine. Language conceals as much as it reveals, perhaps even more. As Pseudo-Dionysius reminds us in The Divine Names: "God is . . . known in all things and as distinct from all things. He is known through knowledge and through unknowing. Of him there is conception, reason, understanding, touch, perception, opinion, imagination, name, and many other things. On the other hand he cannot be understood, words can-not contain him, and no name can lay hold of him.''6 The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370) affirms this when it reminds us that we are created in God's image and not vice versa: "God is pure spirit in which there is no place for the difference between the sexes. But the respective 'perfections' of man and woman reflect something of the infinite perfection of God: those of a mother and those of a father and husband." In other words, the names we give God express something of who God is, but also fall infinitely short. Kataphatic (or "posi-tive") theology and apophatic (or "negative") theology go hand in hand. God is "Abba, Father," as Jesus teaches us, but also "our loving Mother," as the 14th-century anchoress Julian of Norwich reminds us in her Showings, and "inmost ground," as Meister Eckhart proposes in his German works.7 God can be referred to by these and a host of other religious appellations, some of which we can readily identify with, others not so readily. Perhaps it is only the "coincidence of opposites" which best expresses the mystery of God, who is known in the midst of our unknowing and who cannot be confined by our meager attempts to express the inexpressible. Janua~. -February 2000 Billy ¯ Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Theological language is fundamentally analogical in nature. That is to say, any word we use when speaking about or naming God expresses, at one and the same time, both a proportional likeness and difference. This holds true even for the word which the Word made flesh himself used to address God. Jesus calls God "Abba, Father," not to tie God down, define him, create an image of him in our heads, or (worse yet) exhaust his mystery, but to assure us that compassion and love rather than confusion and chaos lie at the heart of existence. This is precisely what the Spirit tells us when it cries out "Abba, Father" deep within our hearts and intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words (see Rm 8:15-27). Something rings true in our hearts when we call God "Abba, Father." We know that God is very much more than this two-syllable word can convey, but somehow it seems all right. We sense that God hears us, understands us, and assures us that all shall be well. A Revealed Religion Why is this so? We already have a received a glimpse of the reason above when, referring to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370), we noted that we are created in God's image, and not vice versa. Notice the passive voice. We are created. It is not we who do the creating. God is not a function of our language and systems of thought. We do not somehow "create" God by the names we give him or the theologies we concoct to express his divine mystery. If this were true, then theology itself would just be a sophisticated form of anthropomorphizing. In fact, God takes the initiative and reveals to us the nature of the divine. The ini-tiative is not for us to take; we are receivers. God uses human instruments, of course, which themselves are weak and fallible, but he takes the initiative. We must not forget that Christianity is a revealed religion. When it comes to naming God, it recognizes that human reason and human imagination can only go so far. On our own, all we can come up with is the recognition of the weakness of human lan-guage to express the inexpressible and the necessity of using many names so as to

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 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 ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for com~nercial 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. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli